Bob Dylan live in the time of the plague (New England shows revisited) by Harold Lepidus



SCENE: The night after Thanksgiving. A post-apocalyptic vision: It’s a dark, cold, windy evening in the big city, snow flurries on the way. People, bundled up, masked and anonymous, in long lines in front of the Providence Performing Arts Center. An ominous voice warns patrons over the loudspeakers to have their IDs and vaccination cards, or proof of a recent negative Covid test, ready, and to remove their phones from out of their pockets. Across the street, almost an hour before show time, the parking lot is already almost full. An elderly woman is having difficulty with the credit card payment kiosk, while the parking clerk is distracted as he is directing the last few cars into the lot, too busy to help or even notice her. After I was finally able to pay for my parking space, I saw there were two lines to get in, with the wellness check person in the center examining IDs and Covid status. I went for the shorter line on the left. We’re all herded in like cattle. Metal detectors, ticket scanners. I made it to my seat. 


Welcome to the Bob Dylan concert experience 2021, in the era of Covid. 


In some ways, Dylan predicted a world like this almost 60 years ago, or at least sent out a warning. Dying oceans, guns in the hands of young children, ten million tweeters whose spirits were broken. Senators and congressmen blocking the hall. But, hey, at least we’ve got Netflix and Facebook. 


Once inside, things returned to “normal,” except for a few people taking their masks off, or pulling them down under their respective noses. For both shows, I was lucky enough to get seats up front. For Providence, at the beautifully restored PPAC, second row aisle seat on the left, for the Wang Theatre (Boch Center) in Boston, fourth row behind what must have originally been the orchestra pit. While the two shows featured the same set lists, the Boston show was the superior experience, at least to me. 


While my seat at the PPAC was better in some ways, there were some unfortunate and unforeseen disadvantages. One was a set of microphones placed at the lips of the stage, which did not exactly block my directly on-target view of Dylan, but it would have helped if they were moved a few inches to the right. The other problem was a more important one, namely that the sound of Dylan’s voice was somewhat muffled. I thought it may have been a purposeful attempt to recapture the sound of early Elvis' Sun recordings, but apparently this was not the case. Just to emphasize, it was not his singing that was unintelligible, only how his voice came through the PA. An audience recording from that night actually sounded better. (I’ve had the almost exact same seat for Dylan three times in a row at this venue and this was the first time that occurred.)


For the Boston show, my seat was in the center, a bit further back. Not only was the audio preferable, but so were the sight lines. If anyone was seated too close to the stage, I would imagine the ability of actually seeing Dylan most of the night might have been obscured, since he spent most of his time behind the piano. 




TRIVIA: The Wang Theatre (Boch Center) was formerly known as, among other things, the Music Hall, where the Rolling Thunder Revue played almost exactly 46 before. This is where the famous live “Tangled Up in Blue” clip was filmed, November 21, 1975.


Both nights, Dylan and his new band appeared right on time, just around 8 pm. The musicians were bathed in theatrical lighting, the resulting image reminiscent of a Toulouse-Lautrec painting. Dylan, center stage, appeared like an apparition, the mystical prophet from the ancient past, holding court, tickling the ivories on the ol’ 88 like it was a vintage vaudeville show. Most of the music performed was conjured from an era long gone, frozen in time, a mix of Americana swing and deep, dark, dirty blues. The stage was engulfed in a low cloud of mist, adding to the apocalyptic atmosphere of the music, and the times.   


One of the blessings - and curses - of social media these days is the fanatical, instantaneous - and vital - sharing of information as it occurred. On Twitter, the songs performed on the first few nights were posted in real time. On one hand, how exciting it was! Especially when it became apparent that Dylan was singing eight of the ten tracks from his most recent album, Rough and Rowdy Ways, probably the most new songs performed at the start of any of his tours since 1979. On the other hand, surprises would be few. I avoided most of the reviews, and audio recordings, before I was able to witness these shows for myself, although I was not above listening to a few samples here and there.


My interpretation of the two shows I attended was that they felt more like evenings at the theater than a regular ol’ concert performance. I guess one could attribute this to the success of the recent play Girl From the North Country, which was based around Dylan compositions, However, I felt this had already been the case as far back as November, 2014, when I also had the same thought. Dylan concerts always had that effect in some way. The set lists often told some kind of story, some more obvious (or coherent) than others, but, more often than not, would take members of the audience on some kind of historical, emotional, or spiritual journey. For example, I remember a show I attended that had  a “biographical” set list at Boston’s Orpheum Theatre on April 16, 2005. Many of the songs played that night referenced and/or namechecked people - Maggie, Hollis Brown, Lenny Bruce. Hattie Carroll, Charley Patton, Blind Willie McTell,  G-d and Abraham, possibly his son Jakob in “Forever Young,” and so on. It may have just been a playful thought on Dylan’s part to gather all of these people for one night, but it was an inspired offering. The nights before and after at the same venue were radically different. (See below for more on Dylan’s proclivity to include people in his songs.)


The entire setlist on this tour, in some ways, could be interpreted as a comment on the current pandemic. Nothing obvious, but there’s a subtle pastoral feel in some of the songs plucked from the earlier part of his career. People disagreeing (here it's disappearing) everywhere you look, everybody (most likely) going their own way, staying home alone with their loved ones tonight, in a melancholy mood, looking for faith in something, contemplating the world around them, and watching the river flow.  


What follows are some of my observations from both nights. 


As mentioned above, the Boston show was superior in every way. Contrasting it with the Providence show, Dylan was much more engaged and energized. Maybe it was the tryptophan? Generally speaking, Dylan would step up and away from his piano at the beginning of each song from Rough and Rowdy Ways. At the PPAC only, when Dylan did this, his left elbow would be leaning on the top of the piano cabinet, looking like one martini and loosened bowtie away from being Dean Martin, At the Wang Theatre, whenever Dylan stood up, he was one cigar and a thick pair of round spectacles away from looking like George Burns. In fact, while introducing the band each night, Dylan inserted some corny Catskills comedic material referencing whatever town he was playing in that night.     


Bob Dylan introducing his band, the Beacon Theatre, NYC (Audio)


Of course the main focus, and reason to get excited as mentioned above, was that eight of the 17 songs performed each night were from his most recent album, 2020’s Rough and Rowdy Ways, the first time he has made an artistic decision like that since his Gospel music tour of 1979. As expected, the new material really worked well live, and, as usual, it's the ballads that really came to life in a concert setting.


However, Rough and Rowdy Ways was not really Dylan’s most recent major artistic statement. That would be last summer’s streaming-only, conceptual video album, Shadow Kingdom (The Early Years of Bob Dylan,) which featured, to varying degrees, completely new versions of his own compositions with “players” (as they were credited) seen backing him up on screen. Five of the 13 songs from that show were recreated and revisited on this tour, and it’s not until the ninth song of the evening, “Early Roman Kings” from 2012’s Tempest, that we are treated to anything from something other than these two projects. 


Online, Bobcats were understandably praising the shows to the heavens, saying it was the best ever this or that. The enthusiasm was infectious and contagious, a sincere outpouring of love from this 80 year old artist, whom we were worried might never be able to tour again due to the pandemic. Just compare Dylan now in contrast to, say, where Frank Sinatra was at the same age. In fact, when 2001’s “Love and Theft” was about to be released, his record company sent out a notice that not only insisted that this particular album title was always to be expressed inside quotation marks, but that his age - then an "ancient" 60 years old - would not be mentioned, for fear of alienating a possible younger crowd, and that was 20 years ago! Now, his age is presented as a badge of honor, as is his Nobel laureate status.  


However, while I agree the shows were excellent, I tend to view Dylan’s career as a journey, not about what is the best or the rarest or the coolest. Of course, any longtime fan knows that anyone’s thoughts and interpretations of an artist as complex and revolutionary as this one can changeover time. Even his most misunderstood and underappreciated decade, the dreaded 1980s, is being critically upgraded thanks to the most recent Bootleg Series release, Springtime in New York.  His most challenging and bizarre business decisions, like the box office failure Hearts of Fire where he plays a has-been rock star during the nadir of his commercial appeal, are being enthusiastically reevaluated and analyzed by committed fans. If you want to criticize something Dylan has done, you’ll find someone to defend it. He’s got a million friends.


The good news about this tour was that Dylan’s new band has already gelled. Of course, dependable Tony Garnier was there on bass, multi-instrumentalist Donnie Herron was there also, way over on the right. The relatively recent addition, Bob Britt, was still one of the guitarists, and fit in well with newcomer Doug Lancio. During the second half of the PPAC show, though, since he was right in front of me, drummer Charley Drayton continually grabbed my attention. He was subtle yet intricate, always busy doing something, but never fussy or intrusive. If he hadn’t been positioned stage right, I probably wouldn’t have noticed, but once I was tuned into him, he was a constant focus. He even challenged Dylan for my attention, even though Drayton didn’t bring any on himself .


Over the years, Bob Dylan has occasionally name-checked other artists that have either been an influence, or he’s admired in one way or another. From “Song to Woody” on his 1962 debut, to a playful reference to the Byrds’ Roger McGuinn in his 1971 rewrite of “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere,” 1981’s “Lenny Bruce,” Gregory Peck in the mid-1980’s epic, “New Danville Girl”/ “Brownsville Girl,” Alicia Keys in 2006’s  “Thunder on the Mountain,” 2009’s “”I Feel a Change Comin’ On,” mentioning Billy Joe Shaver, and 2012’s “Roll on John,” Dylan’s tribute/eulogy for John Lennon, all immediately come to mind. Then there are more obscure (possible) references, such as Jerry Garcia in “Tryin’ to Get to Heaven,” and George Harrison in “Ain’t Talkin’,” each included on the album Dylan released after these collaborators and friends left their earthly bodies.  


Possibly aware of his own place in history, which was certainly my interpretation of much of Rough and Rowdy Ways, Dylan, as a possible gesture of gratitude, has recently ramped up the quotient, especially on “Murder Most Foul.” What I happened to notice at these shows was a similar, if somewhat obscure, occurrence. These are of course only my interpretations, your mileage may vary. However, as I saw it, he is still doing his Little Richard gospel thing during “Gotta Serve Somebody,” another totally re-re-rewritten version, with Dylan looking, playing, and rocking like his childhood musical hero.


Interestingly, Richard, like Dylan, abandoned all of his popular hits and devoted himself to the Lord, and unlike Dylan, became an ordained minister. Later in life, Mr. Richard Penniman also claimed to be Jewish, with one source claiming Dylan to be an influence in that decision.


Bob Dylan & the Plugz, "Treat Her Right," Letterman Show soundcheck rehearsal 1984.

Dylan also really loved that Little Richard-influenced Roy Head riff in his hit, "Treat Her Right," which appears here during his reimagining of “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight.” I was also pleased to see that Dylan still included “Melancholy Mood” from 2016’s Fallen Angels, in the setlist. Usually artists abandon projects like this once they are finished with it, so it was heartwarming to know Dylan still deemed it worthy to include on this tour. It also can be seen as a possible tribute to the pre-rock era in general, and Frank Sinatra in particular. When shuffling across the stage during that song in Boston, Dylan received some of the biggest applause of the night. 


There’s also a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it reference to Hank Williams in the new version of “To Be Alone With You,” when he sings, “My eyes are still blue,” which is a quote from his song, “Why Don’t You Love Me?” An unexpected reference was Tommy James and the Shondells’ “Crimson and Clover” during “When I Paint My Masterpiece,” a song from around that same era. Speaking of which, it’s interesting that two 50 year old songs, “Masterpiece” and “Watching the River Flow,” non-album tracks included on 1971’s Greatest Hits Vol. 2 (or More Greatest Hits in some territories) both featured the late, great, Leon Russell, who died back in 2016, and was mentioned in “My Own Version of You.” 


It’s also significant, I think, that in concert and in Shadow Kingdom,  Dylan is still singing about his attempt to paint that elusive masterpiece. It’s how he began each of his 1975 Rolling Thunder Revue sets, the same year he released what most people would call a masterpiece (and not his first), Blood on the Tracks. While Dylan presents himself as someone trying to recapture his childhood past in his art (of course you can!) when he’s on stage, it's never his own history. In concert, he is living in the moment. These days, Dylan, like the mad scientist in “My Own Version of You,” is capable of bringing the past back to life - an old tyme musical revue in a theater without having to play his guitar over his head or any other kind of showboating, as he referenced in the penultimate song, “Goodbye Jimmy Reed,” another nod to the past.  


These shows occurred Thanksgiving weekend, the same timeframe as the debut of Peter Jackson’s three part documentary, The Beatles Get Back, which was filmed in January, 1969, the month before Dylan recorded Nashville Skyline. At the time, the Beatles were such prisoners of their own fame that even playing a concert together was no easy task. The Fabs, like Dylan, stopped touring in 1966. The other third of the holy trinity, the Rolling Stones, were also off the road around this time. The Beatles famously gave their last public appearance at the only location they could think of (or arrange), the roof of their own Apple headquarters. The following year, they broke up for good. It took many years and many lawyers for the Beatles to get control of their own legacy. Post 1966 motorcycle accident, Dylan stayed off the road for almost eight years to recuperate, relax, refresh, renew, and rehearse. He was trying to get his life, and his business affairs, in order. While this is an oversimplification, Dylan has been mostly calling the shots ever since. 


The advertisements for the “Rough and Rowdy Ways Tour” promise to continue for at least a couple more years. Of course how this will be accomplished is based on many factors, one of the most important is whether the leaders of each country will heed the call to get people vaccinated and boostered. We need the times to be a-changin’. The idiot wind is still blowin’, and it’s getting dark out there. 


(c) 2021 Harold Lepidus

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