On Saturday the 13th of December I went to a Bob Dylan concert in Washington DC. Despite the fact that over the past few years Mr. Zimmerman has gotten more than sub-par live reviews while on his “never ending tour,” most of which say that he’s a terrible performer and that nothing sounds like it used to, I still shelled out those sixty five bucks (that’s with a student discount!), plus $5.25 shipping and tax to see him perform. And gosh darnet, it was well spent. Here’s why:
- The concert was hosted by George Washington University and Dylan was playing in the Charles E. Smith Center, aka the gym. Now, there are definite downsides to this: Number one, the gym. I highly doubt that I was the only person who felt like she was in highschool again, smushed into a room with padded walls for some event that should never be taking place in the same space as a basketball game. Number two, it was a dry concert. Would the young Dylan ever have prohibited alcohol at one of his shows? HELL NO. But then again, from 8:15 pm when he took the stage, to 10:30 pm for his “Like A Rolling Stone” finale, I soberly enjoyed watching him perform. Not very often do you get the chance to experience a concert without being under the influence of some sort of drug. And hey, it was actually pretty nice. Plus, after a while the gym thing sort of contributed to the glory of yester year feeling – them good old days when things were simple. It was all about the music.
- For all the people out there who have ever swooned at a cute older grandpa, Bob Dylan has turned into the most precious of aging men (OK, he’s only 69 years old, but the days of rockstardom have definitely made the wrinkles come out). Mid-song Dylan would look up from his guitar or keyboard and smile a big, toothy smile with such sparkle in his eye that you couldn’t help but want to be sitting at his feet waiting for him to give you some grandfatherly advice about life. He was the guy that would pat you on the back and chuckle whilst reminiscing about the old Dylan who gave some of the most difficult interviews in all of music history. Endearing grandpa status here.
- Dylan was wearing a white cowboy hat. And I’m pretty sure there were rhinestones around the brim.
- The younger, Bowie-esque lead guitarist may have been challenging Dylan for the spotlight during some of the numbers, but boy can Dylan still work that harmonica. Joan Baez was a lucky gal.
- I’ll just go ahead and state the obvious: IT’S BOB DYLAN. Who doesn’t think Dylan is one of the most extraordinary, influential people on the planet? Seeing him in person is good enough, even if you can’t understand a thing that comes out of his mouth. He introduced drugs to The Beatles for God’s sake! He’s the poet of all poets. He’s THE legendary Dylan. ‘Nuff said.
Nice post. The “Bowie-esque” guitarist is Charlie Sexton, quite accomplished in his own right.
Great post. One of the many things I like about Bob is his fondness for unusual venues. Minor league baseball parks, gyms, county fairs, old churches, casinos, obscure old theaters in obscure little towns. Anywhere people gather. It’s great.