Bob Dylan is 70 years old today. That’s quite impressive for a man who has sounded, and looked 70 years old since 1962. Really. He owns a voice that sounds older than coal. He’ll be having his little birthday party today, with his little party hat on and cake shaped like a racing car, surrounded by whooping chums while he sits glumly in the middle of it all.
We wouldn’t want him to enjoy himself too much now, would we?
Of course, Grumpy Bob is just one of the many characters he’s made for himself over the years. He’s been Electric Bob, Folkie Bob, Born Again Christian Bob, Gypsy Bob and, unbelievably, for a brief moment, Rapper Bob. So who is he these days?
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Nile Rodgers and his Chic Organization are godlike geniuses. No question about it. Chic were the smartest and coolest disco outfit who ever lived, creating some sophisticated dance floor monsters that are still light years ahead of the game.
Rodgers wasn’t keen to just sit back and turn out dance tracks though. He had an eye on the wider angle of rock and pop. He, along with his musical brother, Bernie Edwards, produced some dazzling records for other artists including Diana Ross and Sister Sledge.
And it doesn’t bring us any pleasure at all to share the news that Rodgers has been diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer, which of course, he’s tackling with all the class you’d expect of one of the world’s finest and nicest (Nile writes about it here, on his blog).
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So, The Pope has come to Britain to wave at people and talk in Latin, despite the fact no-one speaks Latin anymore. He’s very holy isn’t he? He’s also not very popular with the chattering classes who all like to moan and snipe about the Catholic church’s history of child rape and their unwillingness to help out with the whole HIV thing.
Of course, not one of these people are prepared to do anything about it or we would’ve seen them outside various Catholic churches for years, breaking windows and shouting insults at the clergy inside. Isn’t that right, whingers?
However, that won’t stop us taking cheap shots at ol’ Popey. No chance. We’re so pathetically weak that we’re going to call him a kiddie-fid because we want to be liked… liked by monsters like you. And so, we’ve got a bunch of songs which we’re dedicated to Pope Benedict XVI. Read More >>>
It’s hard to feel sorry for rock stars. They are, after all, rock stars, which usually means they get a paid a lot of money to be pretentious, go out with supermodels and trash hotel rooms.
Or something like that. Very rock and roll.
So when we hear they have somehow come up a cropper, it’s hard to stifle a chuckle. None more so than when they are onstage performing their ‘art’.
And if it’s an injury they inflicted on themselves doing something stupid, then, well, that’s just perfect. Not that we enjoy laughing at the misfortunes of people who are more successful than us.
Actually, that’s a lie – we dedicated an entire website to doing that.
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