It was just one of those shows, to me at least. Just one of those you can
always come back in times of need, just reliving and hanging onto some of
its instants that end up engraved in both your vision and mind. We were
seated upfront at the far left seats area, had this image of Bob with one
of the side lights shining on him and his hair-head the whole time, this
theatre-like atmosphere recreated in that big, quite impersonal venue, as
opposed to the beautiful Somerset countryside and its lively, colorful
audience, while in Tinley Park the crowd seemed literally sedated when
John Mellencamp took the stage. I mean, I only knew his opener from the
previous night and I already knew that you're supposed to sing along "but
I ain't got no friends!", and people last night answered him with utter
silence, at least around us; Mellencamp cracked up a corny laugh XD

However, he and his craft started lifting the crowd's energy and by the
second half of his set all was headed in the right direction. From our
seats, we couldn't see the mannequins-puppets standing at the back of the
stage, which was a pity. The last songs of Mellencamp's set were stellar,
I'd say everything was a bit more locked than in Somerset, but again it
was only my second time seeing or listening to the man.

Instead, it was my 98th time seeing Bob, oh my. It's true that at one
point you start not caring about numbers, but seeing it written makes me a
bit proud (and also ashamed out of my own obssession) and looking forward
to quite some many shows ahead in the coming moths. First of all, I'd like
to share a piece of advice: for sure you'd be told to seat at a theatre,
but in these Outlaw shows people takes it easier and even if you're the
only one standing around they usually don't bother. Apart from being able
to dance and jump and cheer the joy out of yourself, there's an important
bonus: being standing prevents you from hearing the chatter, so it ends up
being also a defensive movement as an attentive member of the crowd. Last
night I only seated in 'Mr. Blue' and 'Stella Blue' and in a way I wish I
hadn't done it because I had some talkers around and were a bit
distractive.

The one thing that stood the most last night compared to the first show in
Somerset was the sonic and musical enhancement I felt, as if the band
really picked up speed, trying to match the cosmical lenghts that Bob's
singing reaches. While I could agree with some of the critical comments on
that regard in Somerset, Tinley Park sounded to me super textured at most
times, nuances of hardcoreness or softness coming back and forth, the
guitars in some points were entrancing to say the least, and Keltner's
drums followed Bob in the high and low roads, in the tenderness and the
house of death, Bob himself punctuating the night with some of his good
piano frenzies. I read some things about how in a good mood Bob was in the
Outlaw shows, and in Tinley Park I felt that to the greatest extent, with
the uplifting harp in 'It Ain't Me Babe' to start with.

I'm still waiting for Bob to get right the first verse in 'Silvio' as for
these first two nights the first audible sound of his voice has been the
chorus already, so third makes the charm tonight Bob, GET IT RIGHT, I know
you've seen better times but who has not, huh? As some of you with the
musical knowledge that I lack have said, last night's 'Silvio' was a more
regular take on the song, while in Somerset it was really weird and
menacing, in the best of ways, so let's see how (if it) progresses. 'It
Ain't Me Babe' was such an incredible surprise, I definitely wasn't
expecting it at all, and while the crowd was quite engaged, on our side I
was surprised almost no one cheered or sang along the "no, no, no"s,
because Bob strenghened them so, so much, he stressed so much the hell out
of those two letters that it was even commanding us to join him. 'Shooting
Star' is a song from a static viewpoint, while 'It Ain't Me Babe' is from
a moving or departing one, the swap to me made a lot of sense. I felt this
kind of dissociating moment in which I couldn't believe I was there,
witnessing that, just one of those moments in one of those shows.

Being unaware of most, almost all, of the Outlaw news, and being the show
so different in nature of what I was expecting in Somerset, that first
show forced myself to rearrange the pieces of my own expectations and I
was wondering how that might translate in the coming shows. Well, let me
say this: in Tinley Park I had a feeling this is a concert that, at first
touch and glance, it can only make sense to hardcore fans, us hERe for
example, or really open-minded audiences. The setlist structure is a
mistery, there's no hanging point like it was in the R&RW shows, where we
had almost an entire album as the core, now covers, deep cuts, somehow
recent tunes and a few classics succeed in a progression that time travels
a lot, sometimes turning Bob into a child playing with his unborn memory
backwards and sometimes declaiming and setting hymns up in the broken
stones of time. Sysyphus reincarnated, he makes it to the top just to fall
back, forget everything and try again and relearn it the coming night,
like in a way I feel I do too.

'Hard Rain' hit me like a freight train. In Somerset it hit hard because I
was aware it could be played but I didn't know when, but last night the
performance itself caught me absolutely off guard. I don't remember if in
Somerset the drums sounded so much like a march, even a militar march I
would say, turning the song, plainly put, into an hymn. And it shattered
me, because I understood that, as Willie Nelson sang later, if they cut
the tree, he'll come back AS a song. More than six decades later, the
blue-eyed son, the man that IS travelling light (adjective and noun, not
verb and adverb) is slow coming home. In fact, the hymnesque 'Hard Rain'
came to a halt at one point midsong and Bob started singing pretty much a
cappella, repeating the "poet that diet in the gutter" verse twice, and
then letting his all self get carried away an insufling all his intentions
in an impromptu, even danceable, rhythm (a bit similar to a great 2013
rendition in Irvine) that picked up speed and made the world start
spinning again, whole band coming in on a whim, putting the song above
time and spice, and tears come to my eyes now as I remember how I, and
others around, started singing our song along with Bob. God, I'm so eager
to hear it again tonight.

As I said, I was a bit on my own standing and dancing and loosing it but
I'm a very self-aware person, so when the gentleman at my right, who up to
that point had been quiet and 'motionless', started fist pumps, raising
fingers and loosing it to during an epic 'Things Have Changed' I worried a
bit that, yup, he was making fun of me (thought about the "many people
laughing" line in 'Hard Rain'), and then the chorus came and it made so
much sense I chanted to the top of my lungs "I'm out of range, I used to
care, but things have changed". And I meant it, and the connection I felt
with such a full plugged, aflamed take on the song was off the charts, it
was the stuff that makes life worthy, simple as that. After the song, the
gent and I fist bumped, another lady passed by and we did the same and,
yeah, happy to have helped to pass on some energy by our section, it
really was such an amazing night.

I sat down for 'Stella Blue' and I cried a bit when Bob sang the last
verse in such a magnificent way, raising it volumes, going the extra mile,
to make it clear, so all souls can see it: "It seems like all this life
was just a dream". The light shining on him, on us too, it looked like
just a dream, and it breaks me the unbearable duality this idea contains.
Some day, we'll wake up into the eternal darkness. Fortunately, I still
have 'Six Days on the Road' to go.

By 'Simple Twist of Fate', I had a positiveness within me that I was
having one of my favourite nights with Bob, that I would have the
temptation to label it Top 5 or something, and then he performed this song
that is such an elevated, revved up, expressive sum up of lots of the
images and places that populate Bob Dylan's songs. "The sun was coming
up", sang as he sang it last night, is not only a cosmic description, but
also a time-frozen instant that, in the right context, is at once an
optimistic and a devastating statement, right at the moment when things
begin and end, the wolf's hour but a little warmer. Are the waterfront
docks Duluth's? My mom, seating next to me last night at the show (feeling
a bit of cringe about me XD), seating next to me now in a train St.
Louis-bound as I write this, was born in '58. She could have avoided this
with a simple twist of fate. Maybe that's what got me so emotional, maybe
it was just how gorgeous the song was, maybe it was the light on Bob, but
I started crying, standing on my own, crying the s**t out of me, tears
rolling down my cheeks like it only had happened to me other couple of
times during a show, a feeling in my gut, my throat stuck, I cried for
good. Then, as the song was ended after Mickey Raphael's and Bob's harp
and piano gorgeous, playful solos, I took some tears out of my eyes and
started clapping with my hands full of tears, and I felt true power in
that unintentional gesture, I felt as if I was putting those emotions in
motion, working with them, welding, morphing we both. Yup, just one of
those shows.

I was not alone in the semi sing along of the choruses of 'Ballad of a
Thin Man', and Bob went fully bad actor in the delivery, enlarging words,
mocking these strange times and us crazy people, and I could see Doug
Lancio ripping off his guitar in such an amazing solo and also dancing
while doing it, and I felt so happy for him. I hadn't forget my telephone,
but I have a full own recording of last night in my mind, and not only
that's good enough for now, but it's mine and mine only.

Bob did quite a lot of self-comments during the songs, specially in
'Things Have Changed' (thanks Early Roman-King for pointing out afterwards
this exact moment, and thanks for everything in fact), when after "I'm
trying to get as far away from myself as I can", Bob spitted an absolutely
audible: "EASY...". Any day now Bob, any day now.

Just returned home after catching the Outlaw Music Festival Tour on
Saturday in Tinley Park and Sunday in Maryland Heights. I will just share
a few memories and recollections that have stuck with me after traveling
back home.

It was really a blast from the past, to have a surprise song show up in
the set as It Ain't Me Babe did on Saturday night, although I don't
think most of the casual festival fans even recognized the song.

The last time I saw Bob and the band was April in Austin at the apparent
end of the American run of the Rough and Rowdy Ways tour. As has been
mentioned here before, the vibe at these festival shows is a complete 180.
But I believe that Bob's voice continues to get stronger. I have never
heard his voice sound better and the band rocked out several times. I
enjoyed it every bit as much as the RRW shows in April, although for
completely different reasons in a completely different setting. It also
seemed that Bob was having fun.

As someone who has been a huge Willie Nelson fan even longer than Bob
(1975 at age 11 I got into Willie, and at 14 in 1978 I got into Bob) I
have to share a few comments about Willie's Chicago set.

First, the Chicago crowd was on their feet for almost his entire set and
the love that was emanating from the crowd to Willie was palpable and I
could see on Willie's face that he was feeling it too.

I was surprised and concerned when Willie walked out alone, without Lukas.
But I could see quickly that Willie seemed to be in much better shape than
what I saw in videos of his performances from the first couple of legs of
the tour. He seemed to be breathing easier and his singing got stronger
throughout his performance. Of course, he doesn't play today like he did
when I first saw him in 1984, but his performance was incredible for a
91-year-old artist. I was happy for all of us who got to experience his
performance and especially so for Willie.

The most powerful performances of both nights

Mellencamp - Longest Days

Dylan - Little Queenie, Hard Rain, Can't Wait, Baby Tonight, Thin Man
(especially in St. Louis when Mickey Raphael stayed on after Simple Twist)

Willie - Last Leaf (THE performance of both nights), Still Not Dead,
Write Your Own Songs

I have to say that in spite of all the circumstances that should work
against me enjoying these types of shows, I have to say that I had a great
time both nights. I found it incredible that these artists so deep into
the autumn of life could give the kind of performances they did on these
nights.

Michael Nave - michaelnave64@gmail.com
Austin, Texas