Jonathan Freedland’s deeply evocative piece about ageing rock stars and their faithful fans struck a chord with me (From Springsteen to McCartney, ageing rockers are teaching us about something bigger than music, 7 July).
I first saw Bob Dylan in 1966 in Glasgow on my 19th birthday. I last saw him in 2017 in Cardiff, a few days before I reached 70. I’m pretty sure that, on each occasion, the audience was largely of a similar age to me.
Dylan ended his Cardiff show with an unaccompanied version of Not Dark Yet, his contemplation on inevitable decline and mortality. Much of the audience was in tears, and I swear I wasn’t alone in murmuring “may you stay forever young” as he left the stage.
Mike Pender
Cardiff
Wouldn’t it be imaginatively fantastic if these older musicians were now composing fresh and life-inspired songs for, specifically, the oldest members of the population? The accepted exile of elderly people from the cultural mainstream is perhaps the most disgraceful aspect of our self-esteeming age. New pop for all, and not just singalongs in retirement homes on Wednesday afternoons.
Dr Ian Flintoff
Oxford
Jonathan Freedland’s article reminded me of the time when a friend and I were listening to the latest single by the Rolling Stones, Not Fade Away, and his father came into the room. In a most withering tone, he said: “Digby, I thought that you would have grown out of this sort of music by now.” We were 15 years old.
Keith Redway
Hemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire
Neil Young’s Harvest Moon exquisitely captures one aspect of what Jonathan Freedland describes. Young went further in an interview, with an aphorism that, incidentally, emphasises a piece of poetic nominative determinism: “You don’t have to be young, to be young.”
Dave Hunter
Bristol