Bob Dylan at 3 Arena

Thursday 11 May 2017

                I’d imagine most people attend Bob Dylan concerts just to ‘see’ the songwriter whose work is an indelible part of the wallpaper of their lives –  and thanks to my wife’s binoculars, I am able to get a close-up view of the seventy-five-year-old Nobel Prize-winner, looking spry in black shirt with white flower trim, matching pants, cowboy boots and wide-brimmed hat, as he steps out onto yet another stage, yet another time.   

                But this is also a brilliant work-out for a fabulous band and its veteran leader. The tumbling swing sound with steel guitar and thudding drums has been Dylan’s favoured style for over a decade and is used to memorable effect on ‘Duquesne Whistle’ and ‘Long and Wasted Years’ and to perfection for rollicking versions of ‘Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right’ and ‘Highway 61 Revisited’ (the highlight of the evening). If it wasn’t an all-seater concert, people would be dancing.

                The gig takes an intriguing turn whenever Dylan moves from the piano and takes centre-stage, to sing some of the vintage standards he covered for his last three albums.  Holding the mike stand at an angle, his hand touching his hip, he performs ‘All or Nothing at all’, 'Stormy Weather', ‘Melancholy Mood’ and others, to the spectral backing of the band, crooning agreeably and hitting every note.  As well as injecting variety into the set (the brevity of these ballroom classics is a welcome change from the typically lengthy Bob originals) their inclusion is also a reminder of Dylan’s place in the pantheon of great American songwriters.

                There are some frustrating moments - his complete abandonment of the tune of ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’ feels perverse, ‘Desolation Row’ with inaudible lyrics, quite pointless – but this is an artist whose career has been defined by his steady refusal to give the audience what they want.  It’s the reason why, over fifty years into his career, every release and concert is the source of eager anticipation.  

                As usual, there is no interaction with the crowd, his playing on piano of the first few bars of ‘Fairytale of New York’ the sole acknowledgement that he is in Ireland, and the gig ends on a downbeat note with a fiery rendition of ‘Ballad of a Thin Man’. Is this revival of a relic from the ‘hippies versus the straights’ era a comment on the proudly know-nothing current president?  There’s no telling with the ever-enigmatic Dylan who disappears into the darkness as inscrutable and fascinating as ever.