Reviewed on Wednesday September 3
The tickets for tonight’s concert explicitly state, “Bob Dylan performs the entire show,” as if to reassure fans that the 73-year-old immortal won’t disappear halfway through for a pee break and never return. It’s an unusual disclaimer, but understandable too; anecdotal evidence over recent years suggests one never knows which version of Dylan will turn up on any given night. And anecdotal evidence is all we have, given the ban on photography and perpetual secrecy with which Robert Allen Zimmerman goes about his business.
So it’s no surprise when Dylan emerges onto a dimly lit stage, standing small beneath a wide-brim hat and blazer jacket. Around him is a half-circle of various sized microphones, seemingly to pick up every last whisper of breath that emerges from his mouth. It’s the voice of a man who’s been down a long, long road, and felt every bump along the way.
The five-piece band locks into step immediately on ‘Things Have Changed’, instruments routed through gorgeous vintage amps, though Dylan himself won’t pick up a guitar tonight – he’s either front and centre with one hand grasping the microphone stand and the other limp by his side, or seated at the baby grand piano stage left. The occasional jolt of energy comes via a harmonica solo, but most of all it’s the songs that do the talking.
‘Workingman’s Blues #2’ is a highlight of the first half, and while Dylan’s lyricism is difficult to understand through his rasps on the earlier songs, here he sounds determined. The legendary folk troubadour became more of an electric country-blues balladeer long ago, and the performances are designed to match – this is no arena show, and perhaps that’s why he’s been criticised in the past, but it matters not in a venue sized this perfectly. Likewise, the first real hit in the setlist, ‘Tangled Up In Blue’, is a near-unrecognisable rewrite of its former self, driven now by the rhythm section. But there’s no impression that Dylan wants to be anywhere else but here tonight, and that’s what counts the most, especially when it comes to relaying newer tunes like the forthright ‘Pay In Blood’ or the delicate ‘Forgetful Heart’.
By the time it comes to encores, much of the patiently seated theatre crowd has charged to the front to witness a hero close-up – it’s difficult from the back, given the softness of that light – and Dylan bids farewell with a piano-led ‘All Along The Watchtower’ and a gentle ‘Blowin’ In The Wind’. The rearrangements are no doubt to sustain Dylan’s own artistic interest, but perhaps to protect his voice as well. Then again, the marvel of Bob Dylan has never been his voice, but that he still has something so urgent to say.
