See copyright notice at Bob Dylan 960422 in orono, ME

Date:    Tue, 23 Apr 1996 15:12:57 EDT
Subject: Orono 4/22

Last night was awesome, I must say... I was pressed against the stage for
the entire show, and it really is such a completely different experience to
be that close to the action.  He was right on, the band was tight, the
lastest in a nice long line of great shows, and tonight is still to come.
     It's fascinating to make eye contact with Bob Dylan, even for the
briefest of instances, and to see how he moves around and whatnot from
such a short distance.  It made me realize how those with a less grounded
grasp of reality than most can take it a little too far. I could see certain
people along the front who gave me the creeps at times.  Not most of them
by any stretch, of course.  Most of them were my friends from school or
people I knew having the time of their life, dancing and yelling and having
a grand old time.  It's just that there were a couple of people who I
experienced as being so possessive of the moment and Dylan.  I understand,
to a small degree, I mean, it's wierd knowing that the majority of the people
at the show have Greatest Hits and maybe Desire or Freewheelin', or just
are there for the experience. NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT, though, as long as
they are enjoying themselves and listening to a great show.  But some people
don't feel that way and are quick to show it. Whatever...
Anyway, here's the setlist, though I think I'm missing a song:

Drifter's Escape (sans guitar, blowing harp and bending down, pacing)
If You See Her, Say Hello (again, no guitar, awesome)
I Don't Believe You (this is where he looked at me and shook his head up
and down, and I peed myself)
(For the life of me, I can't remember)
Silvio (nice pause on the guitars at the beginning of the chorus, sort of
a musical lag time effect while Dylan continues to sing, different than
the December Boston shows)
Mr. Tambourine Man (beautiful as usual, pristine vocals and guitar duets
with JJ)
Masters of War
Friend of the Devil (my first time seeing it, killer, Deadheads in the
audience, my friends among them, in bliss)
Tombstone Blues
Ballad of A Thin Man
Seven Days (this was amazing... It may have just been me, but I swear when
the light is just right and he bends in to yell "Seven Daaaaaaays" or
"Theiving in the alley, fighting in the valley, danger every inch of the
way" you can see his face look ghostly, gypsy-like, and it's 1976 all over
again- of course that would make me three)

Alabama Getaway
It Ain't Me, Babe (there was this attractive sorority type girl front and
center pressed against the stage, and Bob is singing "It Ain't Me.........."
looks right at her, says "Babe." all short and curt with a little glint
in his eye and she loses it and I laugh hysterically... so funny...)
Rainy Day Women...

It's really pissing me off that I can't remember that song in the first

Oh yeah, if you've read this far, here's a great story: My friend Matt
was unable to go last night because of a library project, but he is
going tonight... On the way to the library he makes a swing by the MCA just
to check out the action... it is a little before 8 so nothing is going on.
As he walks by the side of the building, a voice from right outside the
door by the shadows says "Got a light?"  He says "Sure" and reaches over,
handing the lighter to.... yep, Bob Dylan.  He of course is flabbergasted
and speechless and stammering, and Bob asks "Are you going to show?"  Matt
tells him no and says that he is going tomorrow night, though. Bob says
something to the effect of "Cool." or "Alright" and stands there and smokes
his butt, which was a Marlboro Red if you were wondering (I asked). Matt
watches him smoke his butt and Bob heads back inside, leaving Matt to go
to the library with no one to tell until this morning...
Yeah, I was pretty jealous, too, but it's a great story, and true, too!

Looking forward to tonight,

Date: Wed, 24 Apr 1996 21:41:08 +0100 From: Ben Taylor (bptaylor@LAGUNA.DEMON.CO.UK) Subject: 22 April 1996 - concert review (fwd) I am posting this on behalf of someone who has quirky Net access. Or do I mean 'on behalf of a certain quirky someone who doesn't have Net access'? You be the judge :-) Ben -- REVIEW: 22 April 1996, Bob Dylan. First Dylan concert ever, this after 30 years. What follows is not so much a review as a series of impressions. Opening act Aimee Mann one of the slightly edgy female pop singers so much in fashion these days. Understand that at one of the Portland shows she cut her set short, because no applause. Here, with a largely-student crowd determined to have a good time, well-received. Half an hour of well-crafted pop/r&r tunes, one idea per, her playing lead electric bass! To quote Leaadbelly, "I love to see women dance." Fifteen minutes or so breakdown and setup. Was that a late quartet over the p.a.? (Why do music venues feel they always have to play *something*?) The smell of insense told me we were getting close. Open with Drifter's Escape. Bob thin, tired, no chin, little emotion, but concentrated. His stage mannerisms are almost, well, *mincing*. With the lightweight white jacket he's wearing, and the high way he carries his shoulders when he's sans guitar, he reminds of a moth, especially later with all the back-and- forth of the encores. Crowd down front on the first song. This later leaves them in the absurd situation of having to dance to "Masters of War!" Oh well. JJ's role "problematic, as someone, perhaps John Howells, opined? Maybe it's the action of that suggestion on my brain, and only that, but I say *yes*. Dylan seemed annoyed with JJ at times, and their mood never seemed to quite fit. All very professional, of course, but I think I see a tension there. Will JJ be gone soon? There's more than a little rock 'n roll posturing going on here, espefcially evident on Alabama Getaway, Rainy Day Women, and Watchtower. Nothing wrong with that per se, but it's all taken a bit too seriously. I had the feeling of watching a man drowning, in this case in adulation and the need for "bella figura." The acoustic band portion were, for me, the tightest and most interesting. Mr. Tambourine Man, unexpectedly, was gorgeous -- strong musicianship, great vocal dynamics. Masters of War was taut, hard; one still winces when he says he'll stand over the grave "til I'm sure that you're dead." Other ramblings: someone in the crowd shouts "Give us some NEW Dylan songs" to no effect. (I think this was right before "Seven Days!"). If he sang "my beauutiful comrade from the north" in "Seven Days," I missed it. "If You See Her Say Hello" seems to lack some verses. "Just Like a Woman" and "Ballad of a Thin Man" are especially savage, as though he could remember exactly why they were written, or has acquired new reasons for snarling them. Out to the outside after two hours, fifteen songs. A light rain during the concert has freshened and cooled the world. A long hurtle home after midnight, window down, raining, the smell of the thawing earth, and spring peepers in the headlights. Alone with my thoughts. I wonder what kind of trap we're in now, watching all the little signs, the variations in set lists. We're rather like the old Soviet watchers, watching for cracks, for shifts. Will we have more insight than anyone else when the wall tumbles. I think of that picture of John Hurt the old blues man, sitting in a station, his guitar in its case, on his way to the next town, travelling light. Will it ever be so with Bob? Can he stand any more to be alone? --

Tour Dates Calendar Expecting Rain