Bill Carter - Innocent Victims and Evil Companions

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of listening to a favorite record for the first time. It is at at once a deep, intimate familiarity, as if the songs have always existed in the fabric of life, mixed with the titilating excitement of discovery. The initial listen begs another, and another, until finally the album is a tangible piece of existence and memory. It is a feeling as rare as it is satisfying, but it is the sense evoked by Bill Carter on his latest effort, Innocent Victims and Evil Companions, out February 27th, on Forty Below Records.

Ahead of this release, Carter already holds an enviable position; with over 200 recorded covers of his songs (including mega hits “Crossfire,” “Willie The Wimp” and “Why Get Up”), he’s a proven success in an industry where even a definition of the term is elusive. But as an artist never content with stagnation, he is constantly working to expand his musicality. Where previous albums tend towards guitar-centric three chord rock and roll, Carter instead places Mike Thompson’s versatile keyboards as the foundation, supplemented at times by the Tosca Strings and even an electric sitar (complements of Charlie Sexton), to create his most musically diverse offering. While the 1960s influence may be unconscious, the weight of most diverse and prolific decade in American popular music is inescapable, in both tone and texture.

Early psychedelia permeates, felt most heavily in “Exiled”, due to Thompson’s Farsisa organ, and Dony Wynn’s drums as the twisted undulating pulse. The Tex Mex rhythm and organ of “Moscow Girl” are a loving nod to another criminally under-appreciated Texan, Doug Sahm, yet it’s doo-wop inspired vocal improvisations, followed by a fiddle solo recall two other mid-century influences. Few others would dare such a wild blend, but so seamless is the mixture that it only appears strange on paper.

The 60s, and their ultimate failure to enact the utopian hopes and promises, are referenced directly in “Recipe for Disaster”, but what the listener takes away is not the disappointment in what did not happen, but rather an appreciation for all that did occur. While the aftermath is “a world burning faster, making the same old mistakes”, the major chords pounded out on piano suggest that there should be no regrets for trying. In the same vein, “Lost in a Day”, it’s triumphant string swells reminiscent of Phil Spector’s Righteous Brothers work, and the album’s closer, “No More Runnin", celebrate the release at the end of a long ordeal. Despite the world being as bruised and battered as the rest of the record may indicate, Carter nonetheless encourages an appreciation of the fleeting present moment.

While no stranger to failed love songs (the quintessential “Richest Man” is his most recorded tune), time and maturity are the prevailing elements to “Last Tear (Delaney’s Song)”. A cathartic post-love song (though never inherently suggesting romantic love) dealing with what remains in a relationship after the love has expired, Carter’s elegant simplicity pierces through the conflicted, stammering pain of parting. A universal emotion, yet it took a voice as distinct as this to put it to song.

The playfully absurd “Bughouse In Pasadena” is quintessential Carter wordsmithing, while “Fisherman’s Daughter” and “Sooner or Later” are the “funky country blues” fans have come to expect from live shows, dripping with the same sexy sleaze that coats 1970s Rolling Stones albums. “Black Lion”, too, has the svelte, sultry slink of The Stones, but in an shadowy, menacing way. “Solar Powered Radio” is a peak into a magic, alluring world, while highlighting the general malaise of the current times.

If there is one song that captures the essence of Carter as songwriter, however, it is “Missing Guru”. A true story pulled from the newspapers, it is the dark and sinister story of a fugitive “lowdown sneaky freaky swami”. While no other songwriter would attempt to touch such subject matter, never mind have to verbal prowess to manipulate such phrasing to music, Carter dives in, chronicling a through, complex situation that is as rich in imagery and texture as any song could hope to be. From the journey’s start in Texas, to Far East mountaintops and filthy dark holes reserved for those who commit such atrocities, the bone chilling lyrics unveil the disturbing plot as Carter’s vocal inflections scorn those guilty by non-action. Yet the writhing, provocative sitar hook and hypnotic rhythm suggest the lure and mystique of the perpetrator, affecting somewhat of an unconscious understanding how such charismatic leaders are able to seduce their followers.

As sonically diverse as the airwaves of the 1960s, Innocent Victims succeeds in creating an atmosphere that allows its artist to flex his muscles in new aural directions. The snaggle-toothed boy on the cover hints at the wry, slightly twisted lyricism all of Carter’s compositions are seeped in, but the songs contained within suggest an equally musical mind, with an ear tuned to both Brian Wilson and Warren Zevon.

-Stu Gilbert

Diggin' on Dylan

Available at:

Artist's site

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As most Bob Dylan fans know only too well, there are a lot of Dylan covers out there! Too many, some might say. Everyone has done Dylan. This is far from coincidental; his immense body of work has managed not only to stay current and relatable for more than half a century, but has earned him fans in nearly every demographic sociologists can invent. There really is something there for everyone.

So, it’s only natural that other musicians want to record and perform his songs. Yet, the very thing that makes Dylan so great, so unique, so able to express the ineffable is the thing that winds up destroying most other artists’ renditions. Very few have the talent or perspective needed to access what lies at the very center of the song. For every Jimi Hendrix, there are 10 (or more) bargain bin throwaways. At best, forgotten, at worst, well, let us not go down that dark path. Dylan fans have been subjected to a lot.

So, when I say to you that, on Oct. 16th, a new album of Bob Dylan songs hits shelves, sites, and iTunes, you’re probably not at the edge of your seat w/ anticipation. I don’t blame you.

Pick it up though. Download it from iTunes. Hit “add to cart.” However you buy music, give this one a shot. Trust me, it deserves a place in your collection. W/ any luck, it will be sitting on the same shelf as the rest of your Dylan records before you know it.

From the start, there are a few things that set this record apart from the myriad of mediocre attempts. First, it’s completely instrumental. Dylan songs. W/o lyrics. What, on paper, might seem like taking a blind man to a Picasso exhibit, is actually one of the collection’s best attributes. Secondly, it was conceived and released by Denny Freeman, a five-year veteran of Dylan’s touring band. Out of all the musicians working today, Dylan personally selected Freeman to play his songs night after night, year after year, around the world. That would not have happened unless he was confident Freeman understood more about the songs than just the chord progressions.

Sounds a bit more interesting now, doesn’t it?

When Freeman first told me about this project a couple of years ago, I honestly didn’t know what to think about it. On the one hand, it was probably THE single greatest idea I could fathom... in my world, at least. It included, quite literally, every reason I had followed Bob Dylan on tour across the country several times over, while simultaneously excluding everything about those travels that can wear on a person. Things like waking up early after 3 hours of sleep in order to get a decent seat for a show, only to have the website crash 48 seconds before they went on sale. Or spending an entire day outside in extremity-numbing, sub-zero sleet. Or 110 degree rubber-melting heat. The sleep deprivation, the diet of truck stop coffee, the strange film coating the steering wheel and the stiffness in your lower back that just wont go away. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade those experiences for anything, but not having to do that, and still hearing Freeman’s guitar weave through songs like Tangled Up In Blue is about as close to heaven as I could get while still breathing.

But, on the other hand, I had some serious doubts about whether this was the right choice. Not that Freeman couldn’t pull it off, (anyone who has ever heard him pick up a guitar knows that is never the case) but something like this could potentially open the floodgates to those who feel they need to pester Freeman about what kind of cornflakes Dylan likes, or what such-and-such a song really means, or how to correctly interpret a glance during  a performance 6 years ago.

And, perhaps more significantly, a record like this threatens to permanently cement the qualifier “Bob Dylan’s guitarist” to Freeman’s name. Certainly, it is a tremendous honor to be asked to play in Bob Dylan’s band, and an accomplishment to be extremely proud of.

But as a musician, he is so much more than that. The four previous records out under his own name, the two w/ seminal Austin band The Cobras, and the countless appearances on other’s albums, in nearly every genre, are the beginning, middle, and end argument of how a guitar should be played. (Who else appears on records by Bob Dylan, Taj Mahal, James Cotton, Percy Sledge and Ron Rogers?) His style proves difficult to accurately describe, but impossible to forget if you are paying any attention. His tone, phrasing, and melodic instinct are impeccable, making him equally impressive playing like Chuck Berry or Kenny Burrell.

Never one to be content w/ where he’s at, his playing is always shifting, evolving, growing. Onstage, his focus is locked in, never taking his mind away from the guitar; if you didn’t catch the way he played that chord the first time, too bad, because he’ll be playing it a different way next verse. The old adage of never playing a song the same way twice was probably first spoken w/ him in mind. He is always fully engaged; the most standard 12 bar blues is never standard when Freeman is around.

So to only associate him w/ playing Rainy Day Woman and Tweedle Dee every night is a shame indeed. Then I heard it, and I knew: this record has to be released! It’s just too good for people not to hear these songs.

When asked why I was going through all the aforementioned trials and tribulations just to see a guitar player, instead of gushing out the previous paragraphs,  I would answer that Freeman was to the guitar as Dylan was to words. Both manage, using his instrument, to cut away all the excess of his craft and access the pure emotion at the center. Since it is generally acknowledged that writing about music is sort of futile, I hope that listening to this record will help folks understand what I meant. 

As diverse as his songs are the sidemen Dylan has used over the years. By now, every fan has their favorite, and this record does not claim or attempt to change or challenge any of that. However, those who were not particularly blown away by Freeman’s performance behind Dylan might be especially interested in this collection. After all, it is a different situation exploring the songs on your own, as opposed to being under the employ of someone else.

Taste is subjective; not everyone is going to love this record the way I do, and that’s not the point anyway. But it will raise people’s appreciation of Freeman’s musical abilities, in particular, his use of melody. It will probably take two listens; the first time you might be too busy singing along. 

The collection spans nearly Dylan’s entire recording career, from 1963’s The Freewheelin’, to 2006’s Modern Times, the only (other) Dylan record to feature Freeman’s guitar. Several songs build on their original versions; the darkness of Senor and Gotta Serve Somebody, and the catharsis of Knockin On Heaven’s Door are amplified, whereas almost entirely new spins are given to Don’t Think Twice and Dignity. Blowin In The Wind, arguably Dylan’s most famous song, is unlike anything Freeman has previously released.

Even those who love dissecting each element of Dylan’s songs can find things to discuss. For example, is the march behind opener Times They are A Changin still the youthful call to arms the lyrics suggest, or a look back through different eyes now that we stand on the other side of that change? If you can pose questions w/ an album of instrumentals, you’re doing pretty good.

While most of the instrumentation is Freeman’s (yes, that’s even him on harp), he receives help, alternately, from Jon Blondell or Jim Milan on bass, and Barry ‘Frosty’ Smith or Michael J. Dohoney on drums. Fellow Dylan band alum Elana James joins in on fiddle on select tracks, proving once again that Dylan has impeccable tastes when it comes to selecting supporting musicians.

This is a record of covers in name only. Unlike other artists who either didn’t understand or didn’t care about the original, Freeman treats each song w/ respect, and serves them justly. Much the same way Dylan took old folk songs and sang them so convincingly as to make them his, so to does Freeman interpret Dylan’s songs in such a way that they become his (Hendrix again comes to mind). This album and Dylan’s canon are NOT mutually exclusive. Each serves to expand the listener’s appreciation of the other.

So even if driving 4 hours in a car w/ no A/C or cruise control through Missouri, at 1.30 am, in the middle of August is not your thing, you can still hear one of the most unique guitarists’ take on some of the best American songs of the past 50 years. It’s more than worth it.

Tempest = Bootleg Series Vol 10?

To be honest, I never thought I would be listening to this record this early; certainly not BEFORE it’s official release. I was not explicitly seeking to avoid it, but since stumbling into the news back in January that it was being recorded, its progress reports have floated in and out of my life w/ less than no bearing. I can’t think of an instance where the phrase “couldn’t care less” fits better. I don’t say all that to put anyone down, only to illustrate my complete indifference. I figured I’d find it a few years down the road in the used bin, and take it home out of curiosity.

Then that atrocious single, Early Roman Kings, found it’s way into my inbox. NOW I more or less WAS actively avoiding the record. That song is quintessential example of how to play blues POORLY; the reason that riff works on so many old blues records is because things are happening!!!!! The musicians are allowed to PLAY, there’s an excitement, energy, a spirit in the air that is so close to being tangible that it can’t help but come through in the playing. The music is ALIVE!!!! Pardon the pun, but this track is as dead as those early roman kings. (groan, I know)

 It’s also about twice as long as it should be. Unfortunately, I am not exaggerating; I could not make it through the track in one sitting. I had to stop it about halfway through, go do something, anything else for about 10 minutes, then come back and resume it. As it turns out, the second half IS just a boring as the first. It seems Dylan forgot that those old blues recordings had to fit on 45s, and are 2-3 minutes long. And they’re lively! Please, leave us wanting more, not taking 15 minutes to struggle though one single.

 So, expecting the rest of the record to sound very much the same, I figured I was all set on this one for a very long time. Then a link to the whole thing showed up, and w/ the curiosity of someone who’s stumbled upon what they believe will be a gruesome train wreck, I inched forward.....

 And I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised for a lot of it. Duquesne Whistle (Toucan Whistle, it sounds like) is actually a very tight, beautiful song when the bizarre visuals of the video are removed. I really liked what each instrument was doing, (great guitar tone, great brush recording) really liked the whole final product, and, actually, really liked the lyrics and the color of the vocals. And, it was the perfect length, which, looking back now, is a bit of a miracle.

  Hmm, that wasn’t horrible at all! If this sets the tone, this record is gonna be good!
And, just like that, Soon After Midnight appears, ushered in on a beautiful tried and true progression that makes the cut sound like it was pulled right out of the 50s. I personally love that stuff, but the wider effect gives the song a familiar feel, you’ve heard it all your life, it’s always been there, in the back of your conscious somewhere. While some of the lyrics make me roll my eyes, overall, they kept w/ the mid-century feel, while also never losing sight of the smirking darkness that is Dylan. My only complaint w/ this one is that it is too short, unbearably short, almost.

 So, two tracks in, just when I’m starting to really like the record, along comes Narrow Way and tramples my newly raised expectations. I’m sorry, I tried to be a good critic, but I cannot make it through this thing in its entirety, for the same reasons it took two goes at Kings; too long, too stale. The lyrics are negligible, the delivery rushed, the band is kept on too tight a leash and made to repeat an uninteresting phrase w/ little variation. So, of course, I have the horrible feeling that this is going to get played ad naseaum in future shows. It sounds a lot like an outtake from the TTL record, which isn’t really a compliment.

 Doing what Jack Frost should have, and cutting Narrow Way short, I now find myself at Long and Wasted Years, which gives me the idea for this record’s motif; that is to say, it sounds more like a Bootleg Series release than a album of similar material. The soundscape of this one certainly seems to recall TOOM sessions (or era, perhaps more aptly), which IS a compliment. Especially in the verse, as the instrumentals seem to grow more powerful as the lyrics (finally) arrive on a direction. Before that, however, it is mighty apparent that this is a sketch of a song; the lyrics seem to wander aimlessly in every direction. They have something to say, but they’re not sure how to go about doing it yet, and each of the other aspects are still feeling their way along. Don’t get me wrong, I actually enjoy this song, as I like many of the unreleased, underdeveloped, exploratory songs that make their appearance years later on BS releases. But ultimately, that’s how it should have been presented, as a song in development. Something for the scholars and fans to enjoy and dissect, and compare to the superior, finished version. This song, unfortunately, is still a work in progress.

 Pay In Blood, despite the title, is quite inoffensive/unremarkable. Not good, but not too bad either. Unbelievably average, it no doubt will entrench itself in live setlists for years to come as well. Soundwise, its not too terribly related to the TTL songs, but in overall forgetability, it ranks right among most of them.

 After just one listen, Scarlet Town is tied w/ Midnight for personal favorite. At first, I wasn’t really sure of it. It seemed like both the lyrics and the melody were trying too hard to force the listener into uneasiness; like dragging someone into a haunted house but forgetting to turn the lights off. However, as the song continued, the eeriness closed in, completely naturally. I cant put my finger on why it suddenly works, but at some point, it just does! And it’s good. For me, its not quite the all out unsettling feeling you get listening to Man In The Long Black Coat, but more akin to seeing Aint Talkin on a night when the 05-09 band was really on, really in tune w/ each other; ineffable. Sadness, pain, alienation, disassociation. You’re an outsider in a place where it’s a bit dangerous to be an outsider.

 But by far, the most unusual song on the record is Tin Angel. Even before a word is ever uttered, you hear this comically annoying oompa loompa beat, which is joined by an oompa loompa melody, and an oompa loompa cadence. That you’re actually being told this twisted parable further emphasizes this dark cartoon-scape. Originally I saw a Snidley Whiplash style of villain slinking scene to scene, but as the song went on, it became increasingly easier to see the character as someone who’s facial expressions and demeanor inexplicably resemble Romney’s.... Anyway, I listened w/ a permanent halfsmile, as I tried to figure out whether this was really cool, or just too weird. I still don’t know. One thing I do know, it is TOO long. This type of thing can be supported for about 6 min, maybe, this probably could have held 6 minutes, but who knows, because it drags on past the 9 minute mark. Again, know when to end.

 This song is the most religious, but there is a weird religious tone that runs deep throughout the whole thing. Though, to someone w/ admittedly almost no biblical knowledge, it seems to draw on a Faustian, Ichebod Crane type of mythology, rather then biblical fables.

 The title track is DEFINITELY something that should have ONLY seen the light of day on a Bootleg Series release. This is a truly epic undertaking, in all sense of the word, and is about as big a disaster as the one it describes. Think Joey, Lenny Bruce, Brownsville Girl, etc. Now, imagine them longer, more rambling, more boring. I know some fans claim they could listen to Dylan read the phonebook. Well, folks, this is not far from it. First, the source material is widely available for us to access ourselves. Second, this song offers NO new or unique insight to what is taking place. He basically just tells us what happens onscreen. Musically, its very similar to Cross The Green Mountain. However, in that one, the music helps us empathize w/ the soldiers. Here, the lyrics are so cold and matter of fact, I really don’t care a bit for anyone involved. Just sink already, so this song will end!!! I pray that this only took one take, because anything more constitutes torture for the musicians. As far as I can tell, I don’t really see a redeeming quality of this song, other than being used to get rid of people who’ve overstayed their welcome at a party.

 The final song, I’m sad to say, I also found to be a drag. I’m not a big Lennon fan, at all, but I was interested to hear this. Unfortunately, straight tribute songs are not Dylan’s strong suite. Again, think of Lenny Bruce. This one is just as awkward; musically, lyrically, everything. Had it not been the last track, I would have issued it no more thought, however, I do find its placement a tad interesting to think about.

 So much has been made over the fact that it’s called Tempest, he’s 71, he’s lived a, erm, full life.... it does seem logical to contemplate the ramifications should this be his last record. Now, I am not saying that I know (or even care) what he was thinking about, or what he had in mind while writing or making this record. In some sense, that doesn’t even matter, seeing how artists’ intentions and public interpretations/reactions to the art after it is unveiled can be completely independent of each other.

 So, if this is, in fact, the last song on the last record, it could easily be read as a farewell, not just to a friend lost years ago, but also to the impending loss of his own life. It seems natural for humanity to contemplate that. How do you say goodbye to yourself? How do you want to be sent off?

 (Thankfully) the only part of the song that sticks w/ me, is the oft-repeated chorus:
Shine a light/ Move it on/ You burned so bright/ Roll on, John

 It doesn’t matter what Dylan was or was not thinking when he wrote that. It doesn’t matter if he makes 15 more records and lives for 30 more years, I read that line as a older man, seeing more in the rearview mirror than on the horizon, and accepting that.

 Roll on, Bob.


 Only time will tell how this record fares in Dylan’s canon. Me though? I’m glad I opened it up. There are some really good little songs in there.

Just like the Good Ol' Days! (New Braunfels, 7/24)

The summer of 09 was a record breaking summer for Texas. It was hot, it was dry, it was miserable. It was my first summer living here, and my last tour for BD shows. I did 5 outdoor shows in the state (6 in all that tour, 7 if AZ hadn’t have been cancelled) in August. How I survived, I still don’t know.

This summer is set to break the record set by the summer of 09. It is even hotter, drier and more miserable. Being the sadist that I am, this has only caused me to look back fondly on all the time spent in direct August sunlight that year, and, inexplicably, I found myself longing to be coated in sweat, sunscreen and dirt once again. The absurdity of willingly putting yourself through the exhaustion, dehydration and sleep deprivation of a summer tour was calling my name once again, and luckily, I was given an outlet; [i]another[/i] outdoor show in late July/early August in a record TX heat wave. One more, for old time’s sake!

And so, this past week, I must admit, my excitement was growing. Obviously the music after the wait would be different then the summer of 09, and my last couple of outings with this band had left me less than bowled over, but I was really thrilled at getting an excuse to see Tony again :D Beyond Tony, however, I did have my reservations. I had heard reports the Asian shows this year were terrible. The one or two songs I’d downloaded over the past 2 years seemed to be getting progressively worse. The few videos I’d managed to sit through on youtube made me cringe. Sure, BD was prancing around on stage more, but the quality of the music just wasn’t there (in those videos), and I don’t go to shows to see BD wander the stage. Not to mention his voice, which was downright awful. Do I really want to do this?

Here, I must give credit where credit is due, and thank Lily Rose and friend for their generous and much appreciated offer of a ticket. The logical side of by brain kept chiming in, telling me not to do it. Their offer came at just the right time, and helped to silence that annoying logic and stock up on ice and water bottles.

Surprisingly, absolutely NONE of the touring regulars were in line when my friends and I showed up that morning. A handful of veterans would straggle in throughout the day, but the masses really didn’t start showing up until much later in the afternoon. It was quite possibly the easiest wait I’ve ever had; there was ample shade just around the corner and we all took turns enjoying it.

Of course, no GA show is complete w/o the doors opening stress, which will probably be found to have taken several years off all of our lives. To make a long and boring story very short, for one reason or another everyone except me was held up for various reasons. I instinctively made a bolt for the rail, and hit it at least 80 seconds, maybe more, which not only allowed me to get THE BEST spot, but also turn around and watch the stampede, something I’ve always wanted to do. (Why the crew isn’t out on the stage watching and betting on us is something I’ve never understood.) For me, it was great, I got to both participate in and observe the mad dash, but I got exactly where I wanted to be, but I do truly sympathize w/ everyone who was held up, because I know how stressful that is.

It all worked out in the end though. The stage was tiny and low, the rail was close. It would be hard to get a bad spot (unless you were at the [i]very[/i] end), and the opening act was no slouch. I’ll spare you the history lesson, but Leon Russell played a large role in the Armadillo World HeadQuarters/Cosmic Cowboy scene, which was very important in the development of Austin as a “music town” in the early 1970s. While I am certainly not a fan of a lot of that music, I wasn’t complaining about getting to see him either. He definitely did not disappoint. Perhaps the first opener in the history of the world who understood the meaning of opener and did not play too long, he and his band played an incredibly tight 50 or so minute set and promptly made way. Obviously, no one runs to the rails expecting a great mix, and this certainly wasn’t that. As I discovered, I was parked in front of a speaker that was ONLY vocals. Fine for Russell, worrisome for Dylan. As a result, I could hear little else, and especially when he was singing, I could not hear his piano. Or his lead guitar player, for that matter, which was a real drag, as what I could hear from the guy was very tastefully done. The lights were also a HUGE problem; the back lights were positioned at just the right height to where the front row was looking DIRECTLY into them. Literally every face on the rail kept their sunglasses on long after the sun had set.

During the most efficient set change I’ve ever seen, the conversation quickly oriented around the predicted opener. Rainy Day Woman was mine, for the simple reason that (frustratingly) they ALWAYS open Colorado and Austin area shows, local shows for me, w/ it. Unfortunately, tonight was no exception.

However, when the lights dimmed and the boys stepped out as the introductory speech was made (sans ANY intro music), I was amazed to hear Dylan! Singing! I could not believe it! Granted, singing is relative, but this was almost better (certainly not worse) than the voice I’d left two years ago. It was MUCH better then the Backyard last year. The growl was there, which is a good thing, but the phlemy gargle was gone, same w/ the pneumonic bark. I was amazed. Suddenly, being in front of the vocal speaker was no detriment. It was as clear as I remembered it from countless shows before.

Tony was on his new Warwick 5 string, and it hit me that this was the first time I’d seen him play a 5 string in person. It sounded great; it had a really rich low end that was surprisingly not that deep. I’d have liked to listen to it more, but the bad sound at the rails had other plans. I could hear Stu probably the best out of anyone, I think simply because his amp was the closest to my ears. On RDW, he was playing a new (again, I’m out of the loop, ‘new’ henceforth should be read as new to me) Gibson 335, a guitar that unfortunately only made an appearance on one other song that night.

Don’t Think Twice was a favorite during the 09 summer tour, thanks in no small part to Stu, but his role, all night, has been so far reduced from two years ago, it is a real shame. Instead of picking notes, he’s been reduced to simply strumming the chords. OK fine, but if I had a nickel for every time I praised his picking in one of these things, I’d have a few extra zeros at the end of my bank account. I don’t go to these shows anymore expecting what was, because that will never happen, but when this song failed to do anything for me, when it used to do so much, I settled in for a night of mediocrity. BD had made it out front to his “crooner” mic, and kept shaking his leg as if his boxers were riding up (and his dancing only got weirder and more twitchy all night), which makes a lot of the crowd pretty happy, but again, I didn’t come to see an old guy amble around.

Along comes Things Have Changed though, and totally knocked me on my ass. [i]Anything[/i] but mediocre, this new arrangement has the coolest Tex-Mex/border feel to it! Easily the highlight of the night, my only complaint is that it ended entirely too soon. I could have listened to it for several more minutes, and the band easily could have carried it that long, they really seemed to hit their groove here.

Unfortunately, Tangled and Summer Days fell flat on their faces, bandwise. I could barely hear Charlie all night, which was a drag, because, believe it or not, he is a great guitarist and I really enjoy listening to him. That white hollowbody was especially hard to hear, but even so, he did absolutely NOTHING w/ Summer Days. It wasn’t his fault, but it was disappointing. The best part about that song, actually, was Stu’s fills, but it took him ‘til the 3rd or 4th verse to even start doing that. Tangled’s main problem wasn’t actually a problem, because Dylan-wise, it was great. Not only has his voice gotten better, but his harp playing is back too! So, naturally, he’s going to play harp, which, believe me, was fine, and it was soooo much better than when he was just blowing to make noise, but now guitar solos have been replaced w/ harp solos. :? Whatever, I guess it’s his band, but…..

I was about to bemoan that my first Sugar Baby came 2 and a half years too late, when suddenly, I heard a sound I’d never heard before. Was it Stu? Was it Charlie? No, it was Donnie! Someone must have slipped up, and accidentally raised the pedal steel’s volume to an audible level, because once he moved back to lap steel (and electrico mandolin), he was again silent, but it was so welcomed to hear him, especially on this one, it really made the song for me. (His fiddle was also audible for the last song. Hey, some Donnie is better than no Donnie.)

Cold Irons was just great, a real rocker that fit both Charlie and Stu to a T, but only Charlie was allowed to do anything w/ it. The possibilities of a band w/ those two guitarists, on a song like that, were palpable, but yet they never came to fruition. It was here that I first got the idea, confirmed by the rest of the night, that it isn’t even “Bob Dylan and His Band,” anymore but Bob Dylan and his [i]Backing[/i] Band. There [i]is[/i] a difference. There’s no doubt that that’s what he’s been after, for some time now, but it seems like it’s only lately that he/they have finally figured out a way to get it.

And they’ve got it. They are definitely tight, and they are definitely delivering. That is also a compliment to Dylan himself, since he has to step up and deliver in both the vocal and the harp department, and he certainly is. Especially given my rock bottom expectations walking in, I was extremely impressed. Also, I think they have finally adjusted to the lineup change. Charlie and Denny, while both excellent guitarists, have two very different styles, and in order to make the song fit the player (and visa versa) sometimes very subtle changes are needed. In the middle I started to feel it, but by the end I was sure, that they have finally dialed the songs into Charlie’s style. He fits them and they fit him.

Case in point was Tryin’, another highlight of the night, surprisingly so. It was [i]always[/i] a favorite when I was seeing shows, always. Always sublime. And just the way Cold Irons is tailor made for Charlie style, Trying was tailor made for Denny’s style. But Charlie took the song tonight and gave it exactly what it needed. It was a different song, but it was still sublime, for different reasons.

Highway 61 as well. Not in the sublime favorite sense, the band has finally molded the song around Charlie’s playing, and it was definitely the best one I’ve seen since he’s been back. Stu was even allowed lead on it, and again, I only felt slighted because he and Charlie were not allowed to play [i]together[/i] on it, rather, they were one on, one off.

It was during this song that I realized Dylan hadn’t played guitar yet. For fear of jinxing that, I didn’t say anything, but apparently thinking it was enough, because right afterwards, I see him dropping it over his shoulder in the dark.

Great. :?

Its Simple Twist of Fate.

Oh no. :shock:

Why?!?! WHY?!?!?!?!?! Anything but that! He’s going to muck up a great song!!!!!! I start watching what he’s doing, mainly as an example of what [i]not[/i] to do, when I realized, not only did it sound OK, it was actually pretty interesting what he was doing. Would I rather have heard Stu or Charlie? Probably, but I didn’t [i]not[/i] want to hear Dylan, which is usually the case when he picks up the guitar. He absolutely didn’t mess up the song by playing, his singing didn’t suffer at all, and it was actually a really sweet, tender version. Highlight number 3, and I actually watched him the whole time. I don’t think I’ve ever done that, ever.

Thunder I just really didn’t like. Charlie’s intro made it sound like the Masked & Anonymous version of Cold Iron Bounds, and I’m certainly not faulting the guy for making it his own, which he did, but it didn’t do anything for me, at all. I felt towards it the way I usually feel/felt towards LARS, cold indifference at best.

Then there was Ballad, dark and menacing as ever, brought to you, as always, by Stu’s tele attack. No complaints, great, powerful song, excellent delivery, just a solid performance, Dylan as [i]twitchy[/i] as ever at the center stage mic.

The encores were incredible! And when do you ever get to say that?! As previously mentioned, LARS has always been the blah song for me, I’ve really never liked hearing it live, but Charlie couldn’t have been better if he tried tonight. It was so perfect, so Charlie. Of course, I wish Dylan’d let him (and all his guys) have more of a leash, but it was really, really great. For the first time in my life, LARS makes the top 5 at a show. Watchtower FINALLY has a bit of a new delivery, which was sorely needed, and should have come no later than the lineup change. More on the rock aspects of the delivery than the blues aspects, it’s another one that is built on Stu’s solid foundation. Again, having been so far removed from the BD tour culture for so long, I don’t know exactly how new of a delivery that actually is, but it was certainly a breath of fresh air for me, and what a solid performance, on all accounts.

A guy who is doing more shows than I am had mentioned before the show started that they had started doing a 2nd encore occasionally, “if the audience deserves it,” there was no doubt in my mind that, judging from the amount of shimmying and boogieing Dylan was doing, that we were going to get a 2nd encore, and lo and behold, Stu had just barely made it offstage before they were filing back on! As I mentioned earlier, Donnie’s fiddle could be heard (a bit too loudly, to be honest) for Blowin, and it was again a great example of the backing band concept, but again, Dylan himself did not disappoint, nor falter in his role. Tony switched to his Ric bass for the encore and 2nd encore songs, but what was really amazing, and another Tony first for me (I think, unless I’m forgetting/was watching Denny on some number), is that he used a pick on both LARS and Blowin. Either way, it’s the first time I’m remembering seeing him pick, which was cool just for the variety.

All last night, and even today, I can’t get over what a great show it was. I certainly could have done w/ more chances for the musicians themselves to shine, but that’s me, and that was my only complaint. (Well, that and the numbskull who keeps scheduling outdoor shows in TX in the dead of summer. Not just for the fans waiting in line in the daytime; it stays hot well into the night. Tony looked on the verge of passing out a few times.) This was above and beyond the best show I’ve seen since Charlie returned, and I’m tempted to include the Round Rock show where he sat in in w/ that. It was a great commemoration of all the touring I’d been remembering so fondly recently, and really, after the experience last night, it’s almost enough to get me to start touring again. Almost.


(BZ is currently accepting donations of ticket and transportation ;) )

The BD Experience

A friend referred me to a guy who's looking for BD fan recollections. http://www.mybobdylanstory.com/bobs-younger-fans.html

Since BD wasnt exactly the prime reason for my travels, I held off sending him anything, but ultimately wrote this, because I wanted to pay tribute/give credit to those that don’t often get heralded when discussing Bob Dylan the aura/legend/mythos/etc….. the members of his band. They're ignored, perhaps mistreated and/or pestered by most of the fans who think that BD is some sort of deity, and I wanted people to know that there are at least *some* people out there who appreciate them, even one who went specifically to see them.

I'm 22, from Colorado, more or less.

Like a lot of other younger people, I got sick of the current musical offerings one day, and out of the blue, took a gamble and bought the No Direction Home soundtrack w/ some high school graduation money. Instantly, I was hooked. I used the rest of that graduation money to buy every other BD album w/i an hour’s drive of my small, rural town. Spend all summer absorbing all I could about the man, the music, the writings, everything. He was delivering to me the way I always felt about life, to quote BD himself, and I just dug the whole mythology, and I connected in some way w/ (what I thought) he was trying to get at, even if it wasn’t something you could explain in prose.

I absolutely HAD to see him live.

That summer, 2006, his tour came nowhere near where I was living, and being 17, my parents wouldn’t allow me to go to him. But by the fall, I’d hit that magical 18 and was away at college, and lo and behold, the Dylan tour was making a stop! I never ditched one class my entire school career before; the first class I ever cut was my 10 am Intro to Film class the day tickets went on sale for my first BD show. Oh, what a slippery slope!

Ironically, I didn’t cut any classes the day of the show, but arrived early enough for a very long wait. By this time, I’d dabbled in guitar, but was starting to get bored w/ it, and always found myself drawn to the bass anyway. As truly excited as I was to see Bob Dylan, I was actually really looking forward to finally seeing Tony Garnier as well!

I walked in that night excited to share the same physical space as Bob Dylan. I walked out honored to have breathed the same air as Denny Freeman, a guitar player who’s name I’d only seen mentioned on the Dylan message boards.

Wow!

I wanted to play guitar like THAT!!! It wasn’t overbearing, shred-a-minute, clichéd “rock star” guitar, it was just exactly what the song needed. It wasn’t about making Freeman look good, it was about what would make the song sound that much better, it was….. perfect, for lack of a better term. I don’t know how to describe it, but THAT was what a guitar was meant to sound like, THAT was how a guitar was meant to be played! I HAD to find out more about this guy! A broken collarbone soon after afforded me the time to go back and download many audience recordings of previous shows w/ Denny in the band. The more I heard, the more I liked this guy.

That was the last time I was ever bored w/ the guitar, I can tell you that much……
***

And so, from a month after I turned 18 to a month before I turned 21 (formative years, at least according to American popular culture), I followed the Bob Dylan tour around the country. Not every show, of course, I’m not rich, but a sizeable chunk of shows in nearly every state, certainly every time zone. I met nearly every type of fan, from some of the absolute nicest people on Earth who’d give you their last penny, straight through to some people I’d rather not mention. I personally put over 100,000 miles on my (new-ish) car.

But I saw the country! I experienced SO much that ordinarily would have passed me by; why else would I ever have reason to be in Kalamazoo MI, outdoors for hours on a dreary, bitter cold November day? Or spend a soggy August day melting on the downtown sidewalks of Kansas City MO, only to stampede w/ thousands of other bodies across an empty ballroom floor (w/ all the booby traps and pitfalls that is known to entail)?

The tour allowed me to absorb both the flavor of the different areas and cities of the country, and at once the ever-changing flight of a life lived in transit. I loved every minute of it, from Point A to Point B and the location In Between, which often gets overlooked. Just as treasured as the locally based memories are the ones that exist in generalities only. Just as vivid as the conversations in the shade of the venue in KCMO are the memories of the Kansas cornfield flashing past my headlights at 3 am, the previous show’s sweat still clinging to my forehead as the sticky night air whistles in the window, forcing me to turn up “Nettie Moore,” which has been on repeat for a good 6 or 7 cycles now. I reach down for the only cold liquid in the car, a Dr Pepper purchased some miles down the road at a dimly lit backwoods convenience store, as a particularly juicy June Bug explodes against the windshield ……. Looking back, thinking, summarizing, it has a certain charm about it, a mid-century wild, ineffable looseness, a freedom that isn’t supposed to exist anymore, a mindset certainly not shared by many who share my birth year.

(Oh, and there was college in there, somewhere. Managed a double degree, w/ honors, so must have put some efforts in that direction, somewhere, I think….)

While this touring mentality certainly is not unique to me, and I certainly met many likeminded travelers, what are unique to me were my motives. While the other fans were busy talking about the meaning behind a particular gesture on a particular line at a previous concert or whether or not any given part of the Dylan mythos was fact or fiction, I was rattling off, to anyone who would listen, the highs and the lows of the music, in particular, Freeman’s guitar work. In the aforementioned stampede, I had the distinct advantage of not wanting to be as close to Dylan as possible; rather, I wanted to be in front of Denny, I wanted to see his fingers on the fret board and hopefully unlock some key to his playing, some small secret. While everyone charged to the right, I broke left, usually uninhibited, and secured a prime space for listening, watching, learning.

I was there for the band, plain and simple.

Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoyed Dylan and I still do. But I am not a singer, not a lyricist; there was nothing to be learned from observing him. But from Denny?! There was (and still is) so much to take from his playing; I know I’ll never get it all down!
***

The fall 2009 tour brought a line-up change that saw Freeman leave the band, and, for my own personal reasons, I decided to quit the cross country touring. I still loved seeing Tony and the rest of the fellas in the band, I absolutely loved the absurd, out of the way places the tour would take me, and as I stated, I do dig Dylan’s songs, that never changed, but for a variety of reasons I found that the “scene,” if you will, had changed, and I no longer had the time or the energy to deal w/ certain aspects.

But those few short, whirlwind years forever changed my life, in ways I may never fully comprehend. Before the tour, I had always planned to live in New York, to lead the charge of a 2nd American New Wave in film. Now? I can never live anywhere but Austin, TX, and the guitar is now a bigger part of my life than I ever dreamed possible. Certainly, much of this is due to the impact of Freeman’s playing, rather than Bob Dylan himself.

But just as certainly, I would have never been in the position to be exposed to Freeman if it weren’t for Bob Dylan. Bob Dylan ruined my life, and, right now, I can’t thank him enough.

Just When I Thought I Was Out... (Austin 8/4)

Or, A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Backyard...



Having last seen this band in October, w/ less then exciting results, I assumed I’d exercised my demons and was released from the grip of the beast. So, when I was bombarded by emails and texts when this show was announced, I didn’t really feel any strong pull to go. In fact, I was actually a little happy NOT to be going. Having only listened to the Tony Garnier Hall tape, I knew that that first tour last fall was obviously not the height this band could reach, but the thought of paying money, to wait all day in late summer TX heat, to see (what I considered to be) the shell of some of the funnest times in my life was not exactly something that made me squeal w/ glee. Plus, I am living in Austin, where seeing good music isnt a problem

But after running into and chatting w/ the guys around town all week, I realized just how much I have really missed seeing the band (especially Tony!). I never stopped liking any of them (this goes for Dylan as well), so when a ticket dropped from the sky w/ my name on it, I figured I may as well use it, since it could be another long while before I see Tony or Stu again. It was 3.46 am Wed morning.

My mind, long out of touring shape, tries to pull together a crude list of GA essentials, none of which I seem to have anymore. I got far less sleep then I would have liked to, but still timed it so I would make it to the venue later then I’d ever gotten to a GA line before. I didn’t want to be first, and I certainly wanted to minimize time spent in a forecasted 105 (mercury reading) day. I did show up later then ever before….and I was first (ugh!)……. by at least an hour and a half Great.

For those of you unfamiliar w/ the venue, it moved from its original location (where BD played in the past) to up the road a few miles. Its hosted 2 or 3 shows at its new location, the most famous being Willie’s 4th of July Picnic this year, where they managed to run out of food, water and bathrooms early on, and it was a 2 hour wait to get to your car. To say the place is still working out the kinks is an understatement. But this ended up working to our advantage in many ways, the coolest of which being we got to watch soundcheck. Obviously we weren’t in the park for it, but there were more then a few holes in the fence/gate, and the stage was RIGHT in front of us. The first recognizable song was Cry A While, which only reminded me they very rarely play the songs they check Next was Absolutely Sweet Marie, followed by a VERY cool Cant Wait. Not a full start/stop arrangement, but one that broke for George to fill. It was incredible! Having not listened to any tapes, I cant say w/ any authority that is was a new arrangement, but I asked someone who’d done the Euro tour, and he said this was definitely funkier then it had been in Europe. I can say that it was incredibly tight, and I was a bit sad that, since they checked it, we probably weren’t going to get it. They ended w/ Don’t Think Twice. The entire check was solid, from start to finish, powerful and full, assuredly not what it was in the fall. Sound was excellent too, though, obviously, sound outside and sound inside are two different things. All band members and Dylan were easily identified through the holes, but no one could figure out who the stocky shorter figure in the dark shirt was.

It was also one of the best entrances, second only to KCMO in 08. A short brisk walk got us our pick of rail real estate, and time to fine tune that, as no one was rushing right behind you. The rail filled up slowly, as more people eventually moseyed on over. I, of course, chose to stand between Tony and Stu. Again, having not seen/ heard ANYTHING for almost a year, the word “new” will be a bit subjective throughout, but there were all sorts of new amps littering the stage; in addition to Stu and Charlie’s signature Fender and Vox (respectively), each had a 65 Royal Albert amp set up as well. Never seen those anywhere before, so unfortunately, I cant elaborate further. I’m even hesitant to say they were actually used ......

W/ a west facing stage, it didn’t matter what time the ticket said, they weren’t about to set foot up there until the sun went down, but finally that old familiar intro music snaps the crowd to attention. They strap in, and w/ a snap, they explode into Leopard-Skin. This is definitely not the Fall 09 band anymore. The sound, for the rails, is unbelievable. Perhaps a bit too unbelievable, for I must admit, when Dylan started singing, it took me a good minute to get used to it again. No no, I haven’t turned into a detractor, as much as I kid, but having not heard it for 10 months, coupled w/ the fact that this was, by far, the cleanest and loudest vocal I’ve ever gotten at the rail…… it was a bit shocking.
Once I got past that, however, I was able to concentrate more on the music. Everything was incredibly solid. No longer a collection of 5 musicians, they were once again a band. The sound stayed strong as they moved into Lay Lady Lay. And, for perhaps the first time in my life, I think I heard Donnie at a Dylan show! haha Of course, that may be stretching it a bit far, but each entity was contributing to the sound in a meaningful way. I have never really liked this song, but there was absolutely nothing to complain about here. It was just a solid rendition. There’s no critique to be had.

Tom’s Thumb brought about another interesting occurrence; a decent Dylan solo. Was it the best? No. Should he be playing guitar in this town, a town full of guitar players? Probably not. However, it was very good, completely passable, and never once sounded like he was hitting notes for the sole purpose of making noise. Again, it’s not something to marvel over, but the last time I was around these parts, a Dylan solo was something that made you cringe, and this definitely didn’t.

Stuck Inside saw Dylan remain on guitar. A less ‘inspired’ solo came, but more noteworthy, for me at least, was the sharp and RAPID decline in sound quality. Granted, no one in their right mind goes to the rail thinking that’s going to be a great sounding place, but it was almost like someone sat something on the mixing board that just slid all the way down and messed up half the levels. Stu’s amp was pointed right at me, so at the very least I should have been able to hear him pretty well, but even that was touch and go at certain points. At this point, my critiques, while I will still make them, I’m sure have more to do w/ the fact that I couldn’t hear certain parts, and wont be as applicable when I listen to the tape.

The one thing that bugged me, and believe it was during this song, though I can say for sure, is that Tony, Charlie, and Dylan all standing in a row w/ Trussarts looked like the three damn stooges! While Trussarts aren’t my favorite sounding guitar, I could understand their use here or there, but three of them, employed on the same song….. gimme a break. Like I said, the sound mix dipped sharply after the 4th song, so I cant judge one way or the other too harshly (perhaps 3 Trussarts sound really great, I cant say for sure) but visually, they looked like a damn novelty act, a Trussart advertisement or something. All I do remember about the song, whichever it was, was that Stu was on acoustic…..thankfully Trussart doesn’t make acoustics!

Beyond Here saw the stocky unidentified figure from soundcheck bounce out, revealing himself to be Ivan Neville! He stood impishly behind the keys, as if he didn’t know if he’d actually be allowed to play them, or if it was just a joke. It wasn’t, and as the band kicked in, I came to the horrible realization that I couldn’t hear the keyboard!!!!!!! &*%^^&@%$&%^@%*&%^!!!!!!!!! Just my luck, we FINALLY get someone who knows what he’s doing behind the keys, and I cant fukin hear him! Aside from that, the song was just entirely too short. Neville didn’t stick around after the song was over (and yes, to kill those rumors, it WAS Donnie on trumpet, because I specifically watched him play some. on that song)

Tangled had weird phrasing, vocally, which I didn’t much care for, and but at least I could hear Stu’s acoustic real well. This might have been the three Trussart song, since I don’t think Stu plays acoustic for Stuck, but I had not brought near enough water and the middle songs began to run together until I borrowed some water from Lily. (You know something is wrong when you stop sweating when its that hot out!) This was NOT the show to be unprepared for.

Despite the joking and the kidding, I really am ‘over’ the lineup change, and do not compare one to the other (you cant, as far as I am concerned). The only time I ever felt ‘slighted’ the whole night was during Rollin and Tumblin. Even before the first note is struck, the tech outfits Charlie w/ the old Gibson hollowbody Denny played back in 05 (looks like a 175 but I don’t think it is, check the Amazon concert if you want to see it). Oh, man Then I notice he has a slide on his finger. Really?!
Yup, the band kicks into Rollin……oh man….. Denny plays a slide that will rip your skin off, Charlie….well, if he can, he sure as hell didn’t. I’m all for putting a personal touch on a song, and he did, near the end, and that was when it was actually really nice to listen to, but his slide before that was a couple steps down from ANY version I’ve ever heard of the song, Dylan, Muddy, anyone. The last part though, where it was ‘Charlie’, rather then just ‘someone covering a song’, was great. More of that next time they play it, and it could easily become a highlight.

Tryin was where the show really picked up for me. The sound issues were not (and would not be) resolved, but by now I’d learned how and what to listen, and just simply could not get over how tight this band was! Absolutely solid. Last fall, the thing that really turned me off the most, and its bound to happen any time you have a lineup change, was the big gaping hole in the sound. Even if you didn’t know what it was, something was definitely missing. No more! Tryin has and will always be a favorite of mine, and I was glad to see it standing strong.

Cold Irons though could not have been better if it tried, in my mind. Was there one particular player/moment/etc that made it stand out? No, it just cranked, from start to finish; a polished, well rehearsed song given a powerful performance, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Not because of one, but because of all.

Hot on its tail, Workingman’s was another standout. The last time I’d seen this, Stu, the backbone of the song, looked bored out of his mind, and it came through in his playing; a textbook case of going through the motions. Not tonight. Highly polished, GREAT emotion, cant find one wrong thing to say about it, at all. Dylan grabbed his harp on this one, and after a terrified second that he might be about to ruin the song, that worry was quickly put to rest. The last couple of times, his harp playing struck me as touch and go, which was disheartening; I’ve always loved his harp playing, but tonight, and during this song, it was back to being exactly what the song needed. Just speaking personally, I felt strangely peaceful listening to this song. I know you can always come back, but you cant come back all the way…… but, maybe you don’t need to come back all the way, ya know?

Pagel’s sources list that Ivan Neville came back out on that song, but the more I think about it, the more I am sure that that is NOT true. Someone suggested that he came back out for Cant Wait, and I think that is far more accurate. I wish I could have HEARD him, but alas, I must admit that the second time was just the same story as the first, and just as disappointing. (I also think there is something ify w/ the ordering thus far, but I was dehydrated, so what do I know? haha The tape will clear it all up) However, being that the 2nd Neville song was (most likely) Cant Wait, that disappointment evaporated pretty fast! My only compliant was that the sound was not as good as it was outside the gates, but that is to be expected. Again, I don’t know if the arrangement was new or not, but it was new to me, and I was digging every minute of it. This is a song that definitely required everyone to be on the same page, and they hit every mark RIGHT on time. Very cool, very funky, very powerful. I was very happy to have gotten it, especially since it was checked.

H61 seemed to have no high end, only rhythm (which, believe you me, I’m NOT complaining, I could see and, more importantly, hear Tony very clearly, always a huge thrill), but that is a direct problem of the sound mix, and obviously, I cant comment on the quality of something I cant hear. The only thing I can say is that there seemed to be slightly less energy on stage, which was probably the case; these guys were drenched.

Thunder was, for some inexplicable reason, the only time I could hear the keyboards. He and Charlie “dueled” back and forth, which was kind of entertaining, but I think it would get on my nerves if I were doing more shows this tour. It didn’t necessarily hurt the song, but it didn’t help it either. I remember really liking Thunder back in Oct, it was one of the highlights, but this time, I wouldn’t call it such. I think this is just because of the higher quality of songs I have to compare it to this time.

Ballad was another, like Workingman’s, which I had been disappointed by in the fall, especially in regards to Stu’s role. His tele still delivers the bite, but the song overall has matured, for lack of a better word. Before, it was full of youthful anger and confrontational spirit, an almost punk, in your face attitude, like they’d come up and punch you in the face and scream at you, just to piss you off. That anger is still there, but more veiled, more sinister. You really do have no idea whats going on, and they will hurt you in ways you cant even dream of, so just walk away. This is one of those that everyone groans about seeing on a setlist, but when done right, it can be one of the best of the night. This was one of those times.

I don’t like LARS, ever, and Watchtower was just as rockin and solid as anything that night, definitely a high note to end it on.

Due to the strange mix where I was, I was given the opportunity to really pay attention to George. He was easily the highest in ‘my’ mix all night, and it gave me a whole new appreciation for the guy. Having surrounded myself for the last year w/ a whole lot of drummers who don’t venture out of a TX shuffle (not that that’s necessarily a bad thing) it was surprising just how refreshing it was to hear that New Orleans flavor back behind the kit. When I play myself, drums become subconscious, only heard if they’re NOT working, and that’s what happened all the other times I’d seen George; he fits so well he became invisible. Tonight though, he drew my attention more then a few times, and in a good way. I’d really forgotten how much I enjoy hearing him play (even if I’m not always aware of it.)
Tony was Tony, and there’s just no one better then him. Smooth as silk, it’s always a trip to see that guy. When I quit touring, not seeing him was what made the decision hard. Thinking back now, I think WMB was the only time he pulled out the upright, which, while I would have liked to hear more from it, beggars cant be choosy.

Unfortunately, Donnie was completely inaudible again, but I’m thinking that has more to do w/ the early remix. Perhaps he was heard by those in the middle/back. My one true complaint of the night is the fact that Stu is now a COMPLETE rhythm player. “Wait a minute!” you say. “You always said you liked his rhythm playing!” And I do, I really do. I think his strength lies first and foremost in his acoustic fingerpicking, and many times that makes the song for me. I also believe that if Denny is on your stage, he should be taking all leads. Now that that is no longer a factor, I sincerely believe that Stu and Charlie need to be sharing guitar duties more evenly. This is not to say I tired of Charlie, but each guy has his own lead to bring to the table, and I think certain songs may sound better w/ Stu on lead. Obviously, Forgetful Heart and WMB need Stu on rhythm. But in other situations, Charlie on rhythm would work just as well.

Based the show in Oct, I really didn’t want to see another show again. I certainly didn’t want to pay for it. But tonight’s show was truly fun, and the band was rock solid, truly leaps and bounds above the last time I saw them. I really enjoyed the show and would gladly go see them again.

But perhaps the thing that made me happiest was that, after the show, I wasn’t driving up to OK.

Denny Freeman Trio, 5/8

Dallas. Forever the “road” city in my mind, it is the ugly stepsister of my adopted hometown, a place everyone in Austin loves to hate. I’m not here all the time, but I’ve been known to drop by semi-frequently, and I think even if I lived here for the rest of my life, it would still remain completely foreign to me. It’s the one place that Mapquest print-outs still ride on the passenger seat to EVERY destination, even if its just up the road. Hence the “road city” title; it represents the essence of every city I ever went to ‘on tour’. It still retains the fun/frustration of exploration (and, especially w/ Dallas, the looming threat of getting irreversibly lost) and the ineffable thrill of being in a new place every night that has all but disappeared from my travels.

Being on the cusp of recovering from a months-long creative block, and being back in Dallas, where everything is the same, yet completely different, I decided to try my hand at another review, this time without using “I.” All my Bob Dylan reviews were written for a very specific audience, which was nice, it meant I didn’t have to explain that Donnie Herron was the fiddle player every night, but it also makes the reviews a bit jarring for those “on the outside.” This one, I want someone w/ no previous knowledge to be able to pick up, read, and (hopefully) enjoy………

***

Sitting on the edge of downtown Dallas, a few blocks from where some of the most famous blues recordings were made, a few more blocks in another direction from Deep Elum, a locale any blues fan should know, 3 spectacled, grey haired men took the stage of a small club. To onlookers passing on the streets, it was perhaps not the most impressive sight. To those in the club, however, it was a performance seeped in the essence of the blues, and one not likely to be forgotten; if they were paying attention.

Throughout the night, Denny Freeman, augmented by Jim Milan on bass and Michael J Dohoney on drums and vocals treated those in attendance to what the familiar I-IV-V pattern can accomplish, if done right. Too often, the blues are dismissed for their three chord simplicity, and the penchant for everyone who can play a scale over them (often at blisteringly fast speeds and ear shattering volumes) proclaiming themselves ‘blues guitarists’. This neglects the simple reason the blues are the blues; the feeling. With many of the (more famous) greats dead and gone, perhaps the biggest factor of a pending blues extinction is the lack of any sort of emotion in most playing.

Thankfully, this does not apply in any way to Freeman. Across the spectrum, he plays a purely physical kind of blues, the kind that take hold of every muscle in your body and don’t let go until they are good and ready. Without realizing it, your arms tighten and your breath catches, your feet strain against the floor. Employing a deceptively simple combo of Bassman and Strat, the pure, rich tone and Freeman’s stylistic prowess unlock the magic that every I-IV-V progression has the potential of becoming. No matter what you’re coming from or where you are going, you cant help but notice an ineffable truth to Freeman’s playing as if he, like those select few before him, have somehow tapped into the collective unconscious, the shared experience of what it is to be human. In 3 sets each comprised partially of genre-spanning covers, and partially of Freeman’s own material, this essence never waned.

Often overlooked, the rhythm section in this band is a formidable asset. Never overbearing, never aurally invisible, and, more importantly, never out for the glory themselves, they are the textbook examples of the role drums and bass should play. Sometimes funky, sometimes with a more soulful vibe, there was never anything less then solid. Dohoney’s vocals perfectly mirrored the guitar work; they too were full of experience and a sort of melancholy joy, a reluctant acceptance of the world. Covers were the only songs needing vocals, but you would never know that by the performance. Combined with Milan’s ultra smooth fretless Fender jazz bass (Does your part time bassist at the local tavern play one of those? Didn’t think so), the result was a truly seamless delivery. Adding to the notion of the collective unconscious, it was at times difficult to believe that there were three separate brains creating this music. That each player has different bands and gigs he plays, and that they rarely, if ever, rehearse as a trio speaks volumes.

This is not ‘blooze’. You do not need to get liquored up on cheap LoneStar, and multiple servings of bourbon and scotch stand to detract from your appreciation (though, that is certainly not to suggest you need a Masters degree in music theory to enjoy the show either). If that is your kind of thing, you should probably show up early, pay your cover, and then promptly leave. You will not get it.

However, if you are the type who wants to see and hear true music before it becomes something that exists only in memory, you need to make every effort to see this band.

***

I wrote this at 4 am, the result of too much lingering caffeine and one of those fun N. Texas thunderstorms. I also closed it without saving the second half of the document (something I have never done in my entire life). Thanks, Dallas!

Jackie Greene, Boulder (2/1)

Several weeks ago, while walking passing a wall that is usually covered in posters for terrible excuses for the live shows Boulder usually gets, I recognized a familiar name; Jackie Greene! Noting (w/o stopping) that the date was sometime in March, I went on to my next class and on w/ my life.

Until last week, when I got an email from a friend, asking if I was going to the Jackie show this upcoming Monday! Oh no! A 12 dollar show isn’t exactly expensive, but I had 2 dollars to my name. By chance, I see that the local record store is offering 2 in a contest. I enter and think nothing of it…………. until I get an email the next day that I had won! I never win anything! You cant make stuff like that up. When something like that happens, you know you’re in for a good show.

No matter that it was a mellow Monday night Boulder crowd, to whom the thought of tearing into a theatre full tilt had never once occurred, the tension of the moment of doors opening was quick to return. Every experience is different, every experience is the same. It wasn’t imperative that I get the front, but as one of the first 20 or so through the door, it was impossible NOT to be against the stage. In what would have been celebrated on a Friday night (but slightly inconvenient on a Mon) we were to have 2 opening acts. The first was a younger guy who neither stated his name, nor was mentioned on the poster or ticket. Which is a shame, because Mystery Man was a fairly good opener. In the Greene-Blum-West Coast ‘singer-songwritter’ vein he had some, perhaps a bit underdeveloped, but poignant things to say. Still a young man, he has time to develop, and if we’d have been told his name, I’d happily be on the lookout for him in a few years. He has the potential to be good enough to be someone who will never make it big. That sounds absolutely terrible, but let me try to explain; the was the music industry is today, someone w/ substance, someone who has something to say, will never be given the opportunity that a talentless, here today, gone tomorrow flavor of the month will. This Mystery Man, if he’s ok w/ not making much money and not being ‘famous’ and continues to write, will be a very good songwriter. And, lucky you, appreciator of good music, you will never have to shell out hundreds of dollars to see him.

The second opener, who unfortunately had a name (and even gave away free CDs) was Danny Shafer, and he was everything that this first guy was not. The quintessential stereotype of a “70s singer songwriter” his songs were lighthearted jaunts about BBQs and “Johnny Prine” and had about as much depth as a footprint in the dust. He was just like….. that one guy, and…….ol’ whats his face, and……you know who I’m talking about……..The one hit wonder who was extremely big back then, but you cant even remember his name now. I found it extremely telling that the 3 arrogant, holier then thou, staple of Boulder, frat boys behind us could not shut up during the Mystery Man’s set, but hoped and hollered and cheered when mindless masses pleaser Shafer sang about eating spicy chicken wings. Apparently he was from Boulder………figures.

Thankfully, each opener only played a half hour set, and it wasn’t long before Greene and co. took the stage. While the players were the same since the last time I saw them in 2008, a lot has changed. From the opening chords of I Don’t Live In A Dream, it was clear that Greene has matured a LOT, both as a performer and as a musician. Last time, I remember being struck w/ “lead” guitarist Nathan Dale’s work, but tonight, I was decidedly unimpressed. Be it an off night, or the fact that I myself have grown as a guitarist and have been exposed to many more players, but Dale was simply average, nothing more. Greene, on the other hand, seems to have only gotten better. Obviously, a trio has a different sound then a band w/ two guitarists, and it can be argued that the two-guitar sound is what he is after right now, but, to be completely honest, Dale is simply NOT a necessity on the stage, musically speaking. Not that he spoiled any song during the evening, but he is utterly replaceable by any professional musician.

While he was never one to lack presence or audience command, Greene has taken it to another level these days. Despite my comments on Dale, the band is very strong behind him, and during New Speedway Boogie, a song that, even when playing w/ Phil, I always considered more of a Jackie song, he had the audience almost eating out of his hand, snarling and growling at the mic, removing his hat and twisting reminiscent of a 66 and 75 Bob Dylan (as if that comparison hasn’t been made enough haha). I believe it was during this song that I noticed an unmistakable Larry Campbell influence, another Phil Lesh bandmate. Again, he was great before, but now he is stepping it up a notch.

The show continued on in this manner, until Gone Wanderin’, when Greene invited the audience to sing along. All were happy to oblige, until he stepped away from the mic and let the sing on their own. Embarrassed, everyone stops w/i one second. The band stops too. “What was that?” chides Greene. “We’re stoned!” a woman from the crowd offers. ‘We don’t know what part we’re at!” He smiles, “The chorus”, and this time everyone makes it through not one, but 2 choruses.

The next song was easily the highlight of the night. I Shot The Sheriff came out of nowhere (apparently this was its debut) and smacked everyone over the head w/ more then just a taste of Jamaica. If there was one song that embodied the comments I’ve made about the entire show, this was it. A real pleasure to witness, and one of a few times I was really exited that there were two guitars.

As is usually the case, Greene also spent some time on the keyboards. First one of these to really catch my attention was Tell Me Mama, which had been turned into a very slow blues from what I was used to. At the beginning, it sort of rubbed me the wrong way, and I didn’t feel the tempo suited it all that well, but as time went on, the song grew on me and while still an interesting choice, I felt it worked well.

Immediately following was the next highlight, completely on par w/ Sheriff, an extremely funky Lord Mistreats Me. Keyboards switched to the organ setting, great Dale guitar work, just incredible funk/blues tune in a show consisting mainly of jam and rock songs. Not that I don’t like jam and rock, but this was more up my alley then anything else all night.

The remainder of the night stayed solid, a few Beatles tunes (Taxman and Don’t Let Me Down), some Dead, some originals. We were treated to Mexican Girl for the electric encore (always a favorite of mine) then the band retired leaving up treated to two new acoustic songs of a soon to be released record. The first, 1961, tells a story that, by the end, is extremely predictable, but I really liked it nonetheless. I’m sure after multiple listens I’ll be sick of it, but on a first listen it was really very nice. The second, Holy Land, was more involved, a first person interrogator rather then a removed narrator, and one with more staying power in the long run, perhaps a closer. However, tonight’s closer was Sweet Somewhere Bound, which fits its slot perfectly. I know I have good memories of it, I’m sure everyone in the audience does as well.

There was the option to hang around and meet him afterwards, but having nothing specific I wanted to say to him, and faced w/ a long and cold walk home, I opted to just get going. However, if there was ever a doubt, he has surely cemented his place among the greats, even if too many people aren’t hip to it right now. Regardless of how the future will look back on him, Jackie Greene is one of, if not the best artist under 30 working today.

Last Thoughts On Bob Dylan

Today, a video (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfDbHxW_1Lg) began to make its way around my circle of Facebook friends, more specifically, my Bob Dylan friends. Normally I dont watch Youtube clips of Dylan show, but since this was from 2008, I clicked on the link, a particularly beautiful Blowin In the Wind....

Chills radiated up my spine, out my shoulders and into my arms, the world stopped spinning and time moved backwards. I see and feel the same filling, satisfying, ineffable out-of-self feeling I felt the nearly 23 times I was in the audience when it was played (and the countless other times I listened to tapes). This song always signified the end of a VERY long and thrilling day. Whatever lows had occurred, they were but a mere afterthought to the incredible high you were feeling now. Yes, the show was in its final moments, but those moments seem to last forever. A part of me is still out there in some of those final moments, especially encased the some of the more exceptional solos by then lead guitarist, Denny Freeman. All I have to do is hear a few notes, and I will forever be transported, to the balmy heat of a TX summer night, or the cavernous theaters of New England, or the hockey arenas of the upper Midwest. This was one of those renditions, except, I wasnt at this show. But hearing those notes brought everything back.

I will never forget the way I felt late that night of Aug 20, 2009. As pathetic as it sounds, my world really did come (at least partially) crashing down. The Bob Dylan tour had literally been the only constant in my life since the government chose to classify me as an "adult". After growing up in a poor rural place, getting to actually GO to all the places I'd heretofore been forced to experience vicariously was more then a dream come true. To have people take what you said seriously, to discuss the music you loved the most w/ those who felt the same; it was a luxury that I'd never known before, and it was as close to heaven as a 19 year old kid could get.

That was when I was still naive, before I discovered the backstabbing, the immaturity, the nastiness, the clique-ish subculture that seems to permeate deep into the community. That was when waiting in line ALL day through all sorts of hellish weather was actually a BLAST, when I wasnt anxious about who might show up and how thick the tension in the air would get. Back then, I LIVED for the instant the gates opened, when it was just us vs. them (venue "security"), before I knew that there were certain people/groups you had to watch out for, groups who wouldnt hesitate to throw an elbow in your side, or a leg underfoot, people you had to be careful of brushing against (while being herded like cattle through a labyrinth, mind you) least they think it an aggressive move on your part and now make a POINT of taking you down.

Dont get me wrong, that stuff was always there, but I just didnt or couldnt see it. I thought that when we all went in, we were all focusing on all aspects of the music being created, just as I was. I thought we were ALL fascinated by the instruments, and that we all saw each of the band members as separate individual entities, I thought everyone felt the same way I did. By and large, I was wrong. (Turns out, most people just want to gaze at Dylan, not that there is anything wrong w/ that.)

So when my tenure as a continued audience member was abruptly ended, I was lost at sea as a million adrenaline fueled, vein tingling memories flooded back. All that, literally, all my "adult" life, was done, over, finished, never to be recreated or found again.

Naturally, such a realization was accompanied by sadness. In the coming months, I watched a new tour be built, tickets go on sale, friends arrive at new venues in exciting new towns, all that used to excite me like no other. I listened to tapes 05-(summer)09 w/ a heavy heart; Dylan's music would NEVER sound as good (a fact which remains to this day). Having attended one show and sampled a few tapes from the new tour, I knew the experience was not the same and did not regret that I was not attending any more on the tour.

I did, however, feel some remorse that there was not a reason to go anymore. This would be exacerbated in those proceeding months by that feeling that inspired this writing; the instant flashback of being there; being a part of something bigger. In those fleetingly eternal moments inside the solo of the last song, especially looking back, I felt as though we were all lifted outside ourselves, to form somewhat of a collective soul, drawn together by the shared association of being where we were at the exact second this "thing", this song, was being created (and I should not have to say this, but no, this was not chemically induced). This "togetherness" probably existed in my mind alone, as more then a few people were probably plotting how to sabotage thier rivals next entrance, or loathing the person next to them for dancing too much or not enough.

So tonight, when my fingertips grew icy and my lips curled into a smile at hearing a remarkable solo, I was surprised to notice that I did not long to be at a show, did not want to experience these things again. It is true, Dylan's music will never again sound as beautiful as it did between March 05 and Aug 09, but, for some inexplicable reason, I am now content to let the past be the past. It was pure joy, and nothing else, that rose in me upon hearing that familiar Strat. That I can probably never attend any ticketed event where the performers whisked to and fro, like ghosts in the wind, under the same guise is a given, but I accept that I walked out a different person then I walked in. There was never any ill-will, but there are no longer any hard or remorseful feelings that come w/ the memories.
And so I bid farewell and not give a damn..........

You Can Always Come Back.... (Denver, 10/21)

Also appeared here-

http://expectingrain.com/discussions/viewtopic.php?f=2&t=43917

...But you cant come back all the way.

It was 3 days short of 3 years to the date I saw Bob Dylan for the first time, and for the first time since that day, he was back in Denver. And, in many ways, it was again a “first show”. Wanting to attack this band w/ an absolute clean slate, free of any biases or expectations, I did not listen to any tapes, watched only the minimal Youtube clips, and, aside from simply relaying texts, I abstained from monitoring the setlists. Whether this affected me in a negative way, I cannot say, but in the days leading up to the show, I have never been more indifferent to an impending Dylan show. I fell asleep the night before w/o even the slightest tinge of excitement in my belly.

This apathy was only increased upon waking to a pouring and frigid sky (one that would no doubt turn to snow before the days end). I went about my day in a completely normal fashion and eventually arrived at the venue amidst low hanging, slushy clouds.

The first of two things happened to lift my spirits- a) the venue agreed to let us wait INSIDE all day, and b) the “line” was made up of only people I knew and enjoyed waiting w/….. no headcases, nutjobs, or general wackos to make the wait uncomfortable and stressful. We heard but couldn’t see soundcheck, which went something like- Maggie’s, Wicked Messenger, Hollis, Baby Blue, If Not For You, Things Have Changed, Deal, and ending w/ Beyond Here, of which we were treated to ONLY Donnie’s trumpet. Not bad. The venue’s staff seemed relatively competent, ignoring, of course, every venues penchant for redundant, logic-less strategies for doors. While I was feeling really good about it at the beginning, there’s nothing like a long bunch of VIPs to really stress you out. Granted, most of them had seats and we all made the rails, but that is just unneeded stress that I’m glad not to have to put up w/ for a long time.

Those of you following my plight this summer wont find it hard to believe that I was the one who had the burly bald security in my face for “running when I was told not to”. “Next time,” he threatens, “there will be BIG problems”. Oh, please. He wanders off and I am able to survey my real estate. The stage is incredibly low for an arena, mid-bicep for me, and the rails cant be more then 6 feet from the stage. I was maybe 1 or 2 people to the left of (what I assumed would be) ideal Tony-viewing area, but I was directly in front of Stu, and the size of the stage made it so that I could see all musicians clearly.

The all-too familiar intro music soon silenced conversations and summoned the shadows onstage. Unlike this summer at Round Rock, the lanky hatless figure who appeared between Stu and Tony was expected, and I hoped this would work to my advantage. As I said in my review of that show, it was the tease of Freeman being onstage which added to my feeling of utter disappointment. Since he was not expected to make an appearance tonight, I hoped I would be able to appreciate this new band for what it now was.

Stuck Inside, a very strange opener, kicked things off. In my only show of the tour, I was kind of hoping for Change, but was given this instead. It wasn’t bad, and I have nothing particularly negative to say about it, but I also found nothing noteworthy about it. It was a Bob Dylan song, nothing more, nothing less. I will say that, while I prefer a bit more Stu (especially on acoustic), the mix was really excellent, and anyone could be heard w/ a bit of focus.

It Aint Me was next, Stu again on acoustic, and it was an utterly standard version. That sounds negative, and I don’t mean it to, but it could easily be replicated in any town on any night. Dylan strapped on the guitar for this one, and while it was that weird, Koella-esque stuff that sprang forth, it wasn’t terrible. Stu’s role seemed quite diminished from this summer, which is a detriment to the tune.

Beyond Here continued this pattern. No high point, no low point, just a song, w/ a chorus, and a verse, and a guitar solo. Donnie’s trumpet could be heard, if you REALLY listened hard enough, but it sounded like he was playing it from miles away (though, he looked winded and red-faced by the time it was over, no doubt owning to the high altitude), and overall the song didn’t reach NEAR the level it did when I saw it in ABQ.

This marked the first time I had seen Most Likely in a very long time, and honestly, I could go another long time w/o seeing it again if this is how its going to be presented. It was just like all the other songs up until this point, it didn’t do anything special, it just sort of was….. I don’t mean to imply that they were bad songs, or boring, but, rather, they were standard.

The first song that actually moved me one way or the other finally came in the form of Cold Irons. This was one I always wanted to see (mainly from the previous band) but never got, and when it first started, I didn’t recognize the new arrangement. It was slow and dark, a bit spooky, but I really liked it. The song has enormous potential, and I cant wait to see what they ultimately end up doing w/ it, but tonight that potential was not reached. Not that it was bad, but it could have been a whole lot better, in my opinion (I just cant exactly pinpoint where it needs work). Perhaps it should have been longer; it seemed to just stop. Dylan did play a very nice center stage harp, prancing and contorting in the corner of my eye, and he really seemed to be enjoying himself.

Workingmans was ALWAYS a favorite of mine, and this more then any other song tonight made me long for shows gone past. The general consensus of those around me was that it was great, but I couldn’t see why. The whole thing seemed really subdued and content to just arrive somewhere, rather then to push it to the next level. The absence of guitar was replaced w/ harmonica, and while there was nothing technically wrong w/ it, to me, personally, it doesn’t excite me the way a beautiful guitar part used to. Even Stu, the lifeblood of that song, seemed to be merely going through the motions.

High Water was better, but ultimately forgettable. It’s a bit of a different tempo, slower now, and not as grooving. Tony was on upright for the first time of the night, throwing in a bit of (inaudible) slap, and for the first time I could see the front half of his body. He spend the whole night cuddled between his bass cab and the drum risers, his face practically in the speaker cone, which was very frustrating because I was really looking forward to seeing him play tonight. Apparently this is an unusual thing for him to do, but I had it happen more then a few times, and a friend suggested that maybe I am making him nervous, that he is not used to such unwavering attention. So instead, I spend much of the night watching Stu. He’s not someone I ever watched like a hawk, but I have spent a fair amount of time observing him, and I don’t know if its just tonight, or what, but his parts have REALLY been whittled away to almost nothing. He plays only the basic requirements of the song (not by choice, I’m sure), and I think played all of 2-3 solos all night. Not that a solo is everything, and I have said many times that his strength is rhythmic fingerpicking, but when he’s doing neither of the two, the songs themselves suffer. I thought overall the ballparks this summer were a step down from 08, but many times tonight I found myself wishing certain songs would have been “as good as the ballparks”.

A Denny-less Spirit was not something I was ever looking forward to, but was pleasantly surprised when Charlie stepped it up a notch and delivered on a song I assumed (given the rest of the night) would fall flat on its face. It didn’t, and I feel extremely more confident in the songs ability to continue to be a setlist staple.

Honest was as close to the album version as I’d ever seen it, and I don’t know that that’s necessarily a good thing. It suffered greatly because of Stu’s (forced?) lack of involvement, and, while it was one of the few times he actually took a solo, it was almost as if he’d forgotten what he’d been playing since last summer. Looking back, it was actually kind of interesting; the notes he left out, and if you were unfamiliar w/ how he’s been playing it the last 15 months, I don’t think you’d know the difference. It was a strange feeling thought, longing for a Stu lead on Honest haha

Easily the highlight of the night came as a double-edged sword. Man In The Long Black Coat was the single most wanted song from me since it reappeared last fall. I couldn’t get over the haunting beauty I heard on the tapes, and took almost personal offense when it was retooled as Man In The Floppy Red Shoes for the Euro tour at the beginning of the year. After such a travesty, I didn’t want to hear it! But tonight it was back to its sinister beauty. The fact that this wasn’t the band I’d yearned to hear play this sat heavy in the back of my mind, but it was what it was and so I was able to get past that quickly. Charlie fired off one of his better solos of the night, and Stu really seemed tuned in to the mists of the bayous. W/o a doubt the high point of the night, and one that ended entirely too quickly.

Deal was another one I was curious/worried about how Charlie would handle. Its one that I really only ever liked for Denny’s leads, and usually skip on tapes once I’ve heard what he would do w/ it. That being said, Charlie absolutely nailed this one w/ his (new?) white Gretch. It wasn’t what Denny would have done, but it was no less incredible for it. Charlie grew up looking up to and listening to Denny play, but until tonight, I have never heard that influence in his playing. Here there was no doubt!

The same could almost be said for Thunder. Sounded completely different, but I REALLY liked the choices Charlie made, and also respect the decision to not just play a copycat version. In an ultimate guitar fantasy, I would love to see the song performed w/ both men onstage (and playing, Round Rock doesn’t count); especially tonight, Charlie was settin’ em up right and left, but he needed someone to knock em down….. I’m drooling at the possibility right now haha

Thin Man was absolutely Stu’s song this summer, and I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed a bit. It is his biting attack that takes hold of the audience and gives the song its power. I’m really glad they play it every night, if I were to be doing more shows this tour, I don’t think its possible to get tired of this one.

LARS is one that I've never had any feelings for one way or the other, and that really didnt change tonight, but for one line. Dylan's voice, which has been touch and go for some time now, was quite strong all night. Rough as all hell, but strong, and incredibly clear given the circumstances, I understood all that he said (aided by the fact that he seemed to have no trouble remembering all the lyrics). During LARS, this growl developed a particular bite as he snarled, "As you stare into the vacuum of your mother's eyes..." Wow! A fleeting moment, but proof positive he is still capable of summoning "it" when need be.
Jolene, a song that, for some reason, I cant stop playing myself, wasn’t as good as on its debut tour. As some have noted, the main riff is missing. Which, I suppose, it fine, if the rest of it weren’t being played w/ a drab uninterest. The power I spoke of in regards to Thin Man used to be present in Jolene, again thanks to Stu, but his tele is now just sort of jumbled in w/ everything else and holds no sway over the song. I was also a bit disappointed in the choices Charlie made, as none of them really did anything for me. Again, not bad, but simply generic.

Watchtower rocked, w/ almost ballpark intensity complements of Stu’s low down grit. Charlie’s closing 2 solos were extremely ethereal, which probably comes off as more of a complement then I intended; there was nothing about them you could latch onto. They were far too flitty; no substance behind them.

And just like that, it was over. Closure? Maybe.

And so, for the first time since my first show, I get in my car and head not for a hotel, a couch or the next show, but back to my own house. I am happy I went, and enjoyed the show. I will go again if/when they come to my town. But I am just as happy to not be headed to Kansas. I am content knowing I wont see them again until 2010 (at the earliest), which is something I never thought I would ever say.

I know these thoughts may not be popular. I know that many will write them off, say I am being biased because I like Denny, or that I somehow hate Charlie, or whatever. However, I worry that, as a fan himself, Charlie becomes a surrogate for all those in the audience who want to be “friends” w/ Dylan, and as such, may overlook the actual quality of what the shows could slip into in favor of a playful display between Dylan and Sexton.

Love them or hate them for it, one thing you could never accuse the 05-09 band of being is “genaric”.