Today, of all days, the poet who sometimes goes by the name of “Dale Williams Barrigar” does something that is very much against his own better judgment in every single way he can possibly imagine as he presents a brief documentary film by someone else, a practice that is and will continue to be exceedingly rare in his case, which goes to show that when it gets done it is of the utmost importance.

But just remember that Oscar Wilde said truly great writing is never “important.”

HOW this short film of fourteen minutes is made is not what is at stake, although it is made well enough in a functional way.

The CONTENT, or WHAT IT IS ABOUT, is what matters here.

And it doesn’t matter whether one agrees, or does not agree, with Dylan’s specific choices for six of the worst bands of all time in the modern era.

What matters is WHY HE DID AND DOES NOT LIKE THESE BANDS, and what this critical/intellectual judgment says about Art in general (not just these particular bands. Anyone who only focuses on these bands and whether Dylan is right or wrong about these bands is missing the point in a limiting way).

Dylan is not just a songwriter, singer, musician, band leader and music producer. He is also the greatest living MUSIC CRITIC and one of the greatest living music historians alive now or ever alive.

His paintings are okay, his movies are so-so (or bad), most (not all) of his prose and prose-poetry probably falls into the category Harold Bloom roundly dubbed “period pieces.”

But as a songwriter, singer, etc., Dylan is in a very rare category where only the greatest of great names can be mentioned alongside his without their paling in comparison, drastically. I will limit myself to three.

Muddy Waters. Hank Williams. Willie Nelson.

None of these four can sing well in a traditional way; and yet they are and remain four of the greatest singers (not just songwriters) in American music; because of their range and intensity, for starters. (People also thought all Van Gogh’s paintings were incoherent messes by a possible madman and then just a madman, including The Sun Flowers, Starry Night, the Self Portraits, and all of them.)

Just because everyone cannot be on Mount Rushmore does not mean we should all stand there angrily at the base of the mountain attempting to hurl rotten eggs at the faces of the four great Presidents. (There should ONLY ever be monuments to people like Presidents long after they are dead so time has had its chance to tell.) We cannot all be the greatest of the great but we can all learn from (aspects of) the greatest of the great, whether it be Presidents or Artists. And extended contact with prior greatness (and then full digestion of same) is the absolute only way to become great in any of the human arts, from politics to poetry (or even war). The Arts are not for the faint of heart and they are not a sandbox hobby. The decorative and the sentimental “arts” are never Artistic even if they are fun (the decorative and the sentimental are casual and Art is serious, especially comic art). William Faulkner said every great artist is HURT into greatness (in a million different ways, not only in one way. THERE IS NO ONE WAY OR ONE REASON FOR ANYTHING, EVER). There is humor and affirmation involved, but in the beginning (and the end) the Arts are all about pain.

One of those pains is having to live in a world thronging with horrible music. (It has never been like this before and not even close.)

END NOTE: When this short film talks about the Grateful Dead it neglects to mention that Dylan also credited Garcia with saving his life (literally), a fascinating tale unto its own right.

Dale Barrigar Williams (Images by Dale Barrigar Williams)