Bootleg Country: Paul Simon - 02/14/87

When I was an early teen, say 14, I got a little compact stereo for Christmas. It has a radio, tape deck, and a record player. I was very interested in this little device as my parents' record player had died many years before.

My mother, ever the child of the sixties, had an astounding record collection of great early rock and roll (I am sad to say it has since been lost in a flood). The Beatles, Dylan, the Rolling Stones, Sonny and Cher, the Rascals, Beach Boys, Loving’ Spoonful, you name it — if it was a hit in the 1960s, she probably had it on vinyl.

This was also the point in my life when I began to take music seriously. Certainly I had enjoyed music prior to this. I used to tape Casey Casem’s Weekly Top 40 show as well as the local stations' nightly top 10 requests. But I would often record over those tapes with whatever songs were new and popular. Music was something fluffy and fun, like candy that was to be enjoyed and discarded afterwards.

Now with all of this great music at my fingertips, I began to really understand the depth and reach of what music could be. For the first time, I began to really digest the poetry of Dylan, the guttural sex of the Stones, and the sheer brilliance of The Beatles. This was more than just throw away pop music, it was important.

I spent many hours sitting inside my room, lying flat on my back in my bed, devouring this new music. Most of these songs I had heard previously. Mother listened to Oldies radio and so much of what I was now listening to wasn’t new at all. I had heard all of Bob Dylan’s greatest hits separately many times over the years. Yet, as odd as it may sound, I had never put together that they were all his.

Article Author: Mat Brewster

Mat Brewster is a periodic ex-pat wondering if he'll ever find a home. You can find him musing on pop culture, and obsessing over concert bootlegs at The Midnight Cafe.

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