CONCERT REVIEW
Bob Dylan at Tanglewood
by Seth Rogovoy(LENOX, Mass., Aug. 5, 1997) -- Sometimes real life cannot but help intrude on art. Such was the case at Tanglewood on Monday night, when Bob Dylan's performance seemed littered with references to his recent brush with death.
After a spring concert tour of the Northeast presenting a vibrant Dylan, the 56-year-old folk-rock pioneer cancelled a planned European tour earlier this summer when he was reportedly stricken by a potentially fatal heart infection.
The Dylan seen at Tanglewood in only his second public appearance since last spring seemed untouched by illness. If anything, he seemed downright invigorated by the break in his "never-ending tour," but nevertheless glad to be back on the road.
Still, the specter of mortality loomed over much of his program. >From the dark, haunted narration of "Senor" to the nostalgic chorus of "My Back Pages," which had the audience cheering every time Dylan sang, "I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now," there was a sense of witness or testimony, of a man who has faced down many demons, including total darkness, and returned from the dark place to tell about it.
He did this in story, devoting much of his set to narratives like "Senor," with its brooding, plaintive yearning: "Can you tell me where we're heading? Lincoln County Road or Armageddon? Seems like I've been down this way before." He dug deep in songs like "Tangled Up in Blue," performed unplugged, string-band-style by his four-piece band, uncovering previously hidden nuances in chilling lines like, "The only thing I knew how to do was to keep on keepin' on...."
Dylan utterly transformed the old folk-blues staple, "Cocaine," from a celebration of the high to an addict's pathetic lament, his voice crackling with remorse on the line, "Hey baby, come here quick." He wasn't just channeling the spirit of an old bluesman on this number; he was, in 1997, the closest thing we have to a genuine Robert Johnson.
All was not dark and gloomy, however. Early on he treated the crowd to a jaunty version of "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere," which provoked an audience sing-along. Then again, even that deceptively light-hearted tune bore the weight of lines like, "Get your mind off wintertime, you ain't goin' nowhere." Needless to say, the crowd cheered at the implication that Dylan has no intention of passing into that good night.
Dylan also pulled out a few surprises, including a slow, funky version of "Tough Mama" from his "Planet Waves" album, played live for only the second time since 1974 (the first time was the previous night when the tour kicked off in Lincoln, N.H.). And for Dylan watchers, the absence of "All Along the Watchtower" from the set was as noteworthy as guitarist Larry Campbell's lovely fiddle accompaniment on "My Back Pages."
The highlight of Dylan's set was the closer, "This Wheel's on Fire," played in a darker, bluesier version than in recent shows. Dylan's phrasing was full of tension -- alternately crying and defiant -- and each time he got to the end of the self-referential chorus -- "This wheel's on fire, rolling down the road, best notify my next of kin, this wheel shall explode" -- his voice duly exploded in a suggestively funereal wail.
A drumbeat of thunder-like impact marked the introductory downbeat of the first of three encores, echoing the shot-heard-round-the-world impact of "Like a Rolling Stone," the song that pretty much revolutionized rock music. Needless to say, by this point, when Dylan asked, "How does it feel?", the audience answered vocally and in the affirmative.
After an acoustic version of "My Back Pages," Dylan sent the audience off into the wet night with the traditional closer, "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35," better known informally by its tag line, "Everybody must get stoned."
Appearing for the very first time in the warm-up slot before Dylan, 26-year-old Ani DiFranco displayed her phenomenal ability to lead a crowd through the ups and downs of her tortured-yet-inclusive folk- funk anthems. Egged on by a loyal cadre of fans down front, DiFranco alternately rapped, ranted, whispered and bellowed her way through a set of her songs that, based on an unscientific polling, made instant converts of many diehard Dylan fans.
Country-swing band BR5-49 provided a novel soundtrack of its retro- honky-tonk music for fans filing in early to the show.
[This review originally appeared in the Berkshire Eagle on Aug. 6, 1997. Copyright Seth Rogovoy 1997. All rights reserved.]
Seth Rogovoy
rogovoy@berkshire.net
music news, interviews, reviews, et al.
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