Bob Dylan 970815 in Holmdel, New Jersey
Subject: Mr. D. Aug 15 in Holmel, a quick mini-review
From: Martin (mgolan@INTERNETMCI.COM)
Date: Sat, 16 Aug 1997 01:46:16 -0700
Just returned from Mr. Zim at PC Arts Center in Holmdel (N.J.) and must
say this:
After hearing tonight's versions of Just Like a Woman, Tambourine Man,
Like a Rolling Stone, Blind Willie Mctell, and another I can't recall,
if I drop dead the instant I hit the send key, I will die a very happy
man.
Actually, RMD is corrupting me. It's the first Dylan concert in my life
during which I did not keep a setlist, rationalizing that I'll check it
with this group, which I am new to, online. Now, too exhausted but too
Dylan-high to sleep, I decide I must post a quick note, to sing the
concert's praises, and I can't remember what he played to put in my
post..
Anyway, I look forward to reading other posts on tonight's concert, but
not now, I have to go listen to some music. I'll start with the Real
Live version of Tangled Up (Oh, that was the other one, but he used the
words from BOTT).
We're so lucky to have the D.
Martin Golan
Subject: Re: Mr. D. Aug 15 in Holmel, a quick mini-review
From: danv (dvaganek@ix.netcom.com)
Date: 16 Aug 1997 14:14:16 GMT
Organization: Netcom
...
the show opened with a superb 'sweet marie'...this song is a great
opener, bob was in great voice, really strong.
a beautiful 'lay lady lay'.
'tough mama' was quite good...solid
'just like a woman' as always, a highlight
'silvio' rocked!
'tambourine man'....beautiful.
'tangled...' as always...magnificent
words cannot describe bob's version of 'cocaine', really nice...
'river flow...' rocking country fire
'blind willie mctell'...stunning!
'pill box hat' rocking blues
the show was very strong throughout. even 'like a rolling stone'
which the last time i heard it (4/13/97) was a shambles, was
truly marvelous.
bob played an incredible harp solo on 'my back pages'...so sweet!
and believe it or not....'RDW' jammed and brought the house down!
the band has jelled and is really tight. david is much more
than a time keeper now. larry is great. he adds so much. bucky
and tony....well....they are their usual great. the rhythm is
very tight and bob, well, all those shows of practicing his leads
is paying off. he was burning it up. he is starting to arrive
at the place he's been aiming for for the last couple of years.
and we were treated to one of bob's humorous asides during the
intros...when he introduced bucky he used the old mayor of west
virginia line and added something to the effect of...'good to
one of those kind of guys in the group'...ha ha ha
only downside of the show was the venue. the sound is terrible
there. very strange for a venue supposedly designed for music.
outside on the grass is the best sound, but it is distant. up
close sounds good, but only because you get the stage sound.
a beautiful summer night too! ani defranco is a real talent.
BR5-49 are truly enjoyable as well. as ani put it, those guys
are too country for country radio...if you go (and you should,
even you hard core bob was only good in the sixties types)
catch both openers....all in all a great evening of music. i took
my six year old daughter...her first show and she loved all of
it. she says to me, 'that girl is really good', but after about
5 of ani's tunes she says to me...'when is bob coming on?'
she's got it over all of us....been listening to bob since she was
in her mom's womb...how many of us can say that?
Subject: Holmdel Aug. 15. REVIEW
From: Zoner13 (zoner13@aol.com)
Date: 16 Aug 1997 19:32:24 GMT
Opening act Ani Defranco , and then Dylan took the stage.
The main problem I had was the size of this place, and all the
consequences. We were truly lucky this spring! I had so-so reserved
seats, but I was along a row, so people were cutting in front of me every
4 seconds to go God Knows Where. (Can't you hold it for 90 minutes when
He is on stage?!!!)
I also thought the sound seemed poorly mixed. Perhaps this is the
necessary side effect to playing to this big of a place, but I'd really
like to hear from people with great seats, down close. How did the
performance compare to other recent shows?
(This show really taught me a lot about how seating assignment can effect
perceptions of a show. Even a bad performance probably SEEMS great if
you're right down there front and center.)
Anyway, enough of my bitching. Here's the show:
SWEET MARIE was a great opener, and the crowd really got into it. More
energy than usual for a first song. (Except for Jokerman in '94, which I
think is a great rocking opener.)
And Lay Lady Lay was really nice. This band is still tight. (And I LIKE
Larry Campbell!) And then the surprise of the night, in my eyes, Tough
Mama. I knew it was coming, from the playlists, but that sound! It
sounded EXACTLY like Planet Waves. (Except for The Voice, of course.) I
was expecting a new Dylan arrangement, where I wouldn't be POSITIVE it was
Tough Mama until he started singing. But it's a great performance of a
semi-forgotten song. It's nice to see Bob pick up old songs and have fun
with them again -- not unlike You Ain't Goin' Nowhere, which he didn't
play. (Damn!)
Then came one of several crowd pleasers in JUST LIKE A WOMAN. I've always
liked this song, and could probably listen to it 1000 times in concert.
He did a pretty good job, it seemed, but I REALLY wish the sound on the
vocal mix was better. The best vocal of the night, I think, belongs to
COCAINE, where Dylan almost whispers the song, (can he sense his words
have been lost in the mix earlier?) -- and there is a nice echo of The
Voice across the crowd. A really great song, and one to cherish on those
tapes. It sounds like that whisperlike singing of Lone Pilgrim or Delia.
(What EMOTION the old man can still blow out those rusty pipes!)
(Another treat was the guitar work at the end of all those accoustic
numbers. It was like a hypntotic swirl. Only after awhile do you notice
-- Jesus, this is really great. I thought the guitar work was the
highlight of the night. Again, I think Campbell and Dylan make a fine
combo. Campbell lays a nice foundation that Dylan can experiment in.)
Another great vocal perforamance was ROLLING STONE, which really had the
crowd rocking. It was about that time when the crowd started yelling out
the words along with Bob (always too soon), and he really got into it,
playing along. (At one point they filled in the words, "Pawn in, babe,"
and Dylan just said, "Yeah," and went on.)
During Rolling Stone, I finally had to admit that maybe this tour is a
departure from what we've been used to (blessed with) in recent years --
the small venues, the intimate sound. This was a rock concert, dammit!
With that it mind, I could quit acting like sour grapes every time
somebody walked in front of me with a gigantic pretzel and beer. I had a
really good time through the other encores (My Back Pages! Wow!), and
even went through the charade of dancing around during the last song --
you know, Everybody Must Get Stoned.
I am going to Jones Beach tomorrow, and am going to leave all my old
memories and preconceptions (Back in my day he played highschool gyms, and
we were front row, blah blah blah) at the door, and enjoy one helluva rock
concert. I'll keep ya posted.
Take care!
Zoner
Subject: Dylan 8/15/97 and the fabulous Hormel show spammers!
From: Small Change (schd@pluto.njcc.com)
Date: Sat, 16 Aug 1997 15:27:43 -0400
Organization: New Jersey Computer Connection, Lawrenceville, NJ
Exhilarating show! As usual Bob and the band were magnificent. Larry
Cambell's electic Bozukie on Blind Willie McTell really sounded clean. I
like his fiddle play'in too, especially on My Back Pages with refreshing
trade-off with Bob on harmonica.
Contrary to earlier reports, I thought the sound was great about 30 rows
back. We sneaked up to the tenth row after Ani's set and listened to the
first 3 songs before getting sent back. The sound was really bad there
and (even though they usually use the first few songs to get warmed up
anyway) Bob and the band sounded much better at our orignal seats.
The weather under the saucer for the first two acts was fit for damp
dish towels, but a nice breeze was blowing half-way through the Bob's set.
The three sirens swaying in front of us were real nice addition to the
show. The swill drinking stick-in-the-mud people behind 2 row behind us
were not having a good time and decided to vent on damsels (3 rows in
front of them, and not even in thier view!) throughout the show. I
finally turned around and said "HEY, TURN THAT FUCKNOZZLE OFF! NIXONS
DEAD" but their brain was bleeding to be a arena heckler so...it
continued, even into the encore where they were the only ones sitting
down! :-(
I just can't see why they think sitting down at a Bob show is considered
their right, or give them the right to make everyone around listen to
their no-fun screed spewed maliciously. I would really like to see
seperate seating for the no-funs in future shows (next to the giant
monolith budwizer adverts, which I believe are silently making past,
present, and future brains bleed)
Really looking forward to the Mann on Wednesday, yeah! Philly's great!
I'm going to the brewpubs first to drink some really bitter
cask-conditioned beer. This time I'll think I'll pass on seeing the other
acts. There were many teenage girls screaming on the beginning of most of
Ani's songs, it added a nice Beatlemania atmosphere to the overall show.
joe
Subject: Holmdel 8/15
From: Jim Guide (jguide@lds.com)
Date: Sat, 16 Aug 1997 17:13:53 -0400
Was on my way home from work when my car suddenly drove to the Arts
Center. Last concert I'd been to was Nineteen Hunerd and Eighty One-
Robert Zimmerman.
Many very sweet young things on the lawn. Thought wow Bob has really
bridged generations, but then realized most of them probably showed up
for that Ani DeFranco person. They sure were pretty though.
When the lights went down for the main act I was hit with a strange
lightheaded wave of something. Does this guy really mean that much to me?
I couldn't tell if the saucer of the Arts Center was gigantic miles
across, or the size of a dinnerplate. No narcotics or alcohol, neither.
For some reason, I've never really listened to Absolutely Sweet Marie.
It sounded like it sounded good, but unless I know the song I can't
really say. So many of his songs I've been almost indifferent to upon
first hearing- & they just keep working on ya untli they're like
self-evidently consummate.
Lay Lady Lay really needs that messed-up perfect voice he originally
sang it in, but it was good to hear it. From where I was he was about
1/3 of an inch big, but I could see he certainly stood like Bob Dylan
would stand. Walked too.
I was happy to hear Tough Mama starting. They played it just like Planet
Waves. The extremely, extremely enticing human next to me really threw
it around on "meat shaking on your bones". So it looks like I'm becoming
an old letch. Well, Bob is too. Just think of his Wilbury's songs. "Ohh
Baby, you're such a tasty treat. But I'm under doctor's orders I'm
afraid to overeat". This girl next to me never even glanced at me while
the college twit she was with just took it all for granted, just assumed
he should be the one with her.
Just Like a Woman. Some songs I really can't hear anymore.
Silvio rocked. Strong chords with cool pauses. The man reworked the
chorus, different phrasing but just as good. It was a quick "silvio"
rather than "silllllvioo". And it was "can't buy back the beat.......of
a heart grown cold" instead of "can't buybackthe beat
ofaheartgrowncold". The drummer, who on many songs was way in the
background, banged it up on Silvio.
Mr. Tambourine Man- I don't know. Can't really hear it. And the man
should've planted his face a few inches further from the mike on the
"Hey!" of "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man". Sounded like a dog getting shot.
Tangled Up in Blue was just great. The band was jangling. The man was
throwing in tons of phrasing tricks but I could sing along anyhow! I
figured his pattern out and just sang it. I felt good then.
Cocaine Blues- I was confused. I guess this will be on the new album?
Had a nice Delta feel, but it seemed to be an I Like Drugs thing.
Someone tell me it's not. I couldn't decode the words other than
"Cocaine, all around my brain".
Coulda been me, but Watching the River Flow was messed, indistinct.
Blind Willie McTell was fantastic, man. They did it full electric. It
was apeshit. Someone said he was singing "But I know one thing/No-one
can sing/the blues like/Blind Willie McTell" The lead guitarist was
hitting clean chords in the coolest way.
Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat started off nicely. First verse and chorus
very funny. But then my attention wandered. Bob's guitar was way up on
the mix and it sounded like he was drumming on one note.
I couldn't believe they walked off then. I felt we were maybe halfway to
the encore. But looking over the lists at 'Expecting Rain' it seems he
invariably does 14 songs a night & Leopard was #11.
Probably me but Like a Rolling Stone was just flung out there. I've
known and loved at least four versions of it, but maybe it's finally on
my Can't Hear Anymore list.
My Back Pages- 3/4 through he takes out the harp. The band quiets way
down and the harmonica achieves true lonesomeness. A breezy summer
night, clouds moving fast across a bright cratered moon, and the man's
harmonica crying.
Rainy Day Women (Everybody Must Get Stoned)- can't hear it anymore, but
they did an extended jam which was pretty good.
Bob was last off the stage, making some sort of gesture like a drunken
pope. Walked off real slow. Within 3 minutes his buses were pulling out.
Seemed like only a business at that moment. We got the cash let's go.
Drove home in my rusted Colt feeling mostly bummed out. But now the
memory of it is pleasin.
Jim Guide
jguide@lds.com
Subject: Re: 8/15 New Jersey
From: Motie2 (motie2@aol.com)
Date: 17 Aug 1997 03:30:20 GMT
Thoughts about the concert at PNC Arts Center 8/15, tenth time seeing
Dylan:
Bob was wearing light colored pants!!!
Nothing like a brush with the grim reaper to revitalize a man.
He was so much older then; he's younger than that now.
I've seen him play more screaming grinning deathshead full bore pedal to
the metal rock and roll, but not better.
Dad is still way out ahead of Jakob, (no surprise there, notwithstanding
Jakob's amazing performance with the Wallflowers on the same stage a few
weeks back.)
The Bucky Baxter Band still kicks ass, and Tony (on bass) astounds.
When Bob and Co. were playing as a band unplugged (amped, but acoustic
instruments) they were even hotter than when they were electric.
Blind Willy McTell was done as a stomp.... and the best riff of the
evening.
The story on Ani DiFranco, whom I had never heard before is: "the men
don't know, but the little girls understand." They started screaming when
she came onstage, knew all her material, greeted each song with delight.
And I've never before seen anybody switch guitars before each and every
song. Her deal seems to be the strong but sensitive and intelligent young
woman who tells the world (and probably men) to fuck off when it/they
should. Good for her. I prefer Sarah McLachlan.
Lo and behold.
Can't wait for the new Bob album 9/30.....
Gordy
Subject: HOLMDEL LOCAL COLOR- FROM 8/15
From: Marvincat9 (marvincat9@aol.com)
Date: 17 Aug 1997 14:11:29 GMT
For those who enjoy a little local color from the shows, I offer my
observations:
The show was mesmerizing, but then again, I'm a follower since the early
sixties who firmly believes "he was never known to make a foolish move".
The set list was great, and the crowd (full house or very near) was really
into it. It was great standing there after all these years, singing along
with Bob Dylan to Just Like A Woman, Mr. Tambourine Man, My Back Pages,
and Like A Rolling Stone. Thirty-two years after "Rolling Stone", I got
chills shouting out "how does it feel" with Dylan and a cast of thousands.
The weather was cool and the sky was clear- it was a perfect night in New
Jersey-,just up the road from Springsteen's old stomping grounds.
His voice is gravelly and rough- but of course that never was important.
His guitar playing (some say-not me) could have been better- but of couse
that never was important.
He was dressed in shiny white pants, shiny black shoes, a blue coat and a
black western tie, which was either untied or poorly tied. He wore a
large bright white hat for the final song, Rainy Day Women # 12 & 35.
During that song, incidentally, he sang only the first verse, and it was
instrumental from then on.
Many in the audience didn't recognize Cocaine Blues, Blind Willie McTell
or Watching the River Flow, which was played like a Dave Dudley truck
driver song.
As noted from previous post-illness postings, Dylan seemed stiff. Not
formally stiff, but physically stiff, like it was really an effort for him
to move around. There may be something wrong with his legs. From a
personality standpoint, he was as outgoing as I've heard him lately,
repeatedly thanking the crowd, introducing the band, and making several
statements, none of which I could comprehend. At the conclusion of the
show he bowed a couple of times, and he made numerous good-natured
pointing gestures to the front rows.
I saw him in Monmouth about a month before he got sick, and, truthfully, I
think he looks much worse now. I believe the illness took a lot out of
him, and he shouldn't have done this tour. By the end of the show he
seemed a little disoriented, not in a drug or alcohol way, but just in an
exhausted way.
A girl got on the stage and hugged him near the end of the show, and did a
little bouncing around, but she was quickly escorted off.
BR5.49 is a talented group and fun to watch. Ani Difranco plays the
guitar well, although somewhat frenetically. I don't like her,
personally, and her set was much too long.
The entire place fell silent when Dylan briefly played the harmonica.
Then applause broke out so loudly you couldn't hear the conclusion. He
obviously did it as a token gesture, and a nice one it was. Could it be
he doesn't have the wind to play it anymore?
All in all, it was another wonderful show from Dylan. We are all very
lucky he's still around and still allowing us to see him. I wouldn't be
surprised if someday, suddenly, he just gets tired of touring and quits.
Catch him if you can- you won't regret it.
Subject: HOMDEL PART ONE
From: (TIMHRK@AOL.COM)
Date: Sun, 17 Aug 1997 15:23:42 -0400
When the sun went, his eyes were sleepy. There were no dreams, no dreams to
haunt him.
F Scott Fitzgerald, The curious case of Benjamin Button, page 180, The short
stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald.
HOMDEL NEW JERSEY
AUGUST 15 1997
SET LIST
ABSOLUTELY SWEET MARIE
LAY LADY LAY
TOUGH MOMA
JUST LIKE A WOMAN
SILVIO
MR. TAMBOURINE MAN @
TANGLED UP IN BLUE @
COCAINE
WATCHING THE RIVER FLOW
BLIND WILLIE MCTELL
LEOPARD SKIN PILL BOX HAT
LIKE A ROLLING STONE
MY BACK PAGES
RAINY DAY WOMEN #12 & #35
I always look forward to Bob Dylan in concert, but this time, considering
that the man almost died this year, the show had a special connotation. Not
only did it seem dubious that it would take place a couple of months ago, but
given his age and the age when most rock stars die, I always got to wonder,
will this be the last Dylan show I see? Sooner or later, there won't be live
Dylan, ya know. The other aspect is that although I have seen two shows of
some tours, this is the first time that I would be seeing the man twice in
the same year, but two different tours. Would this make a difference in the
performance? In the Set List? In his overall mood?
But there was even a more exciting, personal aspect to this particular
concert. I was going with my long lost cousin. Actually, my first cousin once
removed. Annalise. She's about 24, and the we had met in 1982, at her
father's funeral. It's a sad story, since he died young, and when she was
young. I barely remember her as a kid there, and she did not remember me. She
also didn't remember that at the funeral, a friend of her father's played I
Shall Be Released on the guitar during the service. I talked to the guy
afterwards. I didn't know my cousin liked Dylan. Oh no, he said, he loved bob
Dylan, especially that Greatest Hits II record. It was his favorite record he
said, and of course, he was playing that version. I always thought that was
cool. And, I always associate that tune with his funeral.
Fast forward to this year. Annalise - she will neither confirm nor deny that
her parents gave her that name after The Weight by the Band - had written my
mother, who always stays in touch with everybody, that she would be attending
graduate school for poetry and living in New York. So, I soon contacted her
and we had a reunion. What was very strange, unique at least, was that here
were two people who were related by blood, who had no interaction and lived
completely different lives and from different generations, and hell, from
very different parts of New Jersey, yet, as soon as we met, there was this
familiarity that only comes from being related. It was just a cool feeling.
Also, it was great since I could connect with my cousin through her, and she
could connect with her father through me.Well, we've become fast friends.
Also, there was this great camaraderie since we are both writers and
readers. When she told me that she liked the Wallflowers and had not known
that Jakob was Bob's son, I knew it was my duty to expose her to the real
deal. Plus, how can anyone be a writer, especially a poet, without
encountering Bob Dylan. That just ain't right in my book. Dylan be the MAN.
IF it wasn't for Dylan, I would never have picked up Rimbaud, Ginsberg or
Melville, or at least not pick them up when I was a 13 year old reading
science fiction and cutting lawns for $5.00 per then buying Dylan records at
EJ Korvettes, when they went on sale for $2.50.
Luckily I fulfilled my obligation on Friday, August 15th in Homdel New
Jersey, at the Garden States Arts Center. Sorry, I refuse to call it the PNC.
If you never been there, it is a great out door amphitheater, although I've
always preferred the lawn seats, which is what we had, and Dylan has always
put on great shows for his loyal Jersey fans. I caught Dylan here in 91, and
I will always remember the opening number, a rockabilly version of New
Morning, and later in the show, a great version of Folsom Prison, the Cash
tune.
But that was then, and this now and we've all grown. Annalise's boyfriend,
Rich came with us, and although he likes Dylan, he's actually an Ani DeFranco
fan. We were eating turkey sandwiches in the parking lot during the BR-549
set, which sounded a wee too country for my taste.
Otherwise, the weather was perfect late summer cool and the crowd seemed
pretty nice, although I wish they were more attentive or something. Again,
there was a nice array of generations there. College kids were talking about
orientation next week and baby boomers were talking how much they paid baby
sitters. In fact, several parents had their infants and toddlers. One of
them crawled up to me and said hi. I held out my palm and the child slapped
me five. "Stay for ever young buddy," I said as the mom scooped up the kid.
"That's a Beautiful baby," said Analise. The mom said thanks and smiled.
There was a nice mix of age groups, lots of baby boomers but also, more and
more young folk. Teenagers and twenty something's. Retro hippies and yuppie
wanta bees, just all kinds of folk, really, out to have a good time on a
summer night.
I passed a neat scene where this one young woman was on her back while one
girl massaged her right hand, another girl massaged her left hand, and
another girl, her knees nestling the nape of her neck, massaged her temples.
I made a mental note. Next concert, get accupressure before the show.
It wasn't quite dusk when DeFranco took the stage, her acoustic guitar
backed up by simple bass and drums. A trio, how nice.
Ani Deefranco impressed me. Thought provoking and entertaining and a welcome
addition to Dylan. She plays raucous folk music, a kind of angry Michelle
Shocked or some inspired marriage between Courtney Love/Hole and Suzanne
Vega, and she certainly owns more than a few Patti Smith records. She had
some great songs, with some well placed vulgarities. Played some neat guitar
as well. Sort of Joey Ramone meets Richie Havens. Or lets just say she
strummed as quick as Joey but utilized those distinctive open tunings of
Richie. She also worshipped at the altar of Joni Mitchell's Heijera. But
she's her own artist and I believe I will pick up some of her records. She
had a significant following at the show, lots of women squealing at her songs
and her interesting stage patter. Very compelling, very good set. A well
deserved audition. Rich, the resident De Franco fan, dug it a lot and sang
along.
By the way, her T-shirts were cool too, and I only bring this up because
Bob's T-shirts were kind of lousy looking. Better tour shirts next time BOB!
OKAY! Anyway, Defranco's Dylan's best opening act since Patti Smith of 95 and
Ole Bob should have done the right thing and if not done a duet with her,
brought her out to sing back up or something.
Well, Defranco accompanied the setting sun, after twilight faded and dusk
became night the Columbia recording artist announcement came on and Bob once
again hit the stage. Those fucking bastards at PNC didn't have the video on
so we were denied the pleasure of seeing Bob on the screens. But he looked
pretty good, in a black waist length jacket and grayish slacks. Boots of
course. You get a really decent view from the lawn seats.
Sweet Marie had a nice country rock lilt to it, and owed more than a little
to the version the pre-throat-lump George Harrison treated us to at the
Anniversary show. Dylan was in a good voice, and I have to admit, I
experienced a wonderful thrill of pleasure hearing it again. I mean, it's
always great when he hits the stage and tears through the opener, but I
couldn't help but think, I am verifying that he is okay. Did my heart good.
Welcome back Bob. Unlike Joey, he gained not lost a little weight. But it
looks healthy.
The band was in fine form, although the drums were mixed a bit high. Garnier
was leading us through, and as he did through the whole show, his tasteful
bass stylings proved to be the secret leader of the band. Bucky was on pedal
steel, which he played during the electric numbers, and he gave that white
gold mercury sound of Blonde on Blonde to this number. Hey, it's one of my
favorite songs, and when Bob sang To live outside the law you must be honest,
it was like, he's back, he's bob. Let's get down.
Unfortunately, a bit of personal nastiness then ensued. As I enjoyed myself,
reveling in this great opening tune, I heard this irritating rattle. Some
moron was playing the tambourine. It sounded like a loud and retarded rattle
snake. I couldn't believe it. As the opening strains of Lay Lady Lay emanated
across Holmdel I marched over to this hideous looking woman, grossly
overweight with the worst looking crew cut ever and I said, "Hey stop playing
that fucking tambourine. You're ruining the music."
"Why don't you move so you don't have to hear it."
"I am all the way over there and I still hear it. Go out in the parking lot
and play your tambourine."
"I want to play it."
"We don't want to hear it." I am beginning to shout. "I paid to hear bob not
you."
"I paid too."
"Stop playing it. It's annoying and inconsiderate." We exchanged some fuck
yous and she tried to provoke me further by rattling that tambourine like
some evil mad gypsy. I could have clocked her and stopped her, but if she
tried to sit on me I knew I was dead.
Actually, I just had to walk away cause I was getting pissed and upset. I
have never seen anything like this. What the hell is wrong with people. Who
the hell brings a tambourine to a concert? It was loud too, and she was not
even playing in time. I mean, if you can't play the tambourine, you may want
to not play music at all, ya know. But, like why do you want to do such a
thing in the first place? This is not a football game for Christ sakes. It
wasn't New Years Eve. I swear, I have never seen such a thing, not at Ramones
shows, not at Dead shows, No where. I've seen fights in the audience, people
get rowdy, people shout or boo or sing along or yell out Whipping Post and
Hot Tuna, but never in my concert going life have I ever seen some crazy,
ugly insane pathetic excuse for a human being display such disrespect for an
artist as well as the rest of the audience. This one incident almost ruined
the entire evening for me, and certainly colored the concert somewhat. It
makes me sick just to recall it. Some other people must have complained,
because the tambourine stopped. I should have gone to security or something.
Anyway, Lay Lady Lay was pretty good, except I began to notice something
about Bob's voice. Oh, he was articulating well enough, but his voice sounded
raspy. Well, not raspy in a hoarse sort of way. But Flemy. Since 94, as Dylan
improved his singing and phrasing, when he would pull out a Nashville Skyline
nugget he revived the vocal qualities of the country yodel of that period.
But tonight, it was just not there. I couldn't help but think that
Histoplasmosis had some lingering effects. Dylan's voice seems different
every show, but I swear I could detect a little more fluid or something. It
wasn't like he wasn't doing the best he can, but I just think that his recent
illness may have taken a bit more of a toll than we realize and that this
tour may not be good for his physical health.
But his mental and artistic health seems pretty prime because he was showing
his growing predilection for blues licks and that gave an interesting edge to
Lay Lady Lay.
Then we heard the familiar drums and for the first time in a long, long time
the third song was NOT AATWT. Instead, it was my favorite all time song from
Planet Waves. Tough Moma. Now, I did want to hear the harp, because he does
blood curdling harmonica on the original of that one, but that aside, it was
great to hear this song. The band did a great imitation of, well, THE BAND.
However, it was a little ragged, which the group was a bit all night. It's
kind of a funny song in the weird breaks and it's stop and go funky type
arrangement, and I have to admit, the song sort of fell apart at places. Then
it was on the money again, and MEET ME AT THE BORDER LATE AT NIGHT. Oh, that
Dylan yowl is so singular, especially on the greatest lines.
I agree with a previous poster's suggestion that this song Dylan is doing in
honor of Defranco.
Then Dylan picked out the familiar opening notes of Just Like A Woman. This
also had a bit more of a bluesy edge to it. Funny, there were two married
couples pushing 50 to the right of me, and two gen-x couples half their age
in front of me. Both sets were smoking a little reefer and drinking some
beers. They weren't together. Just two different parties a generation apart.
And during this classic, they were all making out. Deep kissing and feeling
up. No matter how old you are, no matter if you are living with your parents
or are parents, a little of the wisdom weed on a midsummer's night enhances
romance. Folk rock is the thinking lovers make out music.
Silvio came next. Always a crowd pleaser, and the loyal and ever present
contingent of Dead heads, who were in force and present through out the
crowd, twirled and shimmied and danced to the fast breaks and rocking tempo.
Personally, I've heard better Silvio's, but tonight's was all right. Dylan
though, whose guitar quoted Garcia in recent versions instead seemed to be
playing homage to Duane Allman as he singed away some competent riffs. But
the band seemed somewhat shaky on this number, and he didn't fill up the
pauses between the breaks like he has in concerts past. But how can you not
enjoy a song with those great couplets - I go down in the valley to sing my
song, sing loooooooouuuuuuud and sing in strohhhhhhhhnnnnnnng, let the echo
decide if I was right or wrong. He also extended this jam out, and the band
did seem to enjoy the playing.
The crowd, lead by the Garcia faithful decked out in their summer tie dye,
erupted as Tony saddled up the stand up and Bucky brought out the mandolin.
The song sounded familiar, yet different and Mr. Tambourine was resurrected
and reinvented. This time, Dylan played it like a blues number, and the
joyousness inherent in this optimistic poem became a deeper meditation on
mortality. It was like Robert Johnson reciting Blake. A hellhound chased this
Mr. Tambourine Man down to the beach of crazy sorrow. It was probably the
best performed song of the evening. You know, I've heard this one done a lot
of times, and like most of the classic classic Dylan songs, it's not one I
look forward to, but I got to admit, that darn Dylan, he does it to you, he
keeps you guessing, he keeps you on your toes and just when you are used to
one thing, he does it another way and you find something you had previously
overlooked. I thought about that famous piece of Rimbaud folklore, where the
37 year old has been poet returned from Africa, burned out and exhausted,
disease ridden and leg amputated, raved with delirium on his death bed his
sister Vitale by the bedside and later, after she had read her brother's
poetry, said the things he was saying on his death bed were better than his
poems. Dylan was close to death two months before and something he learned
then, he brought to this song and gave it another dimension I never imagined
before. Mr. Baxter enriched this deep indigo, even morbid mood with some of
the most heart wrenching mandolin riffs that ever escaped the smoky mountains
and dark hollows and reminded us all of our own mortality.
After the song, a distinct pause was heard from the crowd, because we had
witnessed another sublime transformation of a classic. Dylan had torn apart
the pedestal, replaced it with relevancy. "Thanks everybody" he yelled to the
thunder of applause and cheers.
The mandatory Tangled Up in Blue followed. Sounded a bit rushed, Dylan
mixing up the I's and he's so much that the narrative thread was completely
deconstructed. Again, it's Truck Driver's wives. How come, the mathematicians
remain, but the carpenter's wives are no longer around? Also, the audience
didn't applaud when he sang, heading towards another joint. What was up with
that? This particular burst of applause I've always found charming. This
audience I found less than endearing. There was a good amount of pot smoking
in the crowd, so I fully expected the tradition of applauding when he sings
heading towards another JOINT would be held up. But nothing! Come on!
However, I glanced over at Rich and Annalise who were grooving to this. "I
love this song," Rich said. "They used to play it all the time on the radio.
I remember hearing it with my parents." Sure, I may have heard better
TUIB's, but it's always good to hear. Out of all the classics they get played
each show, I think this is one that sounds the freshest, and he really only
has the electric version and this acoustic one. It's such an FM song I
suppose, and the crowd certainly loved hearing what has become an anthem
about love in the time of social chaos.
Then the next chords I thought might have been Tomorrow Night or some other
dark folk song, and I was sort of right except that it was Cocaine, with
Dylan giving some great blues picking and a real sad wisdom in his voice,
with Larry Campbell doing a compelling back up vocal on the chorus. Cocaine,
all around my brain. Dylan did some nifty phrasing, cocaine's for horses and
not for men, doctor say it kill but he didn't say when. The audience is
singing along with the chorus. People know this song pretty well. Didn't
Jackson Browne do a famous cover of this one? But Dylan stayed true to his
folk roots by resurrecting this one, yet also showed how these forlorn
mediations on death and mortality and the human condition are intrinsic to
his art and vision. I couldn't help but think that his recent brush with
death inspired the inclusion of this one. The playing, and the phrasing,
even with the flemy raspy phrasing, echoed with a knowledge of the roots of
this song, and most folk songs. Life is suffering and death is inevitable and
joy is fleeting.
Cocaine concluded the acoustic set, and reinforced the morbid and
introspective tone Dylan was weaving through the show. Maybe it was because
the drums seemed mixed pretty loud, but this was the most rocking acoustic
set I've heard. But blues rocking. Even the TUIB leads Dylan played were
edged with blues notes.
Watching the River Flow seemed a bit rushed through to me, and instead of a
Sun Session, it sounded more like Live At Filmore. Dicky Betts had replaced
Scotty More. Dylan flubbed a lot of lyrics, and you could hear a lot of
bronchial congestion in this one. It was still fun and rollicking, but it was
like a lot of songs this evening where the band kind of didn't find
themselves until mid point, and they seemed a little ragged and shaky at the
beginning but saved it by the end.
Another array of blues notes seared, and the band began a slow but hard rock
melody. Then the voice, a little garbled but still DYLAN, intoned. "Seen the
arrow on the doorpost. Saying, This land is condemned - All the way from New
Orleans - To Jerusalem - I traveled through East Texas - Where many martyrs
fell - And I know no one can sing the blues - Like Blind Willie McTell. WOW!
Now, this bothered me about the audience because most of these dolts are
looking around at each other like what song is this. I was jumping and
howling with sheer joy." See them big plantations burning." He is singing
pretty clear, at least remembering the lyrics. "Hear the cracking of the
whips. Smell that sweet magnolia blooming. See the ghosts of slavery ships.
This was a great version, and the raggedness of the band, the emphasis on
blues, that permeated the entire evening really enhanced this electrified
reading of one of Dylan's finest songs. The morbid bitterness of the evening
seemed complete.
"Thanks everybody," and then he does the band intros, which he mumbles
through but not without a sincere exuberance. He said something about do you
like my jacket, I just bought it at the shore and I think I remember Baxter
being introduced as an old man from west Virginia. Then it's Leopard Skin
Pill Box hat, blues going a little honky tonk. A chick jumped on the stage
and hopped around a little. It was just a concert capper, to let us breathe a
little light after the dark night of America's soul was invoked by the
previous tour de force.
Subject: HOMDEL PART TWO
From: (TIMHRK@AOL.COM)
Date: Sun, 17 Aug 1997 15:24:41 -0400
I noticed something when Dylan shuffled off the stage. He, well, shuffled. I
mean, his gait seemed a little weakened. I am not saying feeble. He's, well,
walking like a 56 year old who was only a month or so out of the hospital.
Maybe it was just a stumble over a wire or something, but I noticed a lack
of spryness that has never seemed apparent before.
He let the crowd brew for a few minutes before returning and thanking the
band again. The drum intro signals Like A Rolling Stone for the encore. It's
a competent rendition, more nostalgia than relevant anthem. But there was
nice guitar wall sound going on, with Larry, Bucky and Bob all strumming away
with bob departing the 18 string pack to pick out a tasty lead. The crowd is
into this one big time. At one point, Dylan sings, You better Take your
Diamond Ring Down - Then leaned away from the mike and the crowed echoed "YOU
BETTER PAWN IT BABE." And Dylan screams a hearty YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH into
the mike. Always good to see Bob in a good mood. Oh hell, maybe the crowd is
not such a bunch of dolts after all.
My Back Pages followed. Again, this was a blues version. Crimson flames, tied
through my ears, growing high and mighty traps coming out like a soft and
mellow delta number. USING IDEAS AS OUR MAPS. Larry has switched to his
violin, and it sure sounds sweet.
It is always kind of an odd juxtaposition
to hear Bob sing this one at age 56, I was so much older than, I'm younger
than that now, although the great imagery of this early, beat-inspired
thought dream is such beautiful, visionary poetry. I always get the feeling,
it's a young folk singer who was becoming disillusioned with social protest
and had just read Rimbaud's Illuminations for the first time. I was also
thinking of that famous F.Scott Fitzgerald short story, The Curious Case of
Benjamin Button, which is about this son born to (IRONICALLY ENOUGH), an
owner of a hardware store, who is an old man at birth and an infant in old
age. It's a funny story, a departure for the Gatsby author because it dealt
with a mystical theme. But it's an interesting meditation on aging, and what
it means to be young and old in terms of consciousness, and this song, which
has always dealt with similar issues gained another dimension because of the
bluesy approach, the morbid theme reverberating throughout the show, and the
very introspective mood Dylan seemed intent on expressing.
He was singing it,
within the constraints of his voice, passionately. Then, Larry does a nice,
subtle, fiddle solo that would be the envy of Vassar Clemens. Just, real
expert and tasteful. A perfect passage of fiddling. Yet, Dylan, who had taken
off his guitar during the solo, went up to the microphone and just seemed a
little too eager because he didn't really wait for the solo to complete
itself, just sort of cut off the last of the notes, and played his harmonica.
I think we all had accepted that OLE Bobby would not be playing harp tonight.
It took us by surprise. First, there was astonishment, then a Richter scale
smashing explosion of applause. We were all so glad to hear it. Let us not
forget, the harmonica is trademark Dylan. He brought that sound to the top
40, and it will be forever associated with folk rock and lyrics equivalent
to literature. After the applause, there was a chilling silence as we
witnessed the playing. There was a sincere hush, that was more than just
surprise, but was inspired by the loveliness and authority Dylan played the
instrument with. In 95, Dylan was playing the harp with such a forcefulness,
doing several extended solos throughout the show, and in shows before that,
the harmonica always made an early appearance and stayed on stage and when
ever those first notes whistle out the Hohner we applaud the classic audio
imagery of America's troubadour with the harp. Ahh, but the days of the
harmonica holder are as gone as Jerry or Richard Manuel or Howie Wyeth. Dylan
just doesn't play the harmonica like he used to; he still plays it well, he
still plays it better than almost anybody, but I think, physically, he just
can't play it like he used to. There was a frailty and fragility to this
solo. But it was a nice, long solo; not just a brief appearance. It was the
guest of honor tonight, and although the time was short we made the most of
it. Dylan used that fragility, and it truly completed the death meditation he
had provoked all evening. I was close to crying. This was a beautiful solo,
and maybe this would the be one I will remember when there are no new set
lists to post. The harp playing, more than the song from which it emerged,
made us all silent, It touched us all. This was absolutely one of the most
poignant concert moments I have ever been privileged to experience. I just
think Dylan knows that physically, he can't play the harp like he used to,
and he was using that inescapable fact to add dimension and meaning to the
playing. The strategy was successful.
There was an audience wide gasp when he
put away the Hohner and picked up the acoustic guitar, and then the tears and
the cheers and the clapping just roared and roared and we all were singing I
was so much older then, I'm younger than that now and no one could ignore the
absolute profundity in the air.
"That was great harmonica," said Rich.
"It was like I could hear it in my bones," said Analise.
I was rubbing my eyes. "I know I've seen better, but this is one I will
remember I think."
That was it. Just those few harmonica licks would have been worth the price
of admission. The solo was simpler powerful, devastating, damn near
overwhelming. The only thing left was to play the Everybody Most get stoned
thing and get on down the road. So they leave the stage and return and we
hear that high school marching band drum riffs. Dylan's in a white cowboy
hat. Hey, no hat tonight at all until now, and his hair looked full, almost
afro-ish. But now like the Pied Piper from some beatnik dude ranch, Dylan was
wearing the cowboy hat and leading a big PARTY. It's a good version of Rainy
Day Woman, and everybody is chanting and cheering and dancing and twirling
and it's like his Bobness taken us down a pitch-dark tonight, a rite of
passage thick with ashes, we have seen the vision of death, the escape from
decay, the pain of love, the repression of the south, the dubious and fragile
threat of mortality, danced on that border late at night where faith meets
doubt and doubt meets faith and we've returned enriched and wiser and had
gone deep enough to know we've been there but smart enough not to stay and
out the other side we came, it's like that old saying about to reach new
places we have to lose sight of the shore, but Dylan brought us back to the
shore and it was time to shake our ass and celebrate that return. It's kind
of reassuring, to hear this so overplayed song, concert after concert, after
90 plus minutes of never before heard songs and versions, new twists on
familiar themes and lyrics and arrangements. Rainy Day Woman, for better or
worse, is something to depend on. Everybody must get stoned is a double
meaning of course. Getting high, or literally getting stoned - executed - are
one if not the same. It is always nice to hear, even though I usually head
out, but it's such a nice night and there's so little summer left. Funny when
the song ends, Dylan is the last to leave. He like shuffles along the stage
for a bit, doing several bows to the audience. Alas, our brief hope for a
spontaneous encore ended and the concert was over, and the lights soon went
up bright signaling that it was time to go.
On the way to the exits, we pass this fountain. It's a nice enough fountain,
but the water is nearly green. Kids are wading through and the cops and
security are screaming at them to get out. The water is practically green in
this fountain. How stupid are people getting?. I am sure they are now being
diagnosed with hepatitis. Between the tambourine elephant witch, the
lackluster appreciation of Blind Willie, and overall atmosphere, the audience
just bugged me a bit more than usual. I guess reading the news group every
day you get to thinking that everybody with any sense had already left town
and become a Bobcat, but it ain't so.
Otherwise, I feel compelled to compare this show to the Wayne New Jersey show
of April. Perhaps, the best way to put it was the Wayne Show was the best or
one of the best of that spring tour, for this tour, with a different set
list, Dylan deemed to play the best show somewhere other than New Jersey. It
was a good show, pretty solid in most aspects. They played well, but they
weren't on top of their game. Also, he seemed more introspective. And despite
the morbid nature of many of the songs and the deliveries of those songs, Bob
was in a happy mood. He wasn't cranky about things.
Which leads to me think, why? Yes, maybe Bob & Co. were a wee off. On the
other hand, while Bob has gotten through his illness okay and we thank the
lord and all that, suffice it to say, he did not pull through unscathed. It
has affected him spiritually and physically. The spiritual aspect is certain
one of survival, and a deeply profound acknowledgment of mortality,. but the
physical aspect is just one of age. Hey, The GREATS, all played well into
their old age, and they still had it, and they may not be able to show they
have it for as long, but certainly they show they have it AS STRONG.
On the way to the car, Rich said he liked Tangled Up the best and the
harmonica solo. "That's Dylan, the harmonica." He also was happy to see Ani
De Franco. I would have to say, if this was a battle of the band night, Ani
would have won, but only by a hair.
Analise was equally impressed with the show. "Dylan is America, and I could
see that. I also loved the moms holding their babies up to see him.."
"Those babies are going to tell their grand kids they saw Bob Dylan just like
you are going to tell yours."
One more issue. The Absence of AATWT. In a way, I didn't miss it. Time to
retire it. On the other hand, that song in its number three slot always
seemed to KICK the band into gear, and the band was good, and there were many
highlights to this fine performance, that eternal guitar anthem and work out
was replaced by Tough Moma, a harder to song to GET perfect, and it lacked
the ability to KICK the combo into gear. Hell, it's just a theory.
I spent the next day on the beach. The beautiful Jersey shore. I kept
thinking about the Harmonica solo, how it reflected that Dickenson line about
Death, because I could not stop for Death it kindly stopped for me. I headed
for the ocean and dived into the white capped curl of a wave and tried to
figure out why Dylan like great literature often fills me with me both Joy
and Sorrow and no need to reconcile the all too apparent contradiction.
Subject: Holmdel review (LONG)
From: Stasia (A_Karel@ACAD.FANDM.EDU)
Date: Thu, 28 Aug 1997 10:43:36 -0400
Rather than write a review of the Holmdel show (8/15) in the days
after, I opted to let my thoughts settle. After all, when one gets to see
someone as great as Bob Dylan twice in three days, it certainly has an
effect on the mind. I came away from the Hershey concert declaring it the
best I'd ever been to, and this still holds true in my mind. Throughout
that concert I was in a most jubilant state - which most likely stems from
Bob's presence on stage. However, come Holmdel two nights later, I was
under the impression that I'd feel the same way. And as you may or may not
guess, I felt incredibly different.
I realized at once that this concert was different - and as I wrote
in my notes at the time, there was something missing. _Absolutely Sweet
Marie_ just sort of happened; there was something preventing me from
enjoying the song the way I had at Hershey. The same thing happened with
_Lay Lady Lay_. Only during this song, I was analyzing my situation and
trying to figure out what was causing me such discomfort. There were three
major differences that I noticed in comparing Hershey and the PNC Arts
Center. One, the seats that I had were much further back (Hershey=row 6;
Holmdel=Sec. B, row F). Two, the amount of people - definitely twice as
many, and too many of them were in front of me. Three, this being the
second time seeing Bob (but, I rule this as the least likely).
Anyway, on with the show. By _Tough Mama_ things were a bit better, but I
was still feeling weird - although that could have been due to the heavy,
acrid smell of pot in the air. I think it was during this song that I just
kept saying to myself, "Oh Bob, why does it have to be like this?" It was
one of those too many other people are fans and why can't I be the only
one.
_Just Like A Woman_ was totally unexpected and was done just right - not
too slow or fast. But all these songs went by so quickly. . . probably
because I was silently criticizing the crowd rather than tuning them out
and listening. On to _Silvio_, which prompted lots of dancing in the
aisles. Not much to say, although my notes say that the last verse was the
best.
_Mr. Tambourine Man_ began the acoustic set - and in my mind was not done
very acoustically, but hey, he's Bob and can do anything he wants to. This
song got better as it progressed, but it could have been better. It was
definitely a crowd pleaser, with Bob accomplishing more knee bends.
_Tangled Up In Blue_ (another crowd pleaser) I had heard at Hershey and
only really listened to hear if he used identical phrasing, which he did.
Although, my notes say that his voice sounds great - and I sure it did.
And now for the moment that I began to feel better. I had already heard
_Cocaine_ at Hershey, but was so happy to hear it again. It's such a sad
song, but was truly acoustic and done in such a beautiful way. But of
course, when I at last have a contented smile on my face, and at a very
slow, yet moving point in the song, the stupid guy in front of me (who was
obviously high) stands up and yells, ruining the moment.
I am not very familiar with the song _Watching The River Flow_, but by
closing my eyes and plugging my ears, I was finally able to name that tune.
It was a good, rockin' song, and I could tell that not that many people
knew what it was.
Having only heard _Blind Willie McTell_ a couple of times, I really only
knew the line "But nobody can sing the blues like. . . ." And so once
again I closed off my ears in order to hear the words better, and that's
when it hit me. I had finally, after so many songs, discovered the secret
behind enjoying this concert. So I closed my eyes and kept my fingers in
my ears and just sort of swayed to the song. I forgot all about the crowd
and just listened to the music. Now, over a week later, I see that I
didn't need to keep my eyes on Bob all the time (as I had done at Hershey).
I knew that he was up there; it was the music that was the important part
and not so much the guy singing it. Anyway, it was a very touching song,
and afterwards Bob thanked the crowd - but I lost him after that. He
started rambling/mumbling about something and I caught a few introductions
of the rest of the band, but couldn't keep up with what he was saying.
_Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat_ was next, and it was so very, very good. I
knew the secret and just listened and everything was perfect. This was the
last song in the regular set, and Bob was the last to leave the stage. (So
unfortunate that I discover the secret so late into the show! Oh well.)
(encore)
_Like A Rolling Stone_ could have very easily been the highlight of the
show, but it wasn't. Yes, it was so great to hear it and I was just
swaying back and forth eyes and ears closed to the crowd. But then, then
something terrible happened. I honestly don't know what could have been
worse, Bob collapsing on stage or the crowd singing the words in his place.
Yes, it was that bad. He was obviously alright with it, but how could he
do this to me?? I mean, I don't have any problem with people singing along
- I do it all the time - but to have the crowd take Bob's place. . . it
just isn't right.
_My Back Pages_ was next (though it took me a little while to figure it
out) and I was rather excited that Larry was playing the violin. So, you
all know the story, I closed my eyes, and so on. But then my dad starts
tapping my on the shoulder and I grudging get out of my trance to see this
stupid girl up on the stage. And it was just as the song was getting
really good. I guess I really don't like audience interaction or
something. But Bob looked happy, so everything's okay. Now, I don't
remember if I then went back into my trance or not, but it doesn't matter.
I think I did, because I recall my dad notifying me again of something big,
and this time it was definitely worth the notification. The appearance of
the harmonica!!!! Oh how simply wonderful it was to hear/see Bob play it.
After a minute of watching him, I went into my trance, for that was really
the only way I could hear both the violin and the harmonica. Looking back,
I suppose that the harmonica was the definite highlight of the show.
Now for a little explanation. After failing to get a set list at Hershey,
I was determined to get one at Holmdel. (I also missed getting a poster at
Hershey, but bought one before the show at Holmdel.) Anyway, after Ani
Difranco had finished - a long, long time ago at this point in the review -
I had decided to plan my route to the stage after the show was over. Since
I was in the middle of the row, it all depended on getting from my seat to
the aisle.
Okay, so _Rainy Day Women #12&35_ is that oft repeated last number.
Luckily, everyone was standing, so I left my dad and friends and made my
way out to the aisle. Easily done. As the song progressed, I slowly moved
down to the crucial point of usher-mania. I guess that I should have tried
to get as close as possible while the song was still going on, but I waited
and as soon as they were done I started towards the stage. I didn't move
more than a few feet when this usher is suddenly upon me asking to see my
ticket. I fumble to get it, wasting a precious minute. Of course, she
tells me I have to go back to my section, and so I act like I'm going to do
just that. But I don't dare give up so easily. I make my way down another
aisle towards the stage, fighting through throngs of people going in the
opposite direction. At last, I get to the stage. I squeeze through the
people waiting there, but alas, just as I get there, I see what appears to
be the last set list being given out. So much for my planned
aggressiveness. Oh well, maybe next time.
Last words: It really was a great concert, especially the last half. And
it was the first concert that I'd seen outside of Hershey, so it was
probably the crowd that annoyed me the most. But, dismissing everything
else that I previously said, it was Bob, the one and the only. And nothing
can ever ruin that fact.
Stasia
"This place don't make sense to me no more.
Can you tell me what we're waiting for, senor?"
