Review by Jack Andrews
This past Tuesday evening I traversed wide open interstate plains of Midwest landscapes
to Muncie, Indiana where I experienced my sixth dose of the Rough and Rowdy Ways
tour. The night marked my ninth Dylan show all in. The hours spent driving to see
Dylan in my lifetime help codify a position I strive for, as identified in the lyrics of False
Prophet, as an "enemy of the unlived meaningless life." While Muncie is never a typical
destination for live entertainment, Dylan has unexpectedly engulfed the Hoosier state
several times over in recent years. Having already brought Rough and Rowdy Ways to
Indianapolis, Bloomington, Evansville, South Bend, West Lafayette, and Fort Wayne, Dylan
visited Muncie to once again grace Indiana with an unforgettable performance as only he
can. It speaks volumes to the thoroughness of Dylan's touring history that this was his
third performance in a town residing in the relative obscurity of Muncie, Indiana.
Embarked upon in 2021, the Rough and Rowdy Ways tour has seen Dylan predominantly
showcase his brilliant 2020 album of the same name. In the past five years he has
expanded this showcase into novel (and at times experimental) arrangements of the
Rough and Rowdy Ways tracks, along with gradually paring down its representation in the
setlist over time. From 2021 to 2023 it seemed the majority of a Dylan performance was
comprised of works from the brilliant new record. As time went on, classic songs began to
reappear alongside these latest works (and a raucous variety of covers).
Similar to his beloved classics, these latest compositions underwent rites of passage
befitting the evergreen fan favorites. Fresh arrangements force even the most adept
Dylan fans to stay on their toes when identifying a tune in live performance. Songs
like False Prophet, I've Made Up My Mind to Give Myself to You, and I Contain Multitudes
received refreshing updates, even capricious impromptu jams, as an act of symbolic
integration into his wider catalog. Twists on chord progressions and phrasing subvert
expectations at all levels of devotion to Dylan's legacy as a live performer. What a joy it is
to witness in real time the rites of passage Dylan compositions go through as they pass
from new material into stone cold classics.
Attending Dylan shows can serve as an exercise in refined expectations. I do not count
on hearing anything in particular, and certainly do not anticipate recognizable arrangements.
As an avid watcher of setlists however, I became hopeful that Man in the Long Black Coat
could make an appearance, and indeed it did. This heavy-hitter from the 1989 album Oh
Mercy was a highlight of the set. The bridge seemed to take everyone by surprise, myself
included, as he uttered a line befitting such a sensation: "There are no mistakes in life
some people say, and it's true sometimes, you can see it that way." Man in the Long Black
Coat was performed far more faithfully than the stirring rendition of When I Paint My
Masterpiece, which in the past year has taken on a Latin flavor. Dylan shapes artistic reality
in his hands when he recites the line "Some day everything is gonna be different" as a
mambo beat underscores his once conventional folk rock ballad.
My favorite moment of the night was a stunning Watchtower rendition that left me in
tears. Bob crooned classic lyrics while the band glided gently beneath, until a progression
change shifted the typically static chords into a soaring major key rock chorus. In moments
like these I can truly tell how much Bob likes the Eagles. Several tunes saw Tony Garnier
play the role of maestro, dictating a tempo with wide arm gestures before honking a bass
line. The set concluded as many Rough and Rowdy Ways performances have, with a
contemplative and timeless Every Grain of Sand, ending with the only harmonica solo of
the night.
When the post-pandemic world began to reveal itself, I never imagined that seeing
Bob Dylan perform live 1-3 times per year would become my own new normal. In
these brief moments of solace, the world's chaos transforms from grifted rage into age
old tableaus of glorious song. There is an indescribable peace in knowing that no matter
what is happening in the world, Bob Dylan is out on the road confronting an artistic
human experience before grateful audiences in small American towns.
[TOP]
page by Bill Pagel