He went on stage at 9:45 p.m. and left at 11:30 p.m. In total, 105 minutes in which she did not say hello or goodbye. She mumbled three or four “thanks” here and there. She did not interpret Like a Rolling Stone, neither Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, neither blowin’ in the wind, neither Hurricane. In short: none of his classics played. Nor did he blew his emblematic harmonica. He demanded that they put the piano (the only instrument he played) four meters away from the edge of the stage, where he took refuge throughout the night. Was it Bob Dylan or a reflection of him? Who knows. And, despite all that has been said, it was a weighty concert, with a lot to tell and flashes of brilliance. It happened last night at the beginning of the musical cycle Botanical Nights, in Madrid, and it was the first concert of a tour that will have 11 more dates in Spain (the next one today again on this stage). It rained a lot together before we started. But the water stopped as soon as the Duluth legend began to sing. 2,200 people, all seated, sold out.
It is necessary to comment that this chronicle has been written from foreigners, because the teacher did not allow press accreditations for photographers or chroniclers. Hence, the image with which we illustrate the piece dates from 2019, from his concert in London’s Hyde Park. There is no other. Mobile phones were also prohibited, which all spectators put into sealed bags that were only opened when the music stopped.
Dylan does not want what happens in his recitals to be told in a schizoid attitude that provides more eccentricity to the character. But even if he doesn’t want to, you have to narrate this twilight Dylan, nothing complacent, intimate, bluesman, aged (82 years), at some stage even playful. He offered a basically blues concert based on his latest work (the juicy Rough and Rowdy Ways, 2020) and hardly looking back. And it turned out warm and even funny. He was accompanied by a good band (drums, two guitars, bass and another musician who played the steel guitar and the violin) that surrounded the protagonist and remained almost always static, without taking her eyes off the boss’s hands. In some phases there was a ramshackle instrumental development, a relief at a time when concerts already come from the studio with a sound that is as perfect as it is unnatural. Last night it was the other way around: mismatches, failures, improvisation arose. Normal things that happen when there are humans in charge. He, always at the piano, standing up, singing, although when he didn’t have to use his voice he took the opportunity to sit down for a few seconds and rest. But he looked fit at 82 years old. We would all sign his figures: he plays an average of 100 concerts a year.
The setting was sober, with a brown curtain in the background and little else. The musicians came out dressed in black and only a few lights in the background broke the general gloom. Neither screens nor mandangas. Dylan put on a show as if he were painting the picture of his life on canvas. He spoke of muses, of black horsemen riding a narrow path, of lonely men missing the girl who broke his heart, of crossing the Rubicon despite the risks involved on the other side… Dylan told the story last night of Dylan in the most intimate plane. how he sings in the lyrics I Contain Multitudesthe theme from his latest album that he offered in the first part of the concert, “I interpret the songs of the experience as William Blake and I don’t have to apologize because everything is flowing.”
We must talk about her voice, full of nuances, with those usual inflections of hers that are so imitated and with some roughness that confers beauty and truth at the same time. Despite the wear he was plethoric. He cut through the blues with a robustly resilient voice. At times a grim mist seemed to reach the spectators. It was his voice pleading with him in old age and full of biting humor.
It included in the repertoire almost all of his latest work, Rough and Rowdy Ways: topics like Black Rider, Goodbye Jimmy Reed, Key West Hello Gorgeous Mother of Muses. And then songs pecked from records like Nashville Skylineof which he made To Be Alone With You; John Wesley Harding from which he shelled I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight, or Slow Train Coming, where did you choose Gotta Serve Somebody. Made only one version Don’t fade away, by Buddy Holly, who sounded playful and in which some claimed they saw Dylan shake his head, amused. Could be…
A china in the shoe
And it is that the veteran musician did not make it easy at all, and that was what was interesting, an attitude that his fans, accustomed to steep paths, assume as part of their devotion to the legend. For Bob Dylan it would be extremely easy to play a handful of classics, be charming on stage, prepare some commonplace speech and even smile. But he does not belong to this mortal world and welcome; nor does he want to look like Mick Jagger or Bruce Springsteen, who give the public what you wish. No: Dylan is a Chinese in the shoe, uncomfortable, unpleasant, who will make you suffer and will make you rethink why the hell spend 120 euros to be there, under the drizzle, waiting for a Like A Rolling Stone that will never come And yet it is well worth it. At this point in his career, nothing is at stake when he goes on stage. You play to be consistent with yourself. And it is.
The concert ended with Every Grand of Sand, a notable theme of the weak album Shot Of Love, of his Christian stage. A psalm far from randomly chosen where he recites: “At the moment of my confession, at the hour of my deepest need, when the pool of tears under my feet floods each newborn seed, there is a dying voice within me that gets somewhere.” What a sensational ending: the dying voice reaching somewhere. Last night to 2,200 privileged people. 11 dates remain; if you can, don’t miss it.
Just outside the venue, a street musician began to play Dylan songs. Some spectators stayed to listen mr. Tambourine Man. It was the closest they got to enjoying a song Dylan classic.
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