So, some background. I became a Dylan fan when I was around 10-12, 1966 to
1968, and since then he's been the longest running cultural influence in
my life. His perspective on things--especially his perspective circa
*Highway 61 Revisited* and associated interviews and such--has shaped and
infected, if not dominated, my approach to things (in ways he probably
wouldn't recognize or approve if, but oh well, if you don't want that
happening, don't create anything).

He and I have gone through our ups and downs. I'd given up on him just
prior to *Blood on the Tracks,* and come close a couple times after that,
but he always pulled me back. Then there are the times I was perhaps
unhealthily obsessed--in the 1990s eg--too. I'm too old now to be
unhealthily obsessed about anything.

This is my 51st year seeing him. First time, I was 17, he was 33. We're
both older than that now. I mention that because we all bring baggage. I
attended with a few people--and talked with some others--who were first
timers, and I always tell such folk (if they'll tolerate me doing so)--and
try myself--to jettison all wishes and expectations and images and hopes.
Approach it like some anonymous musician who you have no idea what they're
up to, just be open to what happens, and if you like it, appreciate that
stuff--and you'll have a good experience. Be in the moment. Don't be
dragging 1963 or 1966 or 1979 or 1999 or anytime else into the hall with
you. Because you can be sure, Bob won't be.

Bob could come out, open a folding chair, and sit in it looking at us for
90 minutes and, while I wouldn't be thrilled, I wouldn't complain either.
I don't know if that makes me a fanatic or not. Whatever Bob wants to do,
I want to be there to see it, and I feel lucky when I can do that. Shout
out to Jared for making it possible, and third row too, which was pretty
nice for seeing which guitarist was doing what and etc.

For a lot of--probably most--people, they judge him on how well he pulls
off his song-and-dance-man thing. Which is right. That's his job, the job
he chose, and the one he wants--I presume--to be judged on. He's a
performer. But for a lot of us, we're pretty interested in the Bobness of
it all that's at the foundation of the performance, so whenever we can
witness Bob radiating his Bobness--which he does like no one else on the
planet--we're pretty happy then, too. It's an acquired taste I guess.

Speaking of guitars, Lancio and Britt are both very good, as you'd
imagine, and shared rhythm and lead duties about equally I think. Lancio
dominated the first third or so with acoustic lead guitar. It's some
subtle ensemble playing up there, you have to listen, and it does really
help being able to see.

The sound seems to be late-40s-ish, early-50s-ish rhythm and blues. It
seems loose, but calculatedly loose, like they know exactly what they want
and should be doing and are doing it with precision, and that precision is
aimed at producing a sound that seems a little off-the-cuff much of the
time. My impression.

Bob's voice sounded great, especially as the concert went on. At no point
did it flag, but at no point did it reach the heights of sublimity it did
in 2019, the last truly transcendent concert I heard from him. I've seen
the *R&RW* tour twice before this, so I had a sense of what I was in for.
Bob's piano-pounding was often, well, what do I know? It didn't strike me
as the most sophisticated ivory-tickling I'd heard. Did it work? I guess.
If it didn't, did I care? Did it detract from the experience? No. Not for
me.

I appreciated the crowd. The folk I could see were attentive to the point
of adoring, and many others were bordering on rowdy in their enthusiasm.
No one was yelling Rock and roll!" (much less "Whipping Post!"), most were
listening with care (those Yonder bags do wonders for that), no one was
talking, it was great. Touring the *R&RW* album for five years now means
people know it pretty well, and specific lines get whoops and hollers just
like his older stuff. That said, nothing excited the crowd like "It's All
Over Now, Baby Blue."

Musically, the harmonica work was probably the highlight. Bob spoke not a
word the entire night.

It was a great time. And very, very Bob in every way, or so I think. I
would be happy with any kind of performance at his age and at this point,
but, the thing is, he's so much more than that. He puts on an excellent
show, by virtually any measure. I think that's how he wants to be judged,
by the quality of what happens, not by weirdos like me who are musing
about "Bobness" and such.

Apparently, he's doing what he must do. He does it well.

So we rolled into South Bend, met up with Graham, and decamped to a little
hotel bar near the venue where the bartender acted as though five
customers were more than he'd ever seen. Graham had been out evangelizing
about Dylan all day, talking people into coming to the show. We introduced
HIM to the joys of the Manhattan. 

Before the show Mike, my partner in Dylan-related crime, and I
pontificated on what sort of surprises we might look for in a show these
days. The big three were "guitar on more than one song," "Bob talk," and
"use of the electric keyboard to his left." (Bigger surprises, like a set
list change, a guest guitarist, or even a new arrangement are always
possible but don't seem to be in the cards this week).  This show brought
none of those things - just the guitar on "It Ain't Me Babe," just the
simplest of band intros, and though it looked like he was leaning towards
the keyboard at one point, it didn't get played.

However, we got a very strong show, with a lot of inventive piano parts,
playful vocal gymnastics, and harp on some unexpected songs. (and a few
notes on a harp in the wrong key in "every grain of sand").

The song that stood out to most of us was "Desolation Row," with a harp
intro and an absolutely wailing third verse. "To Be Alone With You" felt
especially strong tonight, and the cheers for the "Gulf of Mexico" line in
 “Key West" continued to grow.  On "Watching the River Flow" (with some
surprise harp) Bob seemed like he was searching for a new rhythm and not
quite landing on it. It's great when he finds one that clicks, but when it
doesn't we get to watch him at work, which is interesting itself.

After the show I met up with Gary and Maddy (still heading for another
joint) and shot some pool at a bar down the block (where Graham put
"Murder Most Foul" and "Highlands" on the jukebox) before decamping out
the back door and through an alley to a late night oyster bar, where I
found out I love grilled oysters. The post-show adventure is part of the
show. We go rambling through the world. 

Another lovely early spring evening in Indiana with the sun still bright
in the sky as the crowd filtered into the Morris Performing Arts Center. 
The 2200 seat theater felt intimate compared to the 6000 seat Elliott
Music Hall show in West Lafayette on Friday night. And the bright lights
on the MPAC marquee had the full RARW graphics which made for a perfect
photo opp before entering the lobby and depositing cell phones into the
now familiar Yondr pouch. Same show, different city and theater, with a
very engaged and appreciative (and generally older than the West Lafayette
heavily student filled crowd) audience. The sound in the theater was well
balanced and clear from the start in South Bend. Start time at 8:12 and
over by 10:50. No long lines at the merch stand for this crowd. A post
concert meet up at the Cascade bar found a satisfied group of concert
goers enjoying the beautifully lit views of the rushing waters of the St.
Joseph River. A lovely evening for those lucky enough to attend and enjoy
our national treasure in the heartland! Long may he run!

Peter Smith

*First, I have no idea how Bob Dylan finds time to constantly tour given
his pace of metal/iron sculpturing and painting.  In any case, the
ever-evolving maestro's early pandemic shape shifting folk blues jazz
masterpiece album is quite the cat with 9 lives. *

*On the Desolation Row of 2025 Americana, Bob Dylan is resuscitating a
19th & 20th century subterranean cultural anchor grappling to endure in
the digital age.  This unlikely renaissance hearkens back to literary and
musical heritages rooted in Appalachia, Greenwich Village, and New
Orleans, for sure, but really all the way back to poetic ballads born
centuries ago in the isles of Scotland, Ireland, and England. All this is
occurring amidst the implosion of 249 years of the last best hope on
Earth, no less.*

*It was a great, but not exceptional performance. Given the standards of
this band, I'd rank it #3 of the 7 Rough and Rowdy concerts I've seen
(behind Memphis in April 2022 and Milwaukee in October 2023). *

*Where to start!?*

*From my wholly unobstructed vista in row 4 of the orchestra pit, things
looked outstanding and sounded just as good with Bob's piano and vocal
high in the mix, as were the drums of Anton Fig, which I'll get to.*

*As usual, I found Bob amusing throughout the evening like when he
completely turned his back to the audience and stared Fig right in the eye
on It Ain't Me, Babe, nailing a most melodic intro guitar lead.  If this
man has the rumored arthritis, he sure must be taking the right
anti-inflammatories.*

*These choice Rough and Rowdy Ways numbers are, like Bob himself, blank
artistic canvases allowing untold palettes of multi-colored rewrites,
detours, tempos, moods, auras, and inner visions. It really depends on
who Bob's latest drummer happens to be, each one better than the last or
next, if that makes any sense. On this tour the aforementioned Anton Fig
of Letterman late show fame has replaced steely veteran Jim Keltner, and
ably so.  For perspective, since George Recile departed the scene for
health reasons about 7 years ago, Jerry Pentecost is my pick over Fig and
Keltner, Charlie Drayton, and Matt Chamberlain, yet all 5 have been
superlative pulsing servants, letting Bob embody the skin-shedding
chameleon he is. Suffice it to say, percussion is a, or maybe even the,
key driver of the bus for the soon to be 84-year-old piano playing Bob
Dylan, with bass and electric and acoustic guitars extemporaneously
serving the man everybody came to see. *

*One example is the Latin beat given to When I Paint My Masterpiece that
would fit right into the street of Rio de Janeiro during Carnival.  Each
and every hole on Bob's Hohner harmonica was wildly explored during the
intro verse while Bob Britt held down a radically revised melodic hook.
Meanwhile, former 1970s Rob Stoner back-ups Tony (steady Eddie) Garnier
and Fig held down a throbbing groove served up somewhere south of
Mozambique. The 89th and counting version of this classic ditty going back
to The Band on Cahoots in September 1971 was truly the highlight of the
evening.*

*Then, there was the slow waltz on Black Rider highlighted sonically by
Doug Lancio's twangy acoustic fills and visually by Bob sipping from a
black coffee mug with his left hand while his right hand simultaneously
carried on a jazzy piano lead lick, echoing all out vocal reverb on the
outro on perhaps one of Bob's most complex songs ever, given all its
dazing and jarring major, minor, and 7th chords changes.*

*Another instance would be To Be Alone With You's thoroughly new chord
progressions and slow-based intro verse building into a foot stomper out
of left field leaving hardly a trace of the original 1969 straightforward
country rendition served up in Colombia's Nashville studios backed by a
bunch of legendary Nashville cats.*

*Or, Cross The Rubicon, made to sound like Cry A While on valium, leaving
the listener to wonder just how slow a slow blues can get.*

*Other high points were still more fancy fills from Lancio on the
grammatical sentence I've Made Up My Mind To Give Myself To You, the
understated lead guitar by Britt on Good Bye, Jimmy Reed, which cannot be
overstated, or the loud, flamboyant 88s on Watching The River Flow, the
marvelous crooning on I Contain Multitudes, and the juxtaposition on Every
Grain Of Sand between Bob momentarily puffing into an incorrect harmonica
and subsequently, with a bluesy one off surely never to be replicated
again, proceeding to blow the roof off the Morris Performing Arts Center,
closing the show in precisely 1 hour 45 minutes. *

Bob Dylan's Spring 2025 "Rough And Rowdy Ways" World Wide Tour brought him
to South Bend, Indiana on April 14, continuing his whistle-stop tour of
the American heartland which has included previous shows in Topeka,
Wichita, Davenport, and Peoria. As a true son of Hibbing, Minnesota, it
seems wholly appropriate that Dylan would have the tour itinerary include
these and other similarly situated cities in flyover country that helped
fuel by way of industry , manufacturing, and farming the great American
success story of the past 100 plus years.

Before an enthusiastic sold-out audience at The Morris Performing Arts
Center, Dylan followed the established setlist of this leg of the tour in
providing a well-received performance. Having attended 8 or 9 shows since
the RARW Tour launched in October 2021, I'm amazed that although the
setlist has remained generally static, the performances feature evolving
differences in musical and vocal stylings, delivery and emphasis. This
show seemed a bit looser than earlier versions with hints of swing in
extended guitar intros and handling of Desolation Row and It's All Over
Now, Baby Blue. Dylan's vocals were strong throughout the night,
particularly on Watching the River Flow,  and It Ain't Me Babe. His piano
playing was solid, but his harp playing on Desolation Row, When I Paint My
Masterpiece, Watching the River Flow, and Every Grain of Sand was
outstanding and provided several show highlights.

An enjoyable moment of the evening was provided by the audience's
enthusiastic reaction/response to the Key West/Philosopher Pirate lyric,
"Down by the Gulf of MEXICO."

Watching Tony Garnier play the standup bass as he did on a majority of the
songs is worth the price of admission in itself. Bob Britt and Doug Lancio
were strong on guitar and Anton Fig provided capable drum work. On the
other hand,  Donnie Herron's absence was lamentable, and having cut my NET
teeth when the band featured the masterful stickwork of George Recile, the
unparallelled rhythmic guitar chords of Stu Kimball, and the mesmerizing
barbed wire lead guitar stylings of Charlie Sexton, I found myself a bit
nostalgic for those pre pandemic performances.

The supporting cast may change and evolve, one generation may goeth, and
another cometh, but all the while the show goes on, the tour endures, and
Dylan abides.

Tom Burke