Video: Bob Dylan’s ‘The Man In Me’ in Super Bowl TurboTax Ad

On Sunday during the Super Bowl this ad ran for TurboTx.

Partway into the ad Bob Dylan’s “The Man In Me” kicks in. The song is off Dylan’s New Morning album and was used in the film, “The Big Lebowski.”

“The Bib Lebowski” version:

[I published True Love Scars in August of 2014.” Rolling Stone has a great review of my book in a recent issue. Read it here. There’s info about True Love Scars here.]

‘True Love Scars’ Makes Four ‘Best-Of 2014’ Lists – ‘a gonzo look back at misspent youth’

I’m thrilled that my novel, “True Love Scars,” made four best-of lists for 2014.

Perfect Sound Forever publisher Jason Gross included “True Love Scars” in his best books of 2014 list. (His list of best books is down past the music lists.)

Triple R Radio host/ Addicted To Noise Australia publisher Brian Wise included True Love Scars in his ten best books of 2014 list. (Brian’s list is down the page a bit.)

Former Billboard magazine columnist/ current “Trakin Care Of Business” columnist Roy Trakin included “True Love Scars” in his best books of 2014 list.

StompBeast blogger Matthew Duersten included “True Love Scars” in his “notable books” of 2014 list.

And while I’m at it, there’s a cool review of “True Love Scars” in the latest issue of Ragazine. Writer M. Sedlof manages to both write about my novel (he digs it) and provide some insight into my subtle approach to marketing “True Love Scars.” You can read his review here.

Here’s an excerpt:

“Goldberg’s virginal sex scenes unwind at the same racing-heart-awkward-self-conscious-anxious pace one can almost remember from those good old, bad old days when the forbidden fruit was all one ever wanted then-and-forever-after, only how to get it without letting it slip through your hands like sand, when all you ever did was what it took to make like you cared, when all you knew about caring was what you heard at home, an attitude you didn’t know you didn’t have that may have cost you big time. …

“This was life in California during the denoument days-months-years of Summer of Love, Altamont, the winding up-down of Vietnam, of Roman Polanski and Charlie Manson, Sharon Tate … of Haight and Half Moon Bay, of kids who didn’t surf, who confused and burned-out ended up discovering what the core of life is really like, deep inside, where if you’re lucky enough to find yourself before you die you might even claw your way out. It’s one kid’s story, and then some.”

Finally, the excellent blog, Doom And Gloom From The Tomb, just reviewed “True Love Scars”:

An excerpt:

“… a gonzo look back at misspent youth in the 1960s called True Love Scars — the first in a projected Days of Crazy Wild trilogy. It’s a crackling good read, fillled with humor, pathos, drug use and Dylan references (seriously, I think there’s one on every page). Some of the book is quite harrowing — The Wonder Years, this ain’t. But Goldberg’s freewheelin’ style captures a certain late 60s/early 70s vibe (think the autobiographical writings of Lester Bangs) that makes True Love Scars a pleasure through and through. Check it out.

Jason Gross’s blog:

[I published True Love Scars in August of 2014.” Rolling Stone has a great review of my book in a recent issue. Read it here. There’s info about True Love Scars here.]

Bob Dylan Reinvents Himself – One More Time

Improbable as it might seem at first, Dylan has recorded Shadows In The Night, an album of songs associated with Frank Sinatra – and it’s damn good.

By Michael Goldberg.

I hated Frank Sinatra. As a teenager, Sinatra, who was my mother’s favorite singer, represented my parents’ middle class world, a world I was desperate to escape. I wrote Sinatra off as one of those puppets, a Hollywood-invented pop star who sang Tin Pan Alley love songs, the kind that rhymed moon and June.

Silly love songs. That was what Frank Sinatra was all about. Trivial.

And worse still, I read that he hated rock ‘n’ roll.

In 1957, in the Paris magazine Western World, Sinatra called rock ‘n’ roll “the most brutal, ugly, degenerate, vicious form of expression it has been my displeasure to hear … It fosters almost totally negative and destructive reactions in young people. It smells phony and false. It is sung, played and written for the most part by cretinous goons and by means of its almost imbecilic reiterations and sly, lewd—in plain fact dirty—lyrics, and as I said before, it manages to be the martial music of every sideburned delinquent on the face of the earth. This rancid smelling aphrodisiac I deplore.”

So yeah, for me Sinatra was Public Enemy #1.

Sinatra was, in my opinion, the polar opposite of my idol, Bob Dylan, the brainy rock ‘n’ roll star who had in rapid succession released three of the greatest albums ever: Bringing It All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisited and Blonde On Blonde.

Dylan wrote his own songs, sang with a voice like no other, was a poet, brought the art of songwriting to a level it had never previously reached and was the hippest of the hip.

In 1965, while Sinatra was singing retro pop like “The September Of My Years” and “Last Night When We Were Young,” Dylan was spitting out such modern cubist masterpieces as “Ballad Of A Thin Man,” “Subterranean Homesick Blues” and “Like A Rolling Stone.”

Sinatra was ancient history, the pop singer my mother’s heart beat fast for during her teenage years as a bobby soxer.

I had no interest and no time for Frank Sinatra.

But 23 years later, in 1988, thanks to Beach Boy Brian Wilson, my attitude towards Sinatra changed. I was on assignment for Rolling Stone, writing a feature story about Wilson, who had a debut solo album about to be released. I was hanging out with Wilson at his townhouse in Malibu, and I was checking out some of his favorite CDs, which included recordings by Randy Newman and Phil Spector. There was one by Frank Sinatra, possibly In the Wee Hours or it might have been September Of My Years. Whichever it was, I listened to it there at Wilson’s place, and I opened up to Sinatra. I heard him for the first time.

I came to appreciate Sinatra, and the songs he sang, and I came to dig the often sentimental arrangements provided by Nelson Riddle and others.

Still, when I learned that Bob Dylan, BOB DYLAN, had recorded Shadows In The Night, a full album of songs previously recorded by Sinatra, my initial reaction was that of my 15-year-old self: horror.

Dylan singing those songs? Those corny Tin Pan Alley songs? How could he?

Read the rest of this column at Addicted To Noise.

[Last August I published my rock ‘n’ roll novel, True Love Scars.” Rolling Stone has a great review of the book. Read it here. There’s info about True Love Scars here.]

Greil Marcus on Bob Dylan: ‘The killer was “Long and Wasted Years.” ‘

Rhiannon Giddens

As I posted some months back, Noted Bob Dylan expert Greil Marcus is now writing his monthly column, Real Life Rock Top 10 for the Barnes & Noble Review.

In his December column he reviewed one of Dylan’s concerts at the Beacon Theater.

His review begins:

There were many centers of gravity, where songs took on a new depth, where you could hear them as unfinished stories — of a piece with what Dylan did on November 23, when, before a show in Philadelphia he played a four-song set for a single audience member (Swedish TV stunt, don’t ask), and the highlight was a slow, ruminative version of Fats Domino’s “Blueberry Hill” so full of death it would have sounded just right on Time Out of Mind. …

Read the rest here.

His latest column review the new Rhiannon Giddens’ solo album.

It begins like this:

In the Carolina Chocolate Drops, Giddens’s voice is the one you wait for, and when you watch Giddens as part of the so-called New Basement Tapes band in Sam Jones’s documentary Lost Songs — with Marcus Mumford, Elvis Costello, Jim James, and Taylor Goldsmith, she’s searching for music to give a cache of recently discovered 1967 Bob Dylan lyrics — you realize her talent is bottomless.

Read the rest here.

[Last August I published my rock ‘n’ roll novel, True Love Scars.” Rolling Stone has a great review of the book. Read it here. There’s info about True Love Scars here.]

Video: Jack White, Loretta Lynn Perform ‘Portland, Oregan’ & ‘Whispering Sea’ Live

Last night Jack White did an all-star show at the Bridgestone Arena in Nashville, where he now lives.

For the occasion he was joined by Loretta Lynn, White and Lynn duetted on two songs, “Portland, Oregan” and a Lynn b-side from 1955, “Whispering Sea.”

Check it out:

— A Days Of The Crazy-Wild blog post –

Video: Bob Dylan At Beacon Theater, 1990 – ‘Willin’,’ ‘Man In The Long Black Coat’ & More

Bob Dylan at the Beacon Theater, New York, October 17, 1990.

The concert begins 30 seconds into the video clip.

Set list

Absolutely Sweet Marie
Man In The Long Black Coat
Willin’
T.V. Talkin’ Song
Simple Twist Of Fate
Wiggle Wiggle
Man Of Constant Sorrow
It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue
A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall
The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll
Tangled Up In Blue
Joey
What Good Am I?
It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry
In The Garden
Like A Rolling Stone
The Times They Are A-Changin’
Highway 61 Revisited

[Last August I published my rock ‘n’ roll novel, True Love Scars.” Rolling Stone has a great review of the book. Read it here. There’s info about True Love Scars here.]

Audio: Bob Dylan 50th Anniversary Collection 1964 – 9 Alternative Takes/Outtakes

Earlier this year Columbia Records released a limited edition nine LP set in Europe, 50th Anniversary Collection 1964.

The set, which I’ve heard, has some amazing recordings on it including jams Dylan did with Eric von Schmidt and a full concert recorded at the Royal Festival Hall in London on May 17, 1964. Those have not surfaced at YouTube yet.

However, some of the set recently showed up at YouTube.

Below are alternate takes and outtakes from Dylan’s Another Side Of Bob Dylan sessions which took place on June 9, 1964 at Columbia Studio A in New York.

“Denise,” (Another Side of Bob Dylan Outtake Take 1964)

“It Ain’t Me, Babe,” (Another Side of Bob Dylan Alternate Take 1964 – Take 1)

“Spanish Harlem Incident,” (Another Side of Bob Dylan Alternate Take 1964 – Take 3)

“Ballad In Plain D,” (Another Side of Bob Dylan Alternate Take 1964 – Take 2)

“I Don’t Believe You,” (Another Side of Bob Dylan Alternate Take 1964 – Take 1)

“I Don’t Believe You,” (Another Side of Bob Dylan Alternate Take 1964 – Take 3)

“Black Crow Blues,” (Another Side of Bob Dylan Alternate Take 1964 – Take 2)

“Chimes Of Freedom,” (Another Side of Bob Dylan Alternate Take 1964 – Take 1)

“Chimes Of Freedom,” (Another Side of Bob Dylan Alternate Take 1964 – Take 3)

[Last August I published my rock ‘n’ roll novel, True Love Scars.” Rolling Stone has a great review of the book. Read it here. There’s info about True Love Scars here.]

Audio: Bob Dylan At The Gaslight, Sept. 1961 – Full Set – ‘Song To Woody,’ ‘Pretty Polly’ & More

This weekend I’ve been celebrating the 54th anniversary of Bob Dylan’s arrival in New York on January 24, 1961.

Toward the end of that year, after he’d been gigging around, after he’d met John Hammond and been signed to Columbia Records, but prior to recording his first album, on September 6, 1961, Bob Dylan performed at the Gaslight in New York.

His set, which included an appearance by Dave Van Ronk playing guitar and singing harmony vocals on “Car, Car,” was recorded on a reel-to-reel and you can hear it right now.

Some of these songs appeared on the first official Bootleg series set. Others have yet to be officially released.

The order of the songs has apparently been rearranged by whoever put up this YouTube clip.

Set List (apparently the songs have been ordered differently than when they were performed).

He Was A Friend Of Mine
Car, Car
Man On The Street
Song To Woody
Talkin’ Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues
Pretty Polly

This is the correct order of the set according to www.BobDylan.com:

Man On The Street
He Was A Friend Of Mine
Talkin’ Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues
Song To Woody
Pretty Polly
Car, Car

[Last August I published my rock ‘n’ roll novel, True Love Scars.” Rolling Stone has a great review of the book. Read it here. There’s info about True Love Scars here.]

Audio: 54 Years Ago Bob Dylan Arrives In New York – ‘Talkin’ New York,’ ‘Spanish Harlem Incident’ & More

1961

Fifty-four years ago, on January 24, 1961, Bob Dylan arrived in New York, where within a few months he would not only get a rave review in the New York Times and meet the legendary record man and producer, John Hammond, but would be signed by Hammond to Columbia Records and by the end of the year he’d record his first album, Bob Dylan.

Dylan recorded his first six albums in New York, and the city was his base of operations from ’61 into ’66.

I thought I’d pull together some of Bob’s recordings that are either about or take place in New York in some way, or were recorded in New York.

“Talkin New York” live at Town Hall, April 12, 1963:

“Song To Woody”:

“Hard Times In New York” recorded by Cynthia Gooding, March 11, 1962:

“Spanish Harlem Incident,” alternate take:

“Ballad In Plain D,” alternate take 2 (partial):

“She Belongs To Me,” Free Trade Hall, Manchester, May 7, 1965:

“It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue,” Free Trade Hall, Manchester, May 7, 1965:

“Freeze Out 1,” (“Visions Of Johanna” outtake):

ttp://youtu.be/WYifDaD96rM

“Love Minus Zero/ No Limit” and “Can You Please Crawl Out Your Window” and “From A Buick 6” (alternate takes):

–A Days Of The Crazy-Wild blog post —

Photo Of Bob Dylan On Cover Of AARP

Dylan on cover of February 2015 ARRP.

When Bob Dylan does an interview it makes waves.

Quotes from Dylan’s latest meeting with the press — a conversation with AARP editor Bob Love, have appeared everywhere from the Brooklym Vegan blog to the L.A. Times.

If you haven’t checked out the interview yet, here’s how it begins, including some great thoughts about music and rock ‘n’ roll in the final graph. Note that a longer version of the interview will appear in the February issue of ARRP magazine.

Q: Why did you make this record now?

A: Now is the right time. I’ve been thinking about it ever since I heard Willie [Nelson]’s Stardust record in the late 1970s. All through the years, I’ve heard these songs being recorded by other people and I’ve always wanted to do that. And I wondered if anybody else saw it the way I did.

Q: It’s going to be some-thing of a surprise to your traditional fans, don’t you think?

A: Well, they shouldn’t be surprised. There’s a lot of types of songs I’ve sung over the years, and they definitely have heard me sing standards before.

Q: You are very respectful of these melodies — more than you are of your own songs when you perform.

A: I love these songs, and I’m not going to bring any disrespect to them. To trash those songs would be sacrilegious. And we’ve all heard those songs being trashed, and we’re used to it. In some kind of ways you want to right the wrong.

Q: I noticed that Frank Sinatra recorded every one of these songs. Was he on your mind?

A: When you start doing these songs, Frank’s got to be on your mind. Because he is the mountain. That’s the mountain you have to climb, even if you only get part of the way there. And it’s hard to find a song he did not do. He’d be the guy you got to check with. People talk about Frank all the time. He had this ability to get inside of the song in a sort of a conversational way. Frank sang to you — not at you. I never wanted to be a singer that sings at somebody. I’ve always wanted to sing to somebody. I myself never bought any Frank Sinatra records back then. But you’d hear him anyway — in a car or a jukebox. Certainly nobody worshipped Sinatra in the ’60s like they did in the ’40s. But he never went away — all those other things that we thought were here to stay, they did go away. But he never did.

Q: Do you think of this album as risky? These songs have fans who will say you can’t touch Frank’s version.

A: Risky? Like walking across a field laced with land mines? Or working in a poison gas factory? There’s nothing risky about making records. Comparing me with Frank Sinatra? You must be joking. To be mentioned in the same breath as him must be some sort of high compliment. As far as touching him goes, nobody touches him. Not me or anyone else.

Q: So what do you think Frank would make of this album?

A: I think first of all he’d be amazed I did these songs with a five-piece band. I think he’d be proud in a certain way.

Q: What other kinds of music did you listen to growing up?

A: Early on, before rock ’n’ roll, I listened to big band music: Harry James, Russ Columbo, Glenn Miller. But up north, at night, you could find these radio stations that played pre-rock ’n’ roll things — country blues. You could hear Jimmy Reed. Then there was a station out of Chicago, played all hillbilly stuff. We also heard the Grand Ole Opry. I heard Hank Williams way early, when he was still alive. One night, I remember listening to the Staple Singers, “Uncloudy Day.” And it was the most mysterious thing I’d ever heard. It was like the fog rolling in. What was that? How do you make that? It just went through me. I managed to get an LP, and I’m like, “Man!” I looked at the cover, and I knew who Mavis was without having to be told. She looked to be about the same age as me. Her singing just knocked me out. This was before folk music had ever entered my life. I was still an aspiring rock ’n’ roller. The descendant, if you will, of the first generation of guys who played rock ’n’ roll — who were thrown down. Buddy Holly, Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Carl Perkins, Gene Vincent, Jerry Lee Lewis. They played this type of music that was black and white. Extremely incendiary. Your clothes could catch fire. When I first heard Chuck Berry, I didn’t consider that he was black. I thought he was a white hillbilly. Little did I know, he was a great poet, too. And there must have been some elitist power that had to get rid of all these guys, to strike down rock ’n’ roll for what it was and what it represented — not least of all it being a black-and-white thing.

Read the rest here.

– A Days of The Crazy-Wild blog post –