OK, I think a brief review of Friday night's Bob Dylan Birmingham NEC gig is in order. First up, I ought to make it clear I'm not a Dylan bore (although, I guess, you shall be the judge of that). I'm not one of those people who can recognise every Dylan song ever recorded within a few notes. So if you're expecting a full and comprehensive listing of the tracks he played, sadly you've come to the wrong place. I only have about seven Dylan albums in total, including the latest one, Love and Theft. I've not consistently worshipped him like many do, but now and again I hear something by him which encourages me to dip into his back catalogue.
Where I think Dylan does stand alone is in the way his oeuvre spans so many different generations. While some individual albums certainly disappointed at the time, looking back on his whole body of work most of them make a lot more sense in tracking the life journey of an artist who, for all his faults, has written more consistently personal songs than just about anybody else you care to mention. His insistence on ploughing his own furrow irrespective of market demands may have often infuriated his fanbase (particularly during his God-fearing phase) but in retrospect this has made for a more fascinating career.
He also earns certain kudos in the fact that, in his early sixties, he's still almost perpetually touring, in addition to delivering an album every two or three years, and some bloody good ones at that. His arrival in Birmingham certainly appeared to attract interest from a wide range of generations, from grey-haired geography teachers to teenage slacker-types.
But was it any good? Well, I enjoyed it. But then, as I'm sure you've guessed, I like Bob. I'm not sure I'd recommend the live experience to anyone ambivalent or antipathetic to Dylan. I don't think there was anything on view that was going to convert the uninitiated. It would most appeal to fans of the new album, because there was a fair smattering of tunes from that, although there was still room for plenty of the old classics like Maggie's Farm, Tangled Up In Blue and Like A Rolling Stone, albeit that the latter was performed with the chilled (well, as chilled as Bob gets, anyway) world-weariness of his latterday recordings. Bob's voice is sounding old and cracked now, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, and he was surrounded by some excellent musicians (his touring band in fact played on Love and Theft). And when things were in danger of getting too bland or mellow he always had a corker of a tune like 'Rainy Day Women Nos 12 &35' to pull out of the locker.
There's always disappointment with someone with such an immense back catalogue to draw upon when he doesn't play some of your favourite songs, but I knew that would happen. There was nothing from 'Slow Train Coming'; 'Infidels' or perhaps more surprisingly, 'Desire'. But these minor gripes aside, it's difficult to begrudge him his privelige to play whichever of his songs he damned wants. Without wishing to sound too much of a fanboy, it still felt a privelige just to be in the company of such a huge talent and being offered a glimpse of the musical history he represents.
Where I think Dylan does stand alone is in the way his oeuvre spans so many different generations. While some individual albums certainly disappointed at the time, looking back on his whole body of work most of them make a lot more sense in tracking the life journey of an artist who, for all his faults, has written more consistently personal songs than just about anybody else you care to mention. His insistence on ploughing his own furrow irrespective of market demands may have often infuriated his fanbase (particularly during his God-fearing phase) but in retrospect this has made for a more fascinating career.
He also earns certain kudos in the fact that, in his early sixties, he's still almost perpetually touring, in addition to delivering an album every two or three years, and some bloody good ones at that. His arrival in Birmingham certainly appeared to attract interest from a wide range of generations, from grey-haired geography teachers to teenage slacker-types.
But was it any good? Well, I enjoyed it. But then, as I'm sure you've guessed, I like Bob. I'm not sure I'd recommend the live experience to anyone ambivalent or antipathetic to Dylan. I don't think there was anything on view that was going to convert the uninitiated. It would most appeal to fans of the new album, because there was a fair smattering of tunes from that, although there was still room for plenty of the old classics like Maggie's Farm, Tangled Up In Blue and Like A Rolling Stone, albeit that the latter was performed with the chilled (well, as chilled as Bob gets, anyway) world-weariness of his latterday recordings. Bob's voice is sounding old and cracked now, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, and he was surrounded by some excellent musicians (his touring band in fact played on Love and Theft). And when things were in danger of getting too bland or mellow he always had a corker of a tune like 'Rainy Day Women Nos 12 &35' to pull out of the locker.
There's always disappointment with someone with such an immense back catalogue to draw upon when he doesn't play some of your favourite songs, but I knew that would happen. There was nothing from 'Slow Train Coming'; 'Infidels' or perhaps more surprisingly, 'Desire'. But these minor gripes aside, it's difficult to begrudge him his privelige to play whichever of his songs he damned wants. Without wishing to sound too much of a fanboy, it still felt a privelige just to be in the company of such a huge talent and being offered a glimpse of the musical history he represents.
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