#Bob Dylan & His Band

[thaern]

One of the many reasons to why George is my favourite musician and artist is the fact that even when he was raised in a small town with many closed thoughts he didn't let that or even the fame construct a image of him as utterly masculine and stereotypical, with his friends (different from Paul) for him showing love to everyone being physically close to them or hugging them no matter the gender, was something normal, a simple act of love.

Just like Olivia once said, George had romantic relationships with all of his friends because he was so full of it that it didn't scared him to show it, being making presents or just giving a hug, he did not let the fragile masculinity and conservative speech stop him from being himself.

And that, for a man raised in the late 50s is something to admire

[hide-your-bugs-away]

Had a fun time splurging at The Pokémon Store yesterday... 👀

[planetwaving]

I FUCKING KNEW IT.......

[asurrogateblog]

I think it's really funny that led zeppelin is dean winchester's favorite band because jimmy page was already almost definitely doing black magic in real life so I can't possibly imagine what they would've gotten up to in a universe where demons are actually real

[wildtales1973]

Bob Dylan and Steve Winwood apparently went ghost hunting together in 1966…..

[allyourlife]

the list of bands my dad hates for cryptic and complex reasons is ever-growing and really funny. he's such an interesting person

[concertphotos]

Bob Dylan by David Oppenheimer Via Flickr: Bob Dylan and his band performing at Family Circle Magazine Stadium on Daniel Island near Charleston, South Carolina on May 4, 2013 - © 2025 David Oppenheimer - Performance Impressions Concert Photography Archives - performanceimpressions.com

[the-alan-price-combo]

...Today is my three-year Alan-versary!!!! 🎹✨️🐾 So, I figured I'd redraw some of my favorite Alan expressions from the movie that introduced me to him!

[pxrplepolkadots]

📽

[onemorecupofcoffee]

here ^ right now

[hide-your-bugs-away]

May 6th, 1965 -

Alan Price tells Bob Dylan that he has left The Animals...

and i have never been the same since

[eddiezpaghetti]

So there's this old guy I work with who keeps trying to convert me. And he know I like classic rock, so his main attempt usually revolves around trying to get me to watch some "Jesus Revolution" about Christianity's role in '60s music or whatever.

And tonight, he pulled that shit with me wearing a goddamn Motley Crue shirt right in front of him, like there wasn't a bright red fucking pentagram staring directly into his soul the whole time I was like, "Nope, still haven't watched it, dude. And, unrelated, wouldn't it be weird if 'Mother' by Danzig was one of my favorite songs of all time? That'd be crazy. Anyway, see you around."

[georgeharrisonsmiling]

Why do you think that John seemed so affected by George's new bonds? George never stopped talking good about him anyway. They didn't fight like George and Paul.

First of all, John had many issues, especially abandonment issues. A lot has been talked about John's problems so I want to focus on George for a bit.

We know that George had many obsessions during his lifetime and there are always jokes about his hyper fixations in the fandom, but it is important to notice that George managed to charm every single object of his affections into a lifetime friendship. Some examples are:

He went from wanting to learn sitar to becoming part of Ravi's family.

Bob Dylan wrote with him, became his friend and even accepted to join a band with George.

George liked Monty Python and Eric Idle was there when he passed away.

George liked F1 races, and many pilots ended up becoming very close friends.

How did George manage to create these bonds with people he was so obsessed over? Without context, George sounds like a stalker in most cases (he video taped Dylan constantly, Eric Idle didn't want to talk to him at first, he offered Ravi money for his first sitar lessons, etc...) but people let him in because all agree that George was sweet, genuinely interested and humble about what he liked. His personality and dedication won over many talented people who appreciated his attention, support and love.

For many years, most of that attention was focused on John but I think that John took it for granted until eventually George's love was also directed to too many places for his taste and the book was probably the definitive proof that George didn't love him like he used to. John went from George following around to communicate mainly through occasional postcards. Now, if we add John's abandonment issues and him over sharing with the press, we get that unfortunate playboy interview that ended up being John's final message to George.

It's not like John lost George's admiration or respect, but he wasn't good at reciprocating it and isolated himself. George then went with people who wanted to be with him and didn't chase after John anymore. George could never have guessed the effect that "omitting" John from his book caused.

[rocksolid-writes]

Simon Riley who’s a music buff.

On base, on missions, he acts like he doesn’t know a damn thing about music (partially to add to the mystique of being Ghost). He will sometimes put on a Metallica album to keep the recruits motivated (he swears up and down it’s to scare them into compliance), but other than that he only ever listens to music through his headphones, usually while doing paperwork or on another sleepless night where nothing else can distract him from the hell hiding in his skull.

Off base, however? That man lives and breathes music.

Price helped Ghost leave Simon Riley for dead, sure, but the body still carries the pieces of a man that matter. One of those is Ghost’s scary attunement to rhythm, half from his extensive trauma and half from his listening to drum-heavy tracks and long-winded orchestras for most of his life. He can pick up on the tick of individual footsteps like how he can determine whether a piece is Prokofiev or Satie just from a few seconds listening, has been caught by Price timing his steps to barely-hummed Black Sabbath more times than either of them would admit. He doesn’t do it anymore, more stable in himself and his skill, but it doesn’t stop Price from listening to the entirely of “Paranoid” every time it comes on the radio of his ancient truck.

Years back, during Ghost’s first leave with Gaz—his flat in London was getting the HVAC fixed, and Ghost was the only one who’s leave lined up—David Bowie comes on Gaz’s driving playlist, and the poor lad gets the shock of his life when Ghost begins to hum along to “Life On Mars?”. That whole leave, all eleven days of it, they talk about music, about Bowie and Joplin and Hendrix, comparing tastes and experiences and concerts. Ghost even takes him to an underground venue in Manchester, a classic rock cover show that has them both leaving with sore throats from screaming with the crowd. Gaz doesn’t talk about it around strangers, hell, not even their squad, but he and Ghost both have pictures from that show saved in their Favorites albums. It’s a very small and sacred thing they share, and their friendship flourishes with it.

Johnny is the most surprised by Ghost’s variety of taste when they spend their first leave Together. He has a drawer in his dresser filled with cassettes, some ancient and some not, he has one of those fancy racks for his vinyl collection even though he doesn’t have an actual record player, and there’s always music playing somewhere, somehow. A lot of it is quiet classical, piano pieces and delicate strings, but it’s interspersed by gentle folk tunes and old outlaw country, folks like Willie Nelson and Bob Dylan and some modern bands Johnny’s never even heard of. Simon even sings some of it when they’re dancing barefoot in his too-cold kitchen, his voice a low tenor over Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon” that Johnny wants to hear on repeat for the rest of his life.

When the four of them are together on leave, rare as it may be, Simon’s quiet demeanor dissolves a bit at the wild high of a good guitar solo, turns his crooked snarl of a smile bright with the blaring of brass or his forever dark-anxious overthinking calm and metered with the familiarity of old piano. There’s nothing he won’t listen to; rap, surf rock, EDM, jazz, chorale, all of it is on the table. He doesn’t like some bands, sure, or some songs, but he has yet to write off an entire genre, always finding something somewhere to appreciate.

Johnny asks him why, one night, curled into Simon’s bed in the warm dark, and Ghost hesitates, takes a breath.

“Music wasn’t allowed in the house, with my father around. After he left it was… different.” He shrugs. “Music’s all I have left of them.”

The next time Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” comes on Johnny’s shuffle, he watches Simon smile the one smile he can’t ever right fully, one full of melancholy, and doesn’t ask. He just lets the music play, thinks about the picture he saw once of Beth Riley in her wedding dress with eyes like emeralds and her shoes in the hand not holding her husband’s, and decides there’s no words half as good as a memory like that.

Simon Riley who still sings “The River” on late nights at home because it was the only song Joseph could fall asleep to that wasn’t his mother’s voice, and sometimes he hopes it’ll work on himself.

Simon Riley who’s a music buff because it ties him to who he loves; who hosts a playlist for the 141 that’s so disastrously mismatched in genre and vibe but he doesn’t care, because that’s his family now, and this is their soundtrack preserved together.

Simon Riley who’s a music buff.

[iamactuallythewalrus]

i always find it so funny that post-beatles, george just went, 'you know what?? fuck you all. i'm gonna become best friends with bob dylan and you're all gonna have to watch'

actually, i'm gonna write love songs with him (see: i'd have you anytime). and it'll open my triple album full of diss tracks aimed at the band (see: wah-wah, run of the mill)

i'm gonna cover one of his songs (see: if not for you) because we played it during the new morning jam sessions in 1970 just after the band broke up and it actually meant something:

oh yeah, and i'll write a song for him (see: behind that locked door) begging him to come out of hiding. and the thing is—it'll work

and like sure, maybe george would’ve done anything for bob dylan. maybe he was a little obsessed

but also. also!!

this was absolutely also a massive 'fuck you' to john and paul. and you just know they were both seething (especially john, because i think he really wanted to be friends with bob too)

[karisana]

love in song

a/n: okay.. like i said im a new writer so PLEASE go easy on me cause im really freaking scared to post this 😓 im still trying to get a good idea on how to write their personalities so im sorry if this seems ooc..💔 anyway! this was inspired by camila and billy from djats cause i luv that show 😛

the bell of the door dings as you step into the familiar record store that was right next to your apartment complex. you take in the scent of the same amber and dust smell that always lingered in the store ever since you first came, blinking under the warm lights. as you walk in and do your typical walk around, a song was playing from a band unknown to you, though it sounded quite good. although you look like you're just browsing, you came in with one goal in mind: to get bob dylan's new record, "john wesley harding." 

eventually you decide to make your way to it after picking up another record from one of the few artists you listened to. as you approach the "B" section, you begin to regret your earlier decision of just looking around as you see another man already in front of the section, seemingly ready to pick up from what you can see, the very last one left. you curse yourself mentally before deciding on what to do. since you came here so often, you were in with the workers here, you could always just ask if they had any spare in the back. after a few seconds you start moving to go up to the man. you try to keep to yourself but talking to one person isnt gonna hurt right? 

you linger behind him for a split second before breathing out and calling out to him.

"excuse me?" 

the man turns his head slightly. you instinctively look him up and down. he already had 4 other records in hand. you also take notice that his face is partially hidden behind sunglasses. odd choice, you thought. its quite cloudy out today, then again when is it not in london. even still, you can see his eyebrows are raised slightly.

"are you–?" you begin, gesturing slightly in front of him before he cuts you off.

"yeah, i am. paul mccartney. nice to meet you, love." a charming smile forms on his face as he speaks and he sticks out a hand for you to shake.

you stare for a second, dumbfounded. you realize how rude you must look, just staring. quickly, you take his hand in yours, shaking it lightly. you let his hand go as you speak again to gesture once more to the last bob dylan record in front of the both of you, more clearly than before.

"...i was just gonna ask if you were gonna get that." you say as nicely as you can. you already felt awkward without what just happened.

the man, paul mccartney as you've just learned, is now staring dumbfoundedly at you as you had done with him before, his grin faltering. though he recovers quicker than you did, clearing his throat and looking away for a second before turning back to face you. 

"oh- this? no no, its all yours." he grabs the record for you and holds it out for you to take.

you thank him with a small smile before trying to make your way past him as politely as possible. 

paul has never been in this situation. when he first saw you enter, he just hoped you wouldn't notice who he was or at least have the decency to not start screaming upon encountering him. when you first came up, he was a bit surprised seeing as you'd been there for a few minutes, he figured you would have come up earlier if you were a fan. he told himself he got lucky and you were just one of the calmer, shyer ones. so now, he's rather confused to find that you seemingly don't know who he is. he hesitates for a second before ultimately choosing to call out to you.

you don't make it even three steps past before you hear him again. 

"you don't know who i am?" he asks, but it doesn't sound angry or offended, more intrigued than anything.

you raise a brow before huffing out a laugh, not a mean one though. 

"am i supposed to?" you ask, teasing. he lets out a laugh of his own, a sharp one.

"well it's just- most people usually do, y'know."

"and why's that?" you inquire genuinely, now curious. he brings a hand to rub the back of his neck a bit sheepishly. "well i’m part of a band. the beatles?"

you actually have heard that name. you don't own a tv and you don't keep up with any form of media, finding it to be draining. you don't go out much either and only really listen to the radio, and even then, only a limited amount. you recall hearing a song of theirs about two years ago, girl. you quite liked it, not enough to get into them though. you tell him this, leaving out the last part as to not hurt his feelings. he perks up a bit and you continue.

"i just don't like keeping up with that stuff, it's not really my thing." paul breathes out a laugh, shifting the records in his hands. "i think that's the first time i've had a girl say that to me."

you shrug and respond with the "there's a first time for everything" cliché, not really knowing what else to say. he seems amused enough though. he watches your face with an unreadable expression. he only just met you but he felt as though he could really relax around you, not having to keep up his famous image. he finally grins once more and asks, "what is your thing then?" 

you smile faintly. "dylan, clearly." you quip as you hold out the record in your hand.

he lets out a genuine chuckle at your answer before a calm silence falls upon the two of you. paul can't help but continue to stare, almost studying you. he feels a weird pull towards you.

"what's your name?" he asks a bit abruptly.

you tell him and he repeats it back making a comment under his breath about it being lovely.

another silence falls and you decide that it's time for you to check out and be on your way. once again, you don't make it even just two steps this time before he's quickly asking you yet another question.

"would you like to maybe go out with me? well, just.. talk? there's a café just three stores down, they've got great tea, even better biscuits."

you pause for a second, now looking at him over your shoulder. you find yourself smiling without thinking as you reply with a soft "okay."

you walk out of the store, facing the cloudy weather once again, this time with him beside you.

a/n: AYY we made it 💯 the closing line is so horrible though im sorry i didnt know wtf to put 😭 anyway leave a comment, like, and subscribe if you liked this ❤️

ALSO i am so open to criticism pleaseee let me know what i can fix or get better at cause i actually need to know