Up Front

I was going to mention something about how irritating I found it that people near the front of the cheap section at the Dylan concert started to loudly move backward right in the middle of a gorgeously mellow Simple Twist of Fate. But since we were able to push up into their space I can't say it detracted from the whole experience that much. Just served to prove a point - that a lot of people don't seem to have much capacity for actively listening even when there's a huge amount to gain from doing so.

But since this is the last thing I'm intending to write about a great night it seems churlish to leave things on a critical note. So I'll just mention how powerful it was to see Dylan centrestage pretty much alone, with no guitar or keyboard for a shield, on three songs (I think, though I may have lost count - certainly on Tangled Up In Blue and Ballad of a Thin Man.) Framed by a back light, stance slightly side-on to the audience, his white hat shrouding his upper face, he looked for all the world like a distinctly untrustworthy gambler who intended to take you for everything he could.

It was theatrical in the truest sense. It was commanding in a deeply powerful way - fuuny-serious, like so much of his recent material. Something was happening and I wasn't quite sure what it was. Vital. Something alive.