Review by Padraig Hanratty
When you go to a Dylan concert - indeed, any concert - many variables
come into play...
You might have a great view of a pillar or the wall on the other
side of the arena. You might be sitting beside a drunken group
on a lads' or ladies' night out, bellowing over the music. Or perhaps
a fight breaks out in the row behind you. Maybe the sound bounces around
you in a whirlwind of eardrum-piercing white noise. And, of course, maybe
the performer couldn't be arsed and just half-heartedly phones in the
performance or spends the evening mumbling off-mic and glaring at a
terrified band.
And then sometimes... it all comes together: the venue; the sound; the
audience; the seat; the atmosphere; the band; and of course the
performance (and the Voice).
On 20 November, I found myself a few rows from the stage
at the Waterfront Hall, Belfast, with a clear line of sight
of Dylan at the piano. It soon became clear that Dylan was fully engaged
in this show, and the fully engaged audience reciprocated, with each
feeding off the other. For example, it was noticeable that, in general,
people waited until in between songs to scurry out to imbibe or expel
fluids, leading to an almost theatre-like atmosphere throughout the
performance.
The Waterfront Hall is a modern, almost futuristic performance space,
with balconies perched up high like pods in the Star Wars senate. And all
eyes (from hardcore fans to civilians alike) were on the Speaker of the
House.
Dylan was, by his gnomic standards, in chatty form as he relaxed into the
evening's performance. There were several thank yous. We got band
introductions. And, after 'Key West', he told us that he'd written that
song in Hemingway's house and felt moved by the spirit. And then chortled
merrily at a joke that probably only he understood.
The setlist was as established throughout this tour, with one
surprise at the end.
However, songs that seemed to die a death on stage in the Liverpool
M&S Bank Arena last year tonight swaggered and swayed with confidence
and grace, with the audience rewarding him with enthusiastic applause
and cheers, and several standing ovations.
A notable example was the aforementioned 'Key West'. In Liverpool, it
started as slow torture and soon degenerated into a war of attrition with
an increasingly restless and (ironically enough) rough and rowdy audience.
I think it was also during 'Key West' in Glasgow recently that one
disgruntled civilian shouted, "Get on with it, Bob!"
Tonight, however, 'Key West' was mesmerizing, with the audience paying rapt
attention to the unfolding, heat-drenched drama, before erupting into a
standing ovation. As often noted, the songs from Rough and Rowdy Ways seem
to thrive in smaller venues but get lost in the boomy echoes of large
arenas.
'My Own Version of You' has been rebuilt again on stage. In 2023, the song
fairly crackled, with the drums snapping like bursts of electricity that
brought the song and the creature to life. The song seemed to lose way in
2024, becoming a stretched-out noodlefest. But has been resurrected again
on the later stages of this tour. The song is now propelled along by a
driving martial beat, as if Bob is not just building a creature for his
own pleasure but actually summoning a zombie army.
The Constantinople version of 'When I Paint My Masterpiece' should have
become an irritating distraction by this stage, but it's a surprisingly
welcome and charming moment of levity in the midst of all the recent
mostly dour narratives. Plenty of smiles and laughter when this one chimed
sprightly to its conclusion.
Dylan was on piano for all songs, with Bob Britt and Doug Lancio on either
side of the piano, never taking their eyes of the main man. Anton Fig kept
the beat steady all night, while Tony Garnier, the power behind the throne,
kept a watchful, affectionate eye from his bass guitar at the back of the
stage.
Dylan piano tinkling is as unconventional as his guitar playing, but his
gusto on the keys was a sight to behold. He took to the guitar for lo
instrumental intros to 'Watching the River Flow' and 'To Be Alone with
You'. And he was in strong voice all evening, barking away and yowling
his vowels with surprising passion. (How is he not as bored with this
setlist as most of the audience are by now?) He stood up a few times to
acknowledge the audience's appreciation.
The off-mic singing that plagued that start of this tour wasn't as much
in evidence (but not entirely absent either) tonight, with the mic
teetering on the edge of the piano throughout the evening.
Listening to Dylan close with 'Every Grain of Sand' during the
Rough and Rowdy Ways tour is always an emotional experience, because
there's always that fear that this will be the last time you'll see
him on stage. It's a stately way to bring down the curtain on the show.
Except for tonight... To the astonishment of tour veterans, the band then
kicked into a raucous, rowdy 12-bar blues number. What rabbit was he
pulling out of the hat now? It turned out to be one of local man Van
Morrison's rabbits, 'Going down to Bangor'. An obscure choice from
2016 which only seasoned Van fans would recognise. However, excitement
grew as the audience realised that Dylan was mentioning Bangor over and
over.
And then came the priceless moment as Dylan declared:
Yeah we're going down to Bangor,
Just six miles from Donaghadee.
Oh, we're going down to Bangor,
Some six miles from Donaghadee.
I want you to sing this with me
Tra-la-la, tra-la-lee.
(Van's rhyming dictionary seemed to have deserted him at that point...)
And then it was over. Dylan and the band soaked up
the applause at the end of the show, returning later for a second bow. A
moment of collective affection for this for ever-unpredictable legend.
There are only three more shows on this leg of the tour. Who knows what
other surprises he has planned?
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