Don't want to hit the road again (boy, isn't this the stupidest way to go
on holidays, just getting more and more tired each day? XD) without
pointing out some details about last night.

Bob did a false start when he came in about 30 seconds or so after the
band came in and started playing, just to reached the piano and then went
back behind the curtain before coming out again after some other half a
minute. It seemed totally an "oh, I forgot the gas on at home" situation,
really funny way to commence.

'It Ain't Me Babe' not only featured the long guitar fingerpicked solo but
a truly blooming harp outro solo. Probably due to the current world
situation and specially the US current state I felt so strange coming over
this time, still feel quite unease here, to the point I was fearing that
not even Bob's music could change my mood, but that performance was
somehow a boost in my inner faith and in the prospect of better times
ahead. So strange it had to be at that particular song.

The whole show made me feel and reminded my very first show in 2010,
something that almost had never occured to me before (maybe Milwaukee
2019?), in the way that I felt a piercing gaze in Bob's voice that could
be really transfigurative (or, as he himself puts it, capable of forging
your identity from the inside out). There was a perfect balance in his
voice and in how he reacted to the band's proposals sometimes and others
how the band reacted to him that gave the whole thing an elevated yet
tremendously concrete vibe. Best example of it could be 'My Own Version of
You', very similar in the surface to the stripped down London renditions
(turning the mischievous Pygmanlion-ish tale into a romantic plea) but
with a very important 'but': instead of enlarging the lines' ends à la
'Made Up Mind', he grabbed firmly their leash, showing a subtle restraint
in the delivery that made the whole song a crazily hypnotic thing to
behold, as if he was glimpsing, holding and almost sharing a deadly
secret. That moment in the song's last lines, when he describes all the
things about that "you" he'll bring to life, with that voice that
tightroped all the danger and despair, when he extended his left hand and
pointed to the audience was so unbelievably meaningful.

It's not common that I find new meanings of points in a song during the
show itself but that's what just happened on 'Made Up My Mind' when he
sang "I travelled the long road of despair, I met no other traveller
there". Maybe never reflected too much on that line, only got emotional on
the loneliness it conveyed, but last night it dawned upon me that it's not
that true that in the hard times you are all alone, so then why this line?
I instantly felt he must be talking about the feeling itself, how the
feeling of despair, or any feeling in a way, cannot be entirely shared,
only you alone experience your own feelings, it is maybe a sad thought but
also a thumbs up to the fact that it's ok to feel what you feel as no one
can truly feel the same as you (maybe that's why the line "I do what I
think it's right, what I think it's best" in 'Key West' hit also really
hard in Little Rock). And then the next line "lot of people gone, people I
knew", which is obviously a line about the dead can also be a line
connected to the previous ones, all the rest who cannot fully share or
understand your genuine feelings. I don't know, as I said last night it
gave me a lot to process and think about.

Last but not least, now I'm not sure if it was in 'Key West' or
'Desolation Row' (I guess it was in the latter) when the melody kept
evolving with each verse, omfg.

And I also don't remember exactly if it was the final harp blows or the
final piano notes in 'Every Grain of Sand' but I do remember my exact
feeling of "f*** yeah, it is what it is" and couldn't help but even jump a
bit when applauding during the final salute [:lol:]

It has taken me a couple of shows, but I'd definitely keep my eyes wide,
who knows if the chance won't come again...