1 Chronicles: Volume One

You say: “For its meandering, poetic, sometimes hazy-with-the-truth version of his initiation into the NY folk scene and beyond.” Everlearningdad, via Twitter

Who knew that Part 1 of the three-part memoir deal he signed would be so remarkable? Dylan could have made it all up, shown nothing of himself – this was 2004, a year before Scorsese’s revelatory No Direction Home doc. Instead, it’s plain-spoken, thoughtful, self-analytical, cranky, enthusiastic and unputdownable. Starting and ending in New York, 1961 – Dylan's description of his training ground is almost mythically noir – there’s flashbacks to his Midwest childhood and, in the middle, individual chapters on New Morning and Oh Mercy. Things we might consider milestones – going electric at Newport – are ignored in favour of seeing the club where Bill Haley first played or enthusing about characters like producer Bob Johnston and wrestler Gorgeous George. It’s a portrait of the artist as a young sponge, taking it all in – the Gaslight poker games, the girls, book collections of the bohemians he dossed with – and absolutely fascinating.