by Michael R. Burch

“Write what you know” has always been good advice for poets, and for writers in general. It’s immediately evident when one begins reading The Perfect Voice, an epic poem of around thirteen pages by the talented Irish poet Martin  Mc Carthy, that he knows his subject, Bob Dylan, both intimately and affectionately.

I find the title interesting and a bit ironic because I have been known to confess that I don’t care for Dylan’s singing voice. Amusingly, I believed for decades that “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” was Dylan’s best vocal,  only to belatedly discover that John Cale sang the song for Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid, even though Dylan appeared in the movie. I suspect the producers may have agreed with me, and, who knows, perhaps even Dylan himself?

Then Axl Rose did a dynamite version for Guns N’ Roses and the case, in my opinion, is closed forever. Bob  Dylan will never touch those vocals. Nor will most human beings with merely mortal vocal chords.

But in another sense – the sense of a Poet Laureate for the ages – Bob Dylan does have the perfect voice, or as near-perfect as is humanly possible. I agree with Paul Valery, who said poems are never finished, the poets just eventually give up. The trick, I say, is not to give up too soon.

In his best songs, Bob Dylan persevered long enough to deny any need for improvement.

I vividly remember visiting my uncle’s London apartment as a boy in the 1960s and hearing “Blowin’ in the Wind” playing on an old-timey portable radio positioned between potted plants on a rooftop garden on a rare sunny day. As a future peace activist and eventual author of a peace plan, I was mesmerized. At the risk of sounding corny, I will say the song touched my heart and my soul. And still does.

Other perfect or near-perfect songs by Bob Dylan, in my opinion, include “All Along the Watchtower,” “Tangled Up in Blue,” “Like a Rolling Stone” and “Lay, Lady, Lay.” Your favourites may differ, but the point is that we all have a favourite Bob Dylan song, and probably several, or more.

But I digress. Getting back to Martin Mc Carthy’s poetic tribute to Bob Dylan, I am reminded of a quote by another Irishman, Bono: “Every songwriter after him carries his baggage. This lowly Irish bard would proudly carry his baggage. Any day.”

One gets the feeling that Mc Carthy feels the same way. The poem is short enough and a quick-enough read for me not to want to give too much away in an intro. Let me say instead that Mc Carthy seems to channel Dylan in his tribute, and that you will know Dylan even better for having read it, as I do now.