The Last Word

After the Bob Dylan concert Friday, Oct. 19, my ears weren't bleeding, as a number of my friends had told me they would be. As relieved as I was that this was not the case, when I left the concert, my mind was definitely reeling from what can only be described as a cultural experience.\nWalking into the concert, I felt that I had fairly realistic expectations. I had heard that the icon otherwise known as Elston Gunnn, Blind Boy Grunt, Boo Wilbury, Elmer Johnson, Sergei Petrov and Jack Frost, among others, was washed up. His glory days, according to some, ended with the general apathy that ensued following the youth activism and the drug-fueled folk festivals of the 1960s. \nStill, after Friday night, it became clear to me that this man still is and will always be rock 'n' roll royalty. And obviously, he thinks so, too. Before Dylan emerged on stage, following a decent performance by Amos Lee and an amazing, crowd-pleasing set by the immensely talented Elvis Costello, the lights went down and the loudspeakers began playing fanfare music along the lines of "Hail to the Chief." Above the excessive, royalty-is-approaching tune, a deep voice announced the entrance of that night's main event, touting his credentials as music legend, substance abuser and born-again Christian/Jew. \nWithout even introducing himself, or at least half-heartedly wishing us good luck against the Nittany Lions the next day, he launched into what amounted to several hours of a performance that was simply and undeniably Dylan. \nAfter years of performing, this man is obviously aware that he is a legend and that nothing he does or doesn't do at his concerts will change that. He barely acknowledged the crowd, and he didn't introduce any of his songs. In fact, even though I'm pretty sure the man who performed was Dylan, I wouldn't bet my life on it. He and his band members, clad in suits and sporting wide-brimmed black hats, bore something of a resemblance to the Blues Brothers. In fact, the hats were so obstructive that I never saw any of their faces. From where I was sitting, when they moved around, I could have sworn I was looking at checkers pieces being scooted around a board. Still, the gravely voiced singer had a sound that was so distinctly Dylan that when he sang -- or in some cases, talked over the music -- I felt pretty secure that I was, in fact, at the right concert.\nSpeaking of, well, speaking, the most talking Dylan did all night, in sharp contrast to the playful anecdotes about Arnold Schwarzenegger that Costello spouted off, was when he introduced his band members. At least, when he supposedly introduced his band members. I'm not sure if it was the years of nonstop performing or the years of nonstop drugs that did it, but I had a lot of trouble understanding him at all. Between myself and the friend I came to the concert with, we can speak and understand a total of five languages. Honestly, though, I'm not sure exactly what language some of those songs were in. Sometimes it would take until the end of a song until we finally recognized which one it was. \nAnother thing that shocked me at first was just how few old favorites the artist formerly known as Robert Zimmerman played. But after mulling it over for a while, I realized it's been about 45 years since he released his first album cleverly titled Bob Dylan. \nThe poor man must be sick to death of singing his songs over and over again. The two signature pieces that he did perform, or at least the only two that I could really recognize, were skillfully reworked so that the melody was hidden in bridges and interludes, while Dylan himself spoke the words over the background riffs being played by his band. \nI did not come to the concert to look at Dylan, which turned out to be a good thing, considering that our balcony-level seats were not conducive to that. In fact, having heard what a disappointment the concert would be -- an assertion that turned out to be completely wrong -- I didn't even come to hear him. I simply came to be in the presence of a singer-songwriter who changed the world with his music. And to tell the truth, that's exactly what I got -- and as, I was pleasantly surprised to find, much, much more.