From my view in the balcony, Bob's head kept disappearing into the
background of cymbal-stands.  I found myself piecing my own version of him
together from familiar cues -- outstretched leg, a certain kind of
head-jerk, and mostly that halo-frizzy head.  Flashes of the sixties
Dylan.

The sound, especially on vocals, was pure and intimate-sounding in the
Berglund.

Songs that promised to lift the show to a higher plane were False Prophet,
My Own Version of You and Rubicon.  False Prophet has new, powerful
swelling instrumental parts.  Dylan's singing was so gutsy on Rubicon. 
Someone called out after a verse and Bob raised his arm toward the source
in a nice connecting moment.  The excitement faded though.

Tony Garnier got a big conductor-like gesture between songs, which I
interpreted alike play f*cking loud! or something to that effect.

My favorite part of Give Myself to You is the muted guitar solo toward the
end.  This night it seemed just too subtle, didn't work for me.

Key West, a tricky high-wire song, came across with more confidence than
in two previous shows I've seen, a fine version, marred only by a
memory-slip during the last beautiful verses.

Dylan shouted out to Roanoke's own Wayne Newton, "Mr. Las Vegas."  Then
came Every Grain of Sand, with a lush harmonica solo.

The few steps he took away from the piano seemed halting, but Dylan's
voice, originality and spirit soared.