If you are someone who doesn't give a rat's ass about Bob Dylan go ahead and
delete this. If, on the other hand, you happen to have a few--or a lot--of
the old man's recordings in your collection, check it out. I went to see Bob
last night in Birmingham, and though I was expectant, I have to admit I was
very skeptical. I mean, I first became a fan of the guy about twelve years
ago, but this is my first time seeing him in person. With the stories I'd
heard and the TV appearances I'd seen, I wasn't exactly filled with
confidence on coughing up my dough, you know. But his last few records have
been understated gems and recent reports have all been positive, so I
figured, what the hell.
Well, after last night I am converted anew. His voice was in fine form, but
it wasn't just about hitting notes, bub--but, I gotta say, he did do that.
No, it was about phrasing and how a real performer can remake the familiar.
It was during "The Times They Are A-Changin," in fact, when I realized that
he was making absolutely fresh what I had thought I never wanted to hear
again. How many times had I heard that song on the radio and turned the
channel in familiar boredom?? Well, he did it and did it wonderfully. And
"It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" was the same. Man!! He would turn corners
around words that I didn't know were there and sneak up on me, turning old
chestnuts, including his Jimmie Rodgers cover, into something . . .
relevant.
And that was what impressed me about the old guy. He was relevant again, and
I found that to be mesmerizing. Bob Dylan could coast on the ducats of
nostalgia--Lord knows he has been accused of that by some folks--but here he
was with a stand-up bass player, mandolin/pedal steel player, and a great
country picker ripping into "Honky Tonk Blues." This is Hank Williams
country, by the way, but last night Bob made that brilliant song his very
own. There he was on-stage, smiling, knowing that we were helplessly in his
spell, and we--and him, I'd like to think--loved every goddamed second of
it. And when he did "Not Fade Away," he was not only paying homage to Buddy,
of course--and the increasingly irrelevant Stones--but it was the
Garcia/Dead arrangement, so all of us, not just the numerous hippies in the
crowd, were spinning in circles. And then he was gone, leaving me, and us,
wanting more.
"Not fade away." A brilliant choice to end the show with. It was as though
he was letting all of us know that not even death is gonna kick his ass.
He's going to make damn well sure he sticks around for awhile, and we just
better get used to it. But, folks, he isn't. He will fade away. Last year's
death scare seems to have lit a fire under his ass, and guess what? We get
to benefit. But Bob ain't getting any younger. And, given the guy's
eccentric career, there is no telling when he may become filled with rock
'n' roll ennui and start mailin 'em in again. So, for those of you who count
yourselves among his fans, do yourselves a favor. Go see him. He is truly at
the top of his game and who knows how long it will last. Last night was one
of the most impressive nights of music I've ever experienced (Setzer was a
ball, I should add), and I wanted it to keep on going. But, it won't.
Someday there won't be anymore Bob shows, just like there ain't anymore
Monroe shows and Townes' shows. Don't miss him.
Lance . . .
