Excellent gig at the Usher Hall last night!
Bob was in very good voice, and his harp playing the best I've heard for a
few years. His piano playing was pretty good too, I wonder if he's been
taking lessons! The whole band was on form; better than last time we saw
them in Lyon last year. Perhaps it's because the guitarists (who were
relatively new then) have had more time to "gel" and become more
familiar with the numbers; perhaps it's the addition of Jim Keltner,
who's fabulous! The pairing of Tony Garnier and Jim Keltner makes an
excellent rhythm section; they play really well together. You could see
the two of them getting together at the start of the numbers to set the
pace and rhythm, especially the first few numbers - the gig got off to a
great start with Watchtower followed by It Ain't Me Babe. Jim K's
drumming transformed Desolation Row! He played a very fast paced driving
roll right through the number, amazing. Not surprised he had a rest for
the next one! Bob's adventurous reworkings of his old numbers don't always
work well, but they did last night, including Watching the River Flow,
even though I didn't recognise it till the last line of the first verse! 
A very enjoyable gig. PS Good to see Frankie again, busking outside the
venue before and after the gig, and getting a very good response to the
old Dylan standards which he performs so well. Check him out on
theboband.com.

I didn't want a repeat of being too tired to enjoy the show in
Liverpool, but i didn't manage to get any sleep until about 7am. I woke
up an hour or two later, feeling like my country had been pulled out from
under me. But I was in Scotland; my friends and family at home would be
asleep for hours to come, so there was no one to commisserate with, and to
worry about how much trouble we were in (given that our country had just
elected a man who promised to really crack down on people like my family).
When a tv was showing the news people expressed disgust, but otherwise
seemed to be just going on with their day. It wasn't THEIR election,
after all. Theirs turned out a lot better. I couldn't decide whether I
was glad to be away from it all or if I would feel better back with
friends and family. 

I wandered over to the National Museum but couldn't focus, and ended up
back in the churchyards, looking at tombstones with carved images of
people dancing on skeletons and naked babies playing with skulls. At least
the tombstones still knew how to party. 

What do you when you don't know whether the world is flat or round and
you have the worst taste in your mouth that you ever knew? Going to a Bob
Dylan concert is about as good as you can do, I suppose. 

But viagogo still hadn't been able to get me the tickets I'd ordered.
They kept telling me they'd contact the seller, and if I still
couldn't get the tickets a few hours before the show, they'd get me an
alternate. I tried to just walk around the city more - going in the
opposite direction of the "nice, but too touristy" Old Town I found a
more residential area, with a cafe called Throat Punch where two large,
lazy dogs sat around on the leather armchairs and regulars chatted
amiably. That was nice. 

Around 3 viagogo conceded defeat, then sent a link to select an alternate
ticket, but there were none to pick. I had to get the refund, and wander
to the venue, where I stood around with one finger up in hopes of finding
one for sale, facing a distinct chance of not getting in. It was a
dizzying swing from one of the best nights ever to one of the worst. I
must have looked like one forlorn sight. Some friends from the night
before came to offer hugs and good wishes, and to say "At least you're
going to Wolverhampton," which I understand is a sentence that people
certainly don't say very often. I've noticed that people here talk
about Wolverhampton the way Americans talk about Gary, Indiana. 

Finally, by checking the box office every five minutes, a ticket was found
- and a better one than I'd had, and for far less money. So I had that
going for me. Which was good. And it happened with enough time to scarf
down a burger, the first food I'd really been able to eat all day. 

Bob again opened the night playing guitar on the first two songs with his
back to the crowd before turning to sing. He seemed tired. Everyone in the
band did, really. One shouldn't try to read too much in Dylan's
reaction to current events by his mood (though I spoke to people outside
who based entire global conspiracy theories on cover song choices), but
there was a good chance everyone in the band had been up all night with
election results as well, and this was definitely not a night when Bob
would be described as "all smiles" or "having a blast." There were
few little humorous asides, and less standing to sing than previous
nights. 

But tired or not, he gave the show his all. "False Prophet" roared,
and Bob continued to put a Spanish-tinged, Bossa Nova-"ike cadence on
"Masterpiece." (Well, maybe it isn't Spanish-tinged at all, really,
but that's the image I got in my head from the way he was singing - some
old "Music of Spain" record that you find in a thrift store bin. Maybe
it wouldn't make sense for anyone else.).  Great harp on Masterpiece, as
well.  There was a particularly menacing "Black Rider," and a killer
"Rubicon." "Desolation Row" had the crowd on its feet - great
piano and harp. And oh, that "Baby Blue," with Bob wailing and
bending notes to the "new" Shadow Kingdom-like arrangement, which is
nearly solo piano and sheer vocal gymnastics. I needed someone to tell me
to "strike another match, go start anew" this forcefully tonight. 

"My Own Version of You" continues to seem like a work in progress
lately. Both Bob and the band seemed to be looking for a new groove to
hit, and would occasionally touch on one, but then it would fall back
apart. Of course, sometimes these "not quite there" versions are
fascinating to watch: we're seeing the creative process in action. The
"least good" performances can still be the "most interesting." 

My seat was the first I'd had that really gave me a chance to see
Keltner in action, wearing his shades the whole time. It may have just
been me being able to see him, but he seems to be getting more creative,
especially with the use of the cymbals. And, as a non-drummer, this may be
like one of those things where the most impressive tap dance moves are
actually the easiest, but the barrelling drums on "Desolation Row"
seem like they'd be  a real edurance test. After it's done, he might
need a break - in the new, sparse "Key West," which was more tender
tonight than last night's insistent version, he mostly sits sipping from
a cup, only adding the tiniest of cymbal towards the end. 

"Watching the River Flow" has been pointed out as a highlight on this
leg, but I found it as just a good version compared to when it was an
opener and often seemed like a warmup. I heard better versions
occasionally (Milwaukee 23 night 2, Austin 24 night 2), but it was solid. 

There were some moments of levity. "Black Rider" featured a rueful
laugh ("Every step of the way, HEH HEH - another stumbling block.")
After "My Own Version Of You," he said "Tony Garnier on bass.
Tony's brought a lot of things to life. Lot of PEOPLE." 

After "Made Up My Mind," Britt began playing the riff to "Jimmy
Reed" instead of "Mother of Muses," then stopped. In a tense second,
people chuckled, and Britt took off his hat and fanned himself. After
playing the correct song Bob turned and looked at Keltner, who shrugged. 

"Mother of Muses" was excellent, and "Jimmy Reed" was one of the
better outings I've seen, though the mic didn't seem to be working the
first few lines. After it, as the first notes of "Every Grain" played,
Bob said something that sounded like "We could play here every night,
actually. Maybe we can come back." Perhaps it was a comment on not
wanting to go back home after the election, but to just play here every
night from now on, and perhaps it wasn't. But I know I'd spent the day
walking into places and thinking "What if I just stayed here? Think they
need a Chicago historian on staff?" Maybe I can get a job as a baronet. 
(Later tapes show the Bobtalk, in fact, was "We could play here every
night, actually. Maybe we ain't going back," which is hard not to see
as a statement.) 

"Every Grain of Sand" is an automatic highlight these days, but on my
watch recording I can hear myself saying "wow" after multiple lines,
and the crowd applauded after each verse. In a trend I'd noticed
lately, the house lights seemed to stay down for a long time after the
band left the stage. 

Was it just what I needed? Well, I stiill feel pretty crappy this morning,
but it was just what I needed for a couple of hours, and I finally got
some sleep. I have another day in Scotland ahead, and then onto Nottingham
and the rest of the tour. It's the wonderful thing about being a Dylan
fan - I may be thousands of miles from home, but I'll always be with
friends, and I'll meet new ones every night.