Bob Dylan has been 'offered' a part in Coronation Street, after the musician revealed that he "binge-watches" the iconic ITV soap.
The singer-songwriter recently revealed during an interview with The Wall Street Journal that Coronation Street is one of his favourite programmes to watch.
During a discussion about his TV habits, Bob made the surprising revelation, saying: "I’ve binge watched Coronation Street, Father Brown, and some early Twilight Zones.
"I know they’re old-fashioned shows, but they make me feel at home."
He continued: "I’m not a fan of packaged programs, or news shows, so I don’t watch them."
Speaking to The Daily Telegraph, Iain said: "We would absolutely love the idea of him turning up in the Rovers Return one night. "Maybe we could write in an open mic night and a mysterious singer could roll in out of the Manchester rain and do a turn.
"Both he and Coronation Street established their reputations in the 1960s, both have championed working class voices and causes, both tell stories with a particular sensibility and sense of humour."
Recently Bob Dylan had an exclusive interview with 'The Telegraph': the catchiest tune you’ll ever hear.
In his new book, the Nobel Laureate reveals his love for the 1958 Italian hit Volare – which might be the first ever hallucinogenic song. 
Flying too high can be dangerous, one bad move leads to another, and that move is usually worse than the one before. Committing yourself too early can lead to disaster, but once you go, you go. (Excerpt from Telegraph)
This song is zooming and whizzing and runs the course, it gets up to speed and barges into the sun, ricochets off the stars, smokes pipe dreams and blasts into cloud cuckoo land. It’s a whimsical song and stays aloft.
You get the mental picture, Utopia, and it’s painted blue. Oil paint, cosmetics and greasepaint, frescoes with blue slapped on, and you’re singing like a canary. You’re tickled pink and walking on air, and there’s no end to space. You’re the Bobbsey Twins, two minds thinking as one, and it’s marvellous and awesome. You get high and you’re having a ball, everybody’s getting a charge out of it, come on let’s live a little. It’s just a hop skip and jump to cloud nine.
You’re jetting out and making manoeuvres and winging it like an aviator. Mirrored in your own dreams and experiencing a sense of wonder. Flying up through the veil, light as a feather, lingering awhile on the puffy vapours, far above the maddening crowd, the connoisseurs, the judges and cliques. All the organisations, everything that wants to grab at your feet and bring you down to earth.
Dylan apologized to fans who paid $600 for limited-edition copies of his latest book, only to discover the signatures inscribed on them had been done using an autopen. "I've been made aware that there's some controversy about signatures on some of limited-edition of Philosophy of Modern Song. I've hand-signed each and every art print over the years, and there's never been a problem."
Around the globe you skyrocket, through the labyrinth. No wonder your happy heart sings. Sings the melodies with all the tonality and vibrations of the senses. Ragtime, bebop, operatic and symphonic. The sounds of violins, it’s buzzing in your ears, and it’s all in tune, in tune with your mercurial self. You’re barnstorming through dimensions. You’re on the rim of the universe in the bright lights of the great millennium, nowhere to go but up.
There's a big difference in the type of women you see from the stage when you're with the Stones compared the Grateful Dead. With the Stones it's like being at a porn convention.
You’re fairly certain you have become some kind of biological mutation, you are no longer a mere mortal. You could tear your own body to pieces and throw the bits everywhere. Bending the throttle, climbing high and out of control where everything becomes a nebulous blur, nothing up here but your imagination. You’re fluttering and floating, nothing you can’t discover, even the hidden things, the deeper you go, the more you can grasp. You try to talk to yourself, but after the first few words the conversation is over. You’re blazing like a comet, hightailing it to the stars. Maybe you’re crazy but you’re no imbecile.
This could have been one of the first hallucinogenic songs, predating Jefferson Airplane’s White Rabbit by at least 10 years. A more catchy melody you’ll never hear or experience. Even if you don’t hear it, you hear it. This is a song that just creeps its way into the air. A song that must be played at weddings, bar mitzvahs and maybe funerals.
It’s a perfect example of when you can’t think of any words to go with a melody and you just sing, “Oh, oh, oh, oh.” Supposedly it’s about a man who wants to paint himself blue and then fly away. Volare, it means, “Let’s fly away into the cielo infinito.” Obviously, the endless sky. The entire world can disappear but I’m in my own head.
There is something very freeing about hearing a song sung in a language that you don’t understand. Go and see an opera and the drama leaps off the stage even if you don’t understand a word. Listen to fado music and the sadness drips from it even if you don’t speak a lick of Portuguese. Sometimes you can hear a song so full of emotion that you feel your heart ready to burst and when you ask someone to translate it the lyrics are as mundane as “I cannot find my hat”.
For some reason, certain languages sing better than others. Sure, German is fine for a certain type of beer-fest oompah polka but give me Italian with its chewy caramel vowels and melodious polysyllabic vocabulary.
Originally, Volare was sung by an Italian singer named Domenico Modugno – just the sound of his name creates its own song.
(Read the full article on Telegraph.co.uk)
