Thu, October 30, 2008
Loner poet
Rock icon Bob Dylan doesn't pander to fans, he just delivers
By MIKE ROSS, SUN MEDIA
Publicity-shy Bob Dylan performed an intimate concert at Rexall Place last night.
For cynical observers of pandering, manufactured pop stars who don't do anything without first checking with their fans, Bob Dylan is a breath of fresh air.
The theory is this: If you don't care what people think, if you play your music only for your own enjoyment, if you're honest about what makes you happy, if you value artistry over entertainment, then you will perform better. People pick up on this, and the audience is happy, too. Everybody wins.
Of course there's got to be a limit before it slides completely into self-indulgence. Doesn't there? Don't ask Bob. He's not talking. Just ask: What crazy thing is he going to do next to please himself -and how will we talk ourselves into loving it this time?
Last night's show at Rexall Place is just another example of Dylan being able to do whatever the hell he wants, safe in the knowledge that his devoted fans will eat it up, delighted merely that he shows up - or maybe he really doesn't care. Audience? What audience? He's got the wealth. He's got the critical acclaim. He's got the Pulitzer Prize. He doesn't have to do this, you know. So he's obviously doing it for fun, staging the neverending Dylan tour, this time supporting an ironic album of old-timey grooves called Modern Times, yet again hailed as a masterpiece by professional music critics the world over.
So if Dylan wants to stage what came across as a low-budget, gritty blues jam in some rural honky tonk, that's his perogative as the "poet laureate of rock 'n' roll." He wants to play organ all night? So he did, noodling relentlessly on his fake Hammond. He wants to blow one of his gloriously inept harmonica solos in almost every song? Go to it! He does it because he can. And if he finds satisfaction in "re-imagining" his classics to the point that the listeners can play "guess that tune," who are we to stop him?
Following a taped fanfare and florid introduction, the opener - a thumping shuffle - took just a moment to identify. It turned out to be Rainy Day Women No. 12 & 35, otherwise known as the "everybody must get stoned" song. Some folks in the crowd of 9,000 took their cue and lit one up. Bob, meanwhile, toyed with the melody the way a bored cat plays with a doomed mouse.
Kind of sounded like it, too. Yes, that trademark raspy bray was in fine form last night, booming straight through his nose as the loudest thing from stage. In the legacy of great singers who can't sing, Dylan is king, and yet for all his unique, oft-parodied delivery, you can tell that he always knows where the right note is. He just often chooses not to sing it, that's all. Again, he's entitled. He's got a class 1 poetic licence.
From a sloppy ending on Rainy Day Women, Dylan and his black-hatted band whipped into a pair of familiar tunes: It's All Over, Baby Blue and Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again, each taking at least one verse to identify due to their spindled arrangements, folded grooves and mutilated melodies. He was dogged by reports of bad sound and incomprehensible vocals on earlier dates of this tour, but I'm happy to report the sound wasn't too bad last night; you could actually understand what he was singing, at least half the time.
Now that's something.
Dylan's current touring band was competent, if unspectacular, lacking the bohemian edge of some previous stage combos, and guitarist Charlie Sexton was sorely missed. But generally speaking, the rootsier the song, the better these guys sounded, at its best with instrumentation like upright bass and banjo on some of the Modern Times material.
With only the most basic of stage lighting (and no video screens so you could get a really good look at him; perish the thought), at times you really did get the sense this was a boozy blues jam, especially in new songs like The Levee's Gonna Break - another barroom shuffle - where it seemed like everyone was soloing at the same time. It actually sounded pretty cool. The sonic benefit of musicians pleasing themselves was demonstrated several times last night, and yes, the audience definitely picked up on it.
Dylan didn't say anything to the crowd, of course, and if there was any subtext to be read into his material - all sorts of his 60's classics take in new meaning today - it was left to the listener. Hey Bob: Would it kill you to say "Hello, Edmonton!" just once? No, that would be weird. We love Dylan for who he is: a rock 'n' roll maverick, a cryptic bard, the ultimate anti-showman who seems to revel in doing the opposite of what every other rock star in the world does.\ SOUNDCHECK\ MAIN EVENT
Bob Dylan
IN THE SEATS
9,000 in Rexall
NOTE PERFECT
A low-tech blues jam that showcases artistry over entertainment
RATING
4 out of 5
AI
