I saw Bob Dylan in Warsaw, Poland on July 19, 1994. He was promoting a third volume of hits at the time, and the set had a retrospective feel about it. He sang "Jokerman," "Tangled Up In Blue," and "Maggie's Farm," and he finished with "It Ain't Me, Babe" and "Blowin' In The Wind." I felt as if seeing him live, half way around the world, was a cumulative tribute to someone who had so influenced me. Over the subsequent years, when an opportunity to see Dylan again presented itself, I would shrug.
Of course, Bob Dylan has recorded three fabulous studio albums over the past decade, including the utterly brilliant Time Out Of Mind (1997), and so when it was announced that he would be visiting Lethbridge, Alberta, it occurred to me that to fail to see him again, in yet another offbeat venue, would be stupid. It has been fifteen years, after all. I am so glad I had a chance to share this great experience with all the folks who live here - as well as many visitors from Montana and British Columbia, from what I hear.
The tickets were expensive: about four times what used to count as "normal," and twice what I now usually pay. Luckily, we had wonderful seats about a row or two above stage left. Dylan was set up behind his keyboard on the right side, and we had a good view all night from just feet away. Unfortunately, we were also in line with a speaker, and so the volume was much louder here than at other points throughout the Enmax Centre. (The hearing has just returned to both my ears.) Coveted floor seats I bequeath to anyone who wants to stand and jostle for two hours. Enmax security did an excellent job of clearing our row of people who wanted to creep close enough to take a picture.
The set was heavy with material from Modern Times (2006), swaggering rockabilly that shifted Dylan just slightly from his bluesy turn. Happily, and luckily, the heavy backing band brought those songs alive for me, from "Rollin And Tumblin" to the climatic "Thunder On The Mountain." The back catalogue was represented by "Highway 61 Revisited" and, to my surprise, "Girl From The North Country." Similarly, on the verge of a generation-defining American election, Dylan returned, without comment, of course, to "The Times They Are A-Changin" and "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall." On this tour, Dylan has been using "Like A Rolling Stone" and "All Along The Watchtower" as encores, and he employed them here in that order. While the latter pales in comparison to the former, placing his two guitarists under considerable strain, it was enjoyed by the crowd, who were finally revealed in their pulsing enthusiasm by the house lights. The highlights for me were the blues numbers, however: "Lonesome Day Blues" from Love and Theft (2001) and especially "Love Sick" from Time Out Of Mind, the best song Dylan has recorded in twenty-five years. The live version, anchored by the bass and sharp, throbbing drumming, was worth the price of admission itself.
But what about that voice, much discussed? I have long ago thought of it as the sound of waves beating against a cliff, receding over the rocks and back to the sea. There is a beauty, a poetry that transcends even the words, though if you know not what to expect, I am sure it can be jarring. On this night, there was nothing of which one could legitimately grouse. My complaints are with my fellow concert goers. How many times did the people around me get up to go and get another drink, to go and get another pizza or hot dog? We are so used to socializing in our homes, we do not remember how to sit (or stand) and enjoy even a legitimate spectacle. I was sickened as the inhabitants of a luxury box across from us flashed the lights on and off, on and off, as they filled and refilled their glasses, oblivious to what was happening on the stage.
I have heard further complaining, in particular from those in attendance at his subsequent Regina show, that Dylan chose not to do an intimate, acoustic set of oldies. One of the problems with some Dylan fans is a persistent desire that he be what they think he should be, that he reinforce their nostalgia for a time they now view to be simpler and somehow idealized. What they fail to remember is that his artistry was forged in a troubled time of transition: that he has persevered and reinvented himself as this Dylan for now should be enough for everyone.
