Monday, August 1, 2011
The Concert
The wide-brimmed hat set square over his head, like some UFO just abducted his brain. The jacket so reminiscent of some post-Korean war cheezy Palm Beach crooning lounge lizard. Dark blue pants with yellow stripes like those that Custer wore at his last stand. The lyrical raspy voiced carnivalesque jump-cuts quite like some Fellini film I never saw before. There were flashes fluctuating between the iconic mega-real, and 'Something's happening here, and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?' Four encores were killing my knees, but I was determined to pay homage. Last night, still hypnotized by Bob Dylan. It was a gift to me. For my birthday. Thanks, Sam.
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8 comments:
Dan, you lucky dog you . . . nice gift Sam.
Wow, must be over two decades since I last saw him play, what a terrific gift to receive!
Happy belated.
Yes! Dylan at 70. Last night's set list:
Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat
It's All Over Now, Baby Blue
Things Have Changed
Tangled Up In Blue
Beyond Here Lies Nothin'
Mississippi
High Water (For Charley Patton)
Sugar Baby
Highway 61 Revisited
(Lukas Nelson on Guitar)
Forgetful Heart
Thunder On The Mountain
Ballad Of A Thin Man
Encore:
Like A Rolling Stone
All Along The Watchtower
Blowin' In The Wind
Lukas Nelson, Willie's son, guest jammed on electric guitar on Hwy 61 Revisited!
After the last encore number, Dylan knelt at the edge of the stage, took his harmonica off his mike, autographed it, and handed it down to some lucky person in the front row....
cool souvenir!
That's awesome. I guess this country can still serve up some classic icons you could search the world over and not duplicate. A unique voice in every way. Live music is the best and to see and hear it when it contains such depth of content, musical history, a voice and message that one grew up with and felt kinship with, must have been thrilling. What an amazing birthday gift!
Yes. Well, you know how it is with certain music. It becomes some kind of back-drop sound-track on a rush of memories of where you were then, and so on.
I've just read this and wept.
Aww, Shrinky. You sentimental soul. Look, here's what you do. Get yourself a plane ticket to New York. (Have some pizza while there) Then, rent a car and drive 1,000 miles south. When you get to Tennessee, start asking, Do you know where Dan lives? The first 852 will likely say no. But eventually someone will say, Oh, that guy. He lives in Pottsville. Meanwhile, I'll put the kettle on, and be ready to give you a big, big hug!! : )
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