Together Through Life

It's day two, I'm extremely pleased with the new album. Shake Shake Mama!

4-12-09 AMSTERDAM

HAPPY EASTER 4-12-09

Football hooligans partied on outside of the Bijlmer Sports Complex as mild mannered Bobsters filed into the Heineken Music Hall for Dylan’s final act in Amsterdam. “Gotta Serve Somebody” electrified pronto, though it was a truncated version like the openers from the other nights. “Don’t Think Twice” was well received, Dylan was swaying and plucking his organ gospel style. The Cowboy Band emerged from hibernation during a romping “Most Likely You Go Your Way and I’ll Go Mine.” “Million Miles” was a surprise and a performance that exceeded expectation. Dylan laid down swampy chords, recreating that bluesy late night feel of Time Out Of Mind. This band’s is at its best on this kind of number – one that hits a nerve and evokes a hazy feeling. “Stuck Inside of Mobile” was the right follow-up. Dylan seemed to be enjoying himself for the first time during this Dutch run.

The reworked Sugar Baby was an ugly baby, as was Beyond the Horizon. If this Horizon can be pulled off by Dylan, he’s still a million miles away. In between the ugly babies, Dylan goosed his Dutch fans with “Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum,”stepping to the microphone to do his lead singer thing while side-swiping his harp. Quality entertainment. I need to go off on a bit of a rant here, I have never seen audiences as disinterested and talking amongst themselves like the ones here in Amsterdam. I tried to avoid their yappng, but they were yapping all over the place - like kids during recess. I had to vent, because this went on for three shows and was especially disturbing during the slower songs.

Getting past the horizon, amends was made with a focused Desolation Row. Bob really locked into this one. A huge performance, but I was struck again by the lack of courage or conviction from the axe men. Moving forth with a crashing but meaningful blow, the band blasted Tough Mama again. Dylan improvised most of the words as the band prematurely evacuated, ending too quickly. By himself, with a little organ plinking, Bob sang the final “Crestfallen” verse.

The band redeemed themselves with a perverse ”Highway 61”. The Cowboy Band had some wild call and response exchanges that had Tony Garnier crying – truly unique improve - this is a show you’re gonna wanna track down. “Ain’t Talking” was beyond reproach - an Easter Sunday treat. “Thunder on the Mountain” was out of control – instead of pussy footing around, the guitarists went out on a limb and interacted with Dylan. LARS was powerful, and the three song encore just was. Amsterdam is such a phenomenal city, but the chatty cretins who came to these shows didn’t know what they were missing. Even Dylan seemed dismayed, after acknowledging the audience in typical band line-up fashion, he half heartedly pointed at them, spun away and quickly disappeared.

4-11-09 AMSTERDAM

AMSTERDAM 4-11-09

Round two at Heineken Music Hall was ragged early on. A short sloppy Maggie’s Farm was followed by a Mr. Tambourine which was enjoyable, but would have been better if the lyrics weren’t butchered. Man in the Long Black Coat caught me off guard, especially the swampy shuffling arrangement that ended with a sublime fadeout. The Cowboy Band donned black suits with shiny black leather jackets for the occasion. Dylan looked like the leader of a ragtime band with his white top hat, matching suit and black striped tie. It was a larger, more enthusiastic audience than the night before, though both shows were sold out. On both nights extra tickets were available at the box office, I was the chief beneficiary of the pre show tickets on both nights.

Dylan and his band wreaked havoc with a savage “When the Levee Breaks.” Levee is more explosive each time they play it – a battering ram of a jam. The performance continued with some an impressive trifecta: “When the Deal Goes Down” – “Things Have Changed” – “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll.” The crowd roared its approval for Hattie. The surprise of the night was a supercharged macho jaunt through “Tough Mama.” Dylan adlibbed “Tough Mama, put your arms around me wide like a circle around the sun…Tough Mama, must be time to get on the road again.” “Working Man Blues” was so great the night before, Dylan did it again, wouldn’t mind seeing it once tonight. “I can live on rice and beans.”

Glorious sun rained down on Amsterdam during the afternoon hours, every citizen poured out into the streets packing cafes and picking tulips and just walking around. After several pints and an intensive coffee shop session, I stood outside a church and listened to the clanging of the bells at 3PM. I think I could live in this city for a few months. Anyway, the reason I’ve gone off on this little rant is that the daily pleasure I experienced began to take its toll on me. I could barely stand for the remainder of the concert – my ability to review the rest of the show was severely hampered. After dutifully remaining for the show’s entirety, I took the Metro back to Hotel Linda, hiked up the stairs and engaged in some rejuvenating sleep. Looking forward to the funky finale tonight. Happy Easter.

4-10-09 Amsterdam

Amsterdam
Love Sick 4-10-09




Barely avoiding the pounding hail, I filed into the Heineken Music Hall. It’s a fine venue with a scuffed up dance floor and plenty of room to flop around. Long bars surrounded the perimeter – each attendee had his or her own bartender. There were even some Human Heinekens - a pair of young men selling brew with mini-kegs strapped to their backs. Anything goes in Amsterdam, times are tough, this is the place where the weird go to get stranger. Well almost anything goes, a no smoking sign was flashed upon the wall.


“When I Paint My Masterpiece” was gold in the second spot. Bob’s down-singing thing is back - his vocal inflections grumbling into a powerful rumble. Looking spiffy, the maestro was dressed in black with matching green shirt and tie. I thought of Garcia and Danko during “Masterpiece.” I don’t wish I was back in the land of Coca-cola just yet, but I might after 72 hours more of debauchery. The European flavor continued with a fine “Boots of Spanish Leather.” The Bob Dylan Show’s changing black backdrop was tasteful.


“Rolled and Tumbled” sounded a little out of whack and “Po Boy” barely recovered, though I was excited to see “Po Boy” for the first since it was debuted on 4-30-05. “Working Man Blues” shined, Dylan vocals were on for this recession special. Bob continued to flaunt his recent masterpieces with a stomping “High Water.” Donnie strummed some banjo as Tony and George thundered and rattled the arena all night. The axe men were competent and supportive, but they didn’t sparkle on anything. “Love Sick” was a gift – the Red Light District Special, the beat was pounded with gritty precision – catapulting into another bone rattling ride down “Highway 61.” The mystical roll of fate continued with “Nettie Moore.”


My friends, that portion of the concert was delicious. However, there seemed to be a lot of talking in the crowd. “Summer Days” was hot and “Like a Rolling Stone” was mundane. The crowd was lame, mustering meager enthusiasm to bring Bob back for the encore. I actually enjoyed “Spirit on the Water” in its new spot as second encore. Jet lagged and emotionally exhausted, I headed straight back to Hotel Linda, where I will be hunkered-down for this three night run. There’s three steep flights of stairs leading to my room, a highway to hell. If anyone wants to visit, you have to sign a medical waiver before you start hiking up the stairs, and you may cough up a spleen before you get there. My reward once I get there is a 6x8 foot room with a cot size bed, dirty red carpet and enough dust for a Woody Guthrie ballad. I did get some much needed sleep, though. It’s a new morning and Bob’s just begun leaving his greasy trail.

OH LORD!

11-21-08

Almost two years ago to the day (11-20-06), Dylan closed out his initial Modern Times tour with a barnburner of a performance in Midtown at the New York City Center on a seasonably warm evening. It was windy and chilly on this occasion as I left work and boarded an A Train for Washington Heights and the United Palace Theatre. This renovated theatre also serves as a place of worship for Rev. Ike’s Church, so Dylan opened with “Gotta Serve Somebody.” Bob hadn’t played that in awhile. It sounded great as Dylan stood and delivered from center stage swiping in nifty harmonica licks between lines. A few songs later, Bob sang, “This is a day only the Lord can make,” as he concluded “When the Levee Breaks.” What a version! Hellfire blues, lean and mean.

“The Times They Are-A-Changin” and “Things Have Changed” sizzled in the second and fifth spots respectfully – awesome songs to contemplate as I swayed in my third row dead center loge seat. I was locked in tight and out of range as I pounded tap beer in my dark blue business suit, I was dressed like a member of the Cowboy Band. With the economy disastrously freefalling, anthems like “It’s Alright Ma” were more relevant than ever before –“Money doesn’t Talk it swears…Even the President of the United States sometimes must have to stand naked.” Good luck Obama, you’re gonna need some help from the Lord above. Dylan looked out into the crowd truculent as a rooster and howled, “He not busy being born is busy dying.” I’ve seen a lot of versions of this song over the years, but none were as powerful or as electrifying as this one. As one would certainly expect, “Desolation Row” was a thrill to witness, though it started out a little choppy. Dylan’s organ playing was magnificent here, fascinating stuff; nobody is on this guy’s wavelength, though the Cowboy Band does a magnificent job following along. This was a great night for the band. Surprising the faithful with “Tomorrow is a Long Time” in the fourth spot, Dylan had unleashed a supreme concert through the first half.

After spoiling us with lobster medallions, Dylan served cheese puffs for the next five songs. I’m quite fond of “Beyond the Horizon,” but Dylan has yet to nail it in concert. The musical arrangement was fetching, but his vocal cadence was way off. “Make You Feel My Love” had a great harp finale. “Spirit on the Water” was well played and received, but it was the fifth consecutive uninspiring selection. However, everybody was happy. Much ganja filled the air. There were no lines for fresh tap beer or the restrooms. Seeing a concert at this venue is a pleasure you must experience.

Bob stripped all the meat off the carcass with a curt “Highway 61,” knives scraped against bone. Recile was a beast pounding the percussions wildly. Tenacious rock-and-roll thundered through the palace, 67 year-old Bob Dylan had conquered NYC all over again. As the crowd went bananas, Dylan shuffled out from behind the organ, looked at Garnier, looked at the crowd, and then raised his arm and began to fidget around with the back of his neck behind his top hat. He looked like a pitcher in search of a foreign substance for the purpose of doctoring a spitball. We were back on track. Dylan performed “Ain’t Talkin” with visceral preacher-like charisma –“They say prayer has the power to heal so pray for the mother.” The band crisply played four unique and succinct solos. An incredible masterpiece was painted at the theatre. Dylan’s vocals were exuberant during “Thunder on the Mountain” and he dished out an extended organ instrumental. The three-song encore consisted of the usual culprits with extra zest. That “Watchtower” was positively wacky and the crowd adored Dylan’s guitar solo during “Blowin in the Wind.” Dylan’s still leaving a greasy trail, so I’ll be back for many more in 2009.

http://www.visionsofdylan.com/ "The world of research has gone berserk"

MORE RICE AND BEANS

MORE RICE AND BEANS

11-19-08

It was a glorious road trip to Oneonta. I enjoyed the two hour bus ride from the Port Authority to Kingston while listening to Tell Tale Signs. After checking into a forlorn Super 8, my long-time friends King and Blaze picked me up for the last leg of the journey. Sticks, deer, a mountain and ninety miles of road headed west were all that separated us from Oneonta. It was a cool crisp autumn eve. We listened to Tell Tale Signs all the way – “Some of us turn off the lights and we lay off/ In the moonlight shooting by/ Some of us scare are selves to death in the dark/ To be where the angels fly/ Pretty maids all in a row lined up/ Outside my cabin door/ I never wanted any of them wanting me/ Except the girl from the Red River Shore.”

The Alumni Field House at SUNY Oneonta was quaint, smaller than it sounds. The basketball backboards were raised to the low-lying rafters and the concessions consisted of bottled water for $1. They took our tickets from us and put them in a yellow sack and returned them after the show instead of giving us stubs. I’m not sure what that was all about. Dylan set the tone by opening with “The Wicked Messenger.” Getting up front was a hassle-free experience and the music was thundering. Under dim lighting, Bob looked dashing in a black suit with matching silver medallions, gold tie and white top hat.

Bob slipped out from behind his organ for a stroll to center stage on “It Ain’t Me Babe.” He side saddled by the microphone twisting to his right. Between singing lines, he added some tasty harp licks, circa 1966. His gesturing and posturing was fascinating all evening. Garnier’s bass was blasting my brain during “Levee Breaks.” Dylan taunted the college kids singing, “I was so much older than/ I’m younger than that now.” Donnie’s banjo sounded great on a brilliantly rearranged “High Water.” Near the end of each verse, the Cowboy band switched gears from thrashing blues to a feel good ragtime sound – the world of American music has gone berserk.

Dylan’s Wolfman howl worked over my eardrums as he shuffled to center stage for “Stuck Inside of Mobile.” Somebody yelled out, “Hey Dylan, eat some soup.” We were swimming in a sea of organ as Dylan chastised us with “Ballad of a Thin Man.” His organ playing was infectious, marching to its own beat. He also treated us to one of his patented and repetitive two note harp solos. It never grows old, only keeps getting better. The rock and roll bombardment continued on “Honest with Me”, “Tweedle Dee”, and “Highway 61.” Stu’s playing more leads than I can ever recall, it mixed in nicely with Denny’s jazzy touches. The Field House was dark during Tweedle, as Dylan was orating/ lead-singing – at times he looked like he was balancing himself on a surf board; then he looked like he was trying out for the lead role in West Side Story. There was a lot of finger pointing and gesturing to the audience. “Tweedle” was powerful and wonderfully strange.

The highpoints of the show were the slower numbers from Modern Times. “Workingman’s Blues # 2” was immense – booming vocals with chilling poignancy against a delightful arrangement. There’s nothing wrong with living on rice and beans. His vocal inflections and word play on “When the Deal Goes Done” and “Nettie Moore” was gripping. Denny really added some creative touches pulling out those Wes Montgomery – Grant Green like riffs. Bob was extremely animated during his vocal presentation of “Like a Rolling Stone.” He laughed into the microphone several times, as well as laughing in Donnie’s direction. Dylan further riled-up the crowd by playing a Gibson Guitar that was thrice his size during “Blowin in the Wind.” The crowd was pleasant, but not the type of crowd you would expect to whip Dylan into a frenzy. Whatever the reason, Dylan had IT going on in Oneonta, New York – a small old-time railroading town with two colleges, a Minor League stadium for young Yankees working their way towards the Majors, and the Soccer Hall of Fame. It was another new stop for the Bob Dylan Show, in its 20th year – one of its most innovative, strangest and finest years. Here’s to the next twenty.

http://www.visionsofdylan.com/ "I say it so it must be so"

Bad News for Joe the Plumber

11-04-08

NORTHORP AUDOTORIUM

It was a performance dominated by anthems that changed American culture. Revisiting his old school, University of Minnesota, Dylan played “The Times They Are-A-Changin,” “Masters of War,” “It’s Alright Ma,” “Like a Rolling Stone,” and “Blowin in the Wind. ” Walking out into the lobby of Northrop Auditorium after the show, there was a thunderous roar, females were hysterically screaming. Initially I thought Tony Garnier had been spotted in the lobby, but everybody was reacting to the scoreboard on the big screen: Obama 297 Mc Cain 130. It was bad news for Joe the Plumber, but fantastic news for Obama, Dylan, all the young liberals on campus and yours truly. A poignant celebration broke out in front of the Auditorium. This was the place to be – a crowd touched by Dylan’s desire celebrating on Obama’s historic night.

Around noon time, I was kicking around in Bob’s old crib – second floor of what was Gray’s drugstore in Dinkytown. Dylan spent some time up there reading Woody Guthrie’s Bound for Glory in 1960. It was an unseasonable warm and glorious day, t-shirt weather. Gray’s is now Loring Pasta Bar, a nice place to woof down lunch. I had a few beers and a yellow fin tuna sandwich topped off with a jalapeno laced pickle. This was a historic day; Dylan’s first major concert took place on 11-4-61 at Carnegie Hall. I was born on 11-4-63.

There was a popping instrumental, but Dylan lyrically butchered “Cat’s in the Well.” The crowd went ballistic when they realized “The Times They Are-A-Changin” was second. His fellow Minnesotans were boisterous all night. Dylan offered up a pair of harp solos and went for a stroll to the center of the stage on solo #2. I liked Summer Days in the third spot, but only Dylan jammed on organ during the instrumental. It’s weird, there are these two guys in suits and top hats, Denny Freeman and Stu Kimball, who used to rock solos, but now their lack of contribution is staggering. Bob needs to free them up to play, or sack them.

During “This Wheel’s on Fire,” Dylan emerged from behind his organ and shuffled around the stage like a motivational speaker as he sang. He then placed the microphone on stand, continuing to sing, now motioning with his hands like a flight attendant reviewing safety procedures. A few Rockettes style kicks were thrown in for good measure. The next song started off like the Barney Miller TV theme, no wait a second, it sounded like “Chain Lightning” by Steely Dan, but I realized Dylan’s garbled words were “Tangled Up In Blue.” Yikes, this really didn’t work out too well. Two songs later, the reworking of “Stuck Inside of Mobile fared much better, though Dylan mangled and flat out blew several lines.

“Masters of War” was excellent, and with the inclusion of an eerie “John Brown,” this performance had the feel of a final parting shot at the Bush regime. Musically, the concert was a little ragged, Dylan never really got on a magical roll, though his organ playing was excellent and dominating the sound. “Shooting Star” was a great choice for his return to Minnesota: “Seen a shooting star tonight and I thought of me. Was I still the same did I ever became what you wanted me to be.” A black backdrop with stars appeared, created for this exact moment in the show, I suppose. Dylan started the song playing keys and then strapped on his electric guitar for the final verse. Huge roar; that was the extent of the guitar experiment. A late “Under the Red Sky” was another nice call, loosening-up the mood. I love “Thunder on the Mountain,” but the lack of Freeman’s guitar was disappointing.

“Ain’t Talkin” was a great way to wrap the set up. In his black pants with the singular red stripe running vertically and grey top hat, Dylan barked out his masterpiece with gritty determination. It was a wonderfully strange show. “Like a Rolling Stone” was necessary, as always. Dylan wailed a great harp solo to the crowd’s delight. It was a spot usually reserved for Freeman, who is quickly joining Stu Kimball and Stephen Marbury on the bench. Oh well, Tony and George are still cranking and Donnie’s happily hanging in. Before “Blowin’ in the Wind,” Dylan said something like, “I was born around the time of Pearl Harbor, I’ve seen some darkness, but I think things are beginning to change.” After thrilling the crowd with the final encore, the hometown hero, came to the front of the stage with his Cowboy Band lined up like statues behind him. He was giddy, smiling at the rowdy audience. He raised his arms upwards in a curling motion, holding them there suspended, palms stretched outwards as he swaggered to the left and shuffled to the right. I give all this to you, the good people of Minneapolis. Watching Dylan receive his admirers was worth the price of admission. We filed into the lobby and looked up at the screen. An African American man was elected President of the United States and the all white crowd broke into an hour of spontaneous celebration.