Musical Magic
It’s been a busy stretch of time here on the edge of the world. To begin the week we tumbled home out of the clouds and a fevered Floridian dream. To close it we flew down the shimmery stretches of my favourite freeway into the arms of a magical evening with the master of song at the beginning of his Long Hot Summer ‘26 tour.
Over the years that we’ve been in Southern California, we’ve seen Bob Dylan perform in a variety of venues in both Los Angeles and Orange County. On Sunday night we were a little further south in San Diego at The Rady Shell, an outdoor venue on the water, where those passing by in boats could pause and catch the whole show for free.
We stayed with our daughter who was seeing Bob for the first time, at a lovely hotel in the Gaslamp Quarter. As we strolled through the breezy warmth, so different from the suffocating humidity of Florida, towards the evening that awaited, my anticipation was mixed with ambivalence about the prospect of seeing Bob in an outdoor venue. We’d tried it twice before here in SoCal - at the Hollywood Bowl and somewhere in Irvine-and both times the acoustics had been a terrible disappointment.
Delightfully, my nerves proved utterly unfounded. Our seats were far nearer the front than I had anticipated and the acoustics at this venue were wonderful. Stewarded by a host of friendly staff and volunteers the atmosphere was relaxed and happy and we settled in to enjoy the phone free show; rather than the Yondr pouches, the no phones rule was a strictly enforced honours policy which was generally well-respected.
My last Bob concert was June 2022 but in recent months, since the launch of his Patreon in February, I’ve been falling a little more in love with his work each week- if such a thing is possible! The freshness and depth of the weekly content, from the magical short stories to the Letters Never Sent which give voice to an understanding of the human condition so deep it often leaves me in tears, speak of an artist who is still moving forward, still creating, not content with resting on the laurels of his accomplishments. Sunday night’s concert danced to the same tune.
The evening opened with two excellent musical acts, The John Doe Trio followed by Lucinda Williams. In typical rock concert style, the stage was flanked by high screens on either side which moved between close up shots of the lead singer to wide angled view of the whole band. The sound was loud as was the singing and the audience were happy and appreciative. Standard, high quality musical entertainment.
Lucinda Williams left the stage around 8.15pm. The screens faded to black as the sky drew an ever deepening cloak of darkness all around us. Some twenty minutes later Bob and his band walked out onto a set lit with mystery and a simple backdrop. From the first moment, the music took center stage. As I had suspected would be the case, the screens allowed no intimate close ups of Bob or any of his musicians, rather the view was wide angled of them all from a distance, thus preserving the anonymity and atmosphere.
From the opening notes of To Be Alone With You, Bob held those of us who were there to participate in his experience spellbound. This is Bob, at 85, sharing his beautiful shining musical mastery with us and his kindness was in every note he sang. It’s the kindness of a long life lived well, of the road, of experience, of knowledge gained. It was there throughout the evening for those who could see feelingly.
It’s a long time since I have seen him take the stage after an opening act. On this occasion, the juxtapostion was illuminating. The contrast in mood, tone and energy was so stark that it struck me immediately with visceral force. He truly is holding those cards from another world and at moments during the show one could almost hear the voices singing from the land far beyond. The muted nature of the set-Bob himself was lit no more brightly than anyone else- the powerful restraint of his performance, the refusal to allow noisy camera work to distract the audience, all worked together to set the irresistible and ethereal spirits of the music free.
It was a delight to hear such a varied set list and to see guitarist Julian Lage join the band for the show. Within many of the songs, Bob was changing and moving lines; ducking and weaving around various rhythms in that wonderful way he has. It brought to mind his Theme Time Radio Hour recitation of Annabel Lee, where he does the same sort of thing for Poe’s ballad. Many of the songs had been treated to fresh musical arrangements, the most striking of which was Paint My Masterpiece reworked samba style, showcasing its seemingly infinite flexibility!
Particular favorites of mine were Man in the Long Black Coat- a live performance of this one is a treasure to be guarded with the full force of memory- Soon After Midnight which was delivered with such exquisite tenderness it had tears standing sentinel and a simple and traditionally arranged Every Grain of Sand as the set closer.
Bob played five songs from Rough and Rowdy Ways. Each had a new twist and was executed with power and precision; you could have heard a pin drop during the magisterially menacing Black Rider. Just incredible. Rubicon was performed with relish, the people sitting behind us joined in with each of the characteristically Bob line-ending vocals and the dramatic piano chords after each chorus were great fun. Goodbye Jimmy Reed was very rockabilly- just wonderful and the tempo of Made up My Mind slid softly into another world entirely.
There were three deceptively simple country covers, my favourite of which was the Charlie Rich song, I’ll Make It All Up To You. Each of these marked gentle and heartfelt transition points throughout the set. Beautifully done.
All Along The Watchtower was at number three in the set and by all accounts it’s pretty much the same new arrangement that he played on the Outlaw Tour with Willie Nelson. I’ve heard this song live many times and yet on Sunday evening it was as if I was listening to it for the first time. Maybe it’s because of Bob’s Patreon content, maybe its because of his recent and poignant remarks on age but whatever the reason, I heard him sing these words as if I’d never heard them before:
But you and I we’ve been through that
And this is not our fate
Come let us not talk falsely now
The hour is getting late
Before we knew it, the hour was late indeed and much too soon the last notes faded away. This inscrutable and beloved performer, who has given us a lifetime and more, stood beside his piano for a moment and then, was gone. The houselights went up and my heart ached a little at the brightness of the loss and the fading of the dream.
