My Music Journal 2025: June 10, 2025

 

Tuesday, June 10, 2025

Time: 9:32 AM
Song: Nearly Beloved
Artist: The Wallflowers
Mode of Consumption: Researching songs for this week’s Playlist Pandemonium 

Link to Song: https://open.spotify.com/track/2M1DWzeAgME4rzLTSGNkfH?si=8354052539214a84

This week’s theme for Playlist Pandemonium is songs by artists with famous fathers. When the prompt was posted on Monday, we had a quick flurry of song nominations from the offspring of Frank Sinatra, JJ Abrams, Bono, Rob Schneider, Ravi Shankar and more.

I had few ideas come to mind including the Wallflowers, the band of Jakob Dylan – the son of Bob Dylan. We saw the Wallflowers live last year in Little Rock.

There’s always been a clear resemblance between Jakob and his father. His voice at times is similar also. Beyond that, not a lot is the same other than they paint in the landscape of popular American music.

Bob Dylan was a folk hero in the 1960s, but he morphed away from the folk scene. A chameleon, Dylan’s sound evolved over the years, earning him a Pulitzer, Grammys, and pretty much every other accolade a musician and songwriter can be bestowed.

Jakob has predominately stuck to pop rock with a bit of country twang. During the live concert, the encore was almost entirely covers of Tom Petty songs. I realized then that the Wallflowers sound a lot more like Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers than Bob Dylan and The Band.

I am sure it’s complicated for Jakob, wanting to pave his own way, and likely knowing, he’d never fill the shoes of his father. While he doesn’t avoid answering questions about being the son of a famous artist, I’ve never sensed it’s a topic he’s all that enthused to discuss.

I wondered after the show, if after Bob passes away, Jakob will consider recording any of his father’s songs. To my knowledge, he’s never done that.

I remember growing up and feeling like I had a father that was naturally good at anything he tried to do. I always felt awkward and clumsy and too dimwitted to accomplish the simplest tasks. I remember feeling like I was coming up short to my Dad’s legacy.

My dad wasn’t Bob Dylan. He was a farmer who worked a second job at a feed plant. An honorable person and a good father, but I’ve never had people knocking on my door asking about him, much less reporters probably a hundred times a year for the last thirty years.

I imagine that must be tough.