I grew up in an household that loved Bob Dylan and Joan Baez (though not equally from parent to parent!), and I think it really only instilled in me a sense of contrariness. The more my dad banged on about how great Dylan and his lyrics were, the more that fell of deaf childish ears. Sitting down now I was worried I'd revert to my self of fifty-odd years ago, but thanks to a pretty convincing effort from Timothée Chalamet I actually found my feet moving - and not towards the door! It doesn't do him any harm that he resembles the man, and he manages to convey something of the spirit of this poe…
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