In which I bite the bullet (and recommend Jakob Dylan)
But first, I whine a bit about the Jakob juggernaut of years ago:
“Because of a former roommate, I shut the door on Jakob Dylan. While my roommate played Dylan’s hit, “One Headlight” repeatedly, I escaped to my bedroom where I could listen to something else. She sang random bars from his songs all day. She shattered the few quiet moments in the apartment to blather on about Dylan’s “cuteness.”
When she wasn’t doing any of that, she was comparing him favorably with Bob Dylan, saying that his father couldn’t sing or write a single good song —not a one.”