BOB DYLAN at Bogart's - July 11, 1999

historydeletesitse
Aug 26, 2022
8 min read

After seeing Bob Dylan in concert at Bogart's on July 11th 1999 I submitted a review of the show to a local arts weekly. Wanting to remain anonymous just to see if they would run the piece at all, I used the pseudonym Nick Pacer. To my great surprise they ran it as the cover story a week later.

-rh

Well, the old guy definitely appears to be enjoying himself. His Chuck Berry chicken steps, Guitar Hero poses, and wobbly Elvis knees seemed more like the behavior of a 7-year old kid, not a man approaching 60. From the moment he first took the stage in a barrage of blinking strobes, it was apparent that this was not going to be a cursory run-through of the Greatest Hits.

Opening with an old gospel number, “Somebody Touched Me”, Bob looked trim and healthy in black pants and jacket. His thick, wavy hair piled high and messy as usual, his face looked not unlike the ‘classic’ mid-60’s image we all see in our mind’s eye whenever someone mentions his name. He just looked GREAT; Eyes distant and serious, squinting that sun-in-my-eyes grimace, occasionally coming into focus and throwing flirty glances at the young ladies in the first few rows. Flanked by handsome devils and could-be brothers Charlie Sexton [guitar] and Larry Campbell [guitar, mandolin, pedal steel, and violin], with drummer David Kemper and long-time sideman Tony Garnier on bass, Bob proved once again that when he shows up to play he brings the best in the biz for his backing band. This 3-guitar front line suits Bob’s songs & voice well, as no one takes either a “rhythm” or “lead” role in his band. Rather, the three of them weave a wondrous and wandering pattern of beautifully blended single-note lines and simple chords. Dylan himself took most of the solos, and, for a man who’s known primarily as a songwriter, he revealed himself to be a master of burning blues riffs. He slung his guitar from side to side and even raised it Heavenward on occasion. Taunting us with his deceptively simple solos, repeating what must be his favorite 3 or 4 notes, he played with such fervor and conviction that all who were in attendance must surely now be re-evaluating the man’s guitar-playing prowess.

After setting the tone, and perhaps sending a thinly-veiled message, with his opening gospel song, Dylan then moved into familiar territory with a crowd-pleasing “My Back Pages” (“I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now”). Indeed, he DID look younger than he has in recent years. Merely a personal observation, but I reckon a brush with death might result in a new lease on life regardless of one’s stature in this world…

“Desolation Row” followed and Bob seemed to have no trouble recalling and re-interpreting its many verses. Even in its new, up-beat incarnation, this one raised howls of approval from the crowd.

“To Ramona” was taken at a hurried-waltz clip, and though he omitted one verse of this bittersweet gem, it took this writer back in time to his first Dylan concert many years ago. Words of longing and confusion flow from Bob’s tongue effortlessly, in new and unpredictable melodies every night. As Bob bade Ramona to come closer and shut softly her watery eyes, it was like hearing the song for the first time again. It’s always that way with Dylan – it seems he just can’t sing a song the same way twice. He’s constantly re-interpreting even his most popular tunes; A mark of true genius, and one of many in his case. Even an obvious choice like “Tangled Up In Blue” sounded like it never had before. And never will again. If you could count how many times the man has sung this song, only then would you know how many different versions of it have been performed. Talk about words of longing and confusion. If you’ve never once in your life fought back tears while listening to this song, well, you’re a stronger man than me. Or perhaps you’re dead.

Tears welled up again during Bob’s soft and subtle reading of “Girl From The North Country”. But when Dylan & Co. traded their acoustic guitars for electric ones and played “Seeing The Real You At Last” the energy level in the room increased in such a rapid and explosive fashion you’d have thought the room had burst into flames. This little-known tune from 1985’s Empire Burlesque LP has resurfaced in recent years and has quickly established itself as a concert favorite. Like history repeating itself, Bob went electric with this one after starting the show with half a dozen acoustic numbers. One of the few bona fide ‘hits’ of the evening was next, a gravelly and heartfelt version of “Lay, Lady, Lay”. This tune found Bob standing alone at center-stage and really putting it across in a romantic and straightforward fashion. Though the band seemed to be struggling at first when they began “Most Likely You Go Your Way (And I’ll Go Mine)”, when they found the groove there was no mistaking that this is one of the best bands that Bob has ever had. Struggle ‘til you find it, boys. It’s just such a pleasure to hear you playing it at all. One of the highlights of the entire evening was next: the hillbilly rave-up of “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere”, featuring the fine fiddle work of Larry Campbell and some beautiful harmony vocals from Mr. Campbell and Charlie Sexton.

Next up was “Not Dark Yet”, one of only a couple tunes played that night from Bob’s latest CD, the instant-classic Time Out Of Mind. This song brought me another in a series of heavy revelations. Like many Dylan songs, new meanings and insights surface with each listen. This rendition of “Not Dark Yet” dealt a deep and complex message of surrealist resignation. The reflections of a man in the autumn of his years who’s not even sure what he’s reflecting upon anymore. The nightfall metaphor of this song’s lyrics really hit home that night, as if we were privy to a poet’s soliloquy on mortality.

Bob closed out the set with a blistering rendition of “Highway 61”, during which all the guitar slingers let fly with their hottest licks. A real barn-burner to close the show.

The obligatory encore began with “Lovesick”, the lead-off track from Time Out Of Mind. The chorus of this song was illuminating in more ways than one, as Bob’s light-man bathed the stage in bright whites. A swampy, syruppy dirge on the album, this number becomes a menacing bluesy beast in concert, as Bob really makes you believe that he truly is “sick of love”.

The crowd saved its loudest roar for what is most likely Dylan’s best-known song: “Like A Rolling Stone”. With the packed house singing along with every word, it was very clear that no one in the room would debate the fact that this song changed history. This song changed history, I thought to myself, and my mind was sent reeling once again. It is a song that a young person can dig, for sure, but no one really hears it for the first time until he or she has racked up a few candles on the cake; a song that you hear “for the first time” every few years. I don’t care how many times you’ve heard it, or how often the man plays it in concert, it is an undeniable fact that rock music was forever altered after this song appeared on the scene. The first single A-side to dare stretch beyond 3 ½ minutes stirred the imaginations of all who heard it. A very distinguishable line was drawn at this point in the history of pop music, as singers and songwriters all over the world realized that lyrics didn’t always have to be only about “I love you and you love me”. Dylan’s daring lyrics and acerbic delivery influenced everyone from the Beatles on down, even before he handed the Fab 4 their first joint. (You wanna talk about how this man changed history? Don’t even get me started on the repercussions of that particular episode… ) Anyway, back to the point that I was trying to make – here was the living legend himself, singing the song that forever altered the course of history. In our own back yard, no less.

Acoustic guitars were donned once again for “It Ain’t Me, Babe”, and Dylan chose to re-invent the melody for the verses in this one, too. However, it was the crowd that seemed to be leading him through the choruses, belting out “No, no, no! It ain’t me”. A blistering version of Buddy Holly’s “Not Fade Away” also got a tremendous reaction from the assembled masses, and as Bob and the boys set down their instruments and left the stage it seemed as though that would be it for tonight. To my surprise, we were treated to a second encore (an unprecedented fifth post-set song) as they returned to the stage for a beautiful reading of “Blowin’ In The Wind”. The house lights remained out for several minutes as the crowd continued to clap their hands and stomp their feet in response to what was surely one of the greatest performances ever given on that stage.

If this was your first-ever Dylan concert, well, you got a doozy. And if perhaps you’ve seen the man any number of times, you too, know that you saw something truly special that night. This is a man who continues to tour 8 months out of every year, playing in countries all over the world. He occasionally dips into a dinky club like our Bogart’s to deliver a moving and intimate performance like he did last Sunday. But only very rarely, and usually in larger, more ‘exotic’ cities like Amsterdam or San Francisco. If you were in attendance for this show, you were not only lucky, you were blessed. And, if you do the math, it is very easy to see that the man must take a serious cut in pay in order to put on a show like this. The tickets were a steal at $25.25, and the sell-out crowd reportedly numbered at just around 1,464. That’s a mere 37 thousand dollars total take (not including t-shirt sales, etc.), which must surely be a fraction of what the man commands for a regular night’s work in the larger arenas and sheds where we usually catch his act.

So why would he bother? A lot of big ‘name’ acts claim that they do it just because they enjoy the intimacy of the occasional small-club gig. If that’s Bob’s motivation as well, he’s certainly put his money where his mouth is.

As I said at the outset of this piece – the old guy sure looks like he’s enjoying himself. And deservedly so, after all he’s given us over so many years. He’s weathered every kind of personal and professional adversity. His records and performances have been alternately panned and praised over the course of his thirty-eight year career. He never asked to be a legend. As far as I can tell, he’s just tried to remain true to his muse and never bowed to industry pressures or trends. Along the way, well, it just so happens that he changed history. What else is there to say? Only this:

Thanks, Bob. Come back and see us again.