Bob Dylan 991106 at State College, Pennsylvania

Subject: penn state
From: Peter Stone Brown 
Date: Sun, 07 Nov 1999 17:15:56 -0500

There must be some way out of here I thought to myself as
downtown Philadelphia was completely gridlocked and every road
heading West was a parking lot.  ãBig trouble on Philly
highways,ä said the guy on the traffic report.  For some reason
on a preposterously warm November Saturday afternoon, a bunch of
different people in various key locations decided to crash into
each other.  10 minutes later the traffic guy said, ãWhat is
going on today?ä  And I tried all the roads and every shortcut
and no matter where I went I ended up sitting taking almost an
hour to drive what should take 20 minutes.  Finally I made it to
the meeting place in Valley Forge and picked up my friends the
double-D couple who had come from even farther from somewhere in
the middle of New Jersey.  We hopped on the Pennsylvania Turnpike
which prides itself on being the oldest such road in the nation. 
About the only thing thatâs changed since it was built sometime
in the beginning of this century is the price of the tolls and
occasionally the speed limit. This year in the annual truckerâs
poll Pennsylvania came in third for worst roads in the country
only because Arkansas and Louisiana roads have apparently
deteriorated over the past year.

The turnpike was miraculously free of traffic and for the most
part state troopers and my car was in the mood to go a good 15
miles above the speed limit. Stopping at the last rest area we
exited the car where we were playing my more or less ãDylan
Countryä tape which is Self Portrait and Dylan along with other
stuff thrown in in a different order to notice the temperature
had dropped a good ten degrees.  Then off the turnpike for a
short hop on I-83 to the gravel, up-hill wonders of US 322 West,
a mostly two-lane road made out of some sort of gravel material
so every 10 feet the wheels go bumpety bump.  By this time
Dylan-in-Nashville had been replaced by live Otis Redding  and I
was never able to get the bumps to synchronize rhythmically with
the music.  75 miles of this. But it was a nice day and we were
in good spirits.  Soon we were met by the hundred mile Winnebago
caravan coming from the Penn State football game.  ãSerious
tailgating,ä said Mr. D.

And then the caravan ended, but as we got closer there were
Winnebagos everywhere in fields in ditches, thousands of them and
finally there we were in line for the lot with plenty of time to
scope out a space for the all-important quick exit.  We chose the
Winnebago lot.  We got out of the car to find the temperature had
dropped again, about 20 degrees, maybe more.  It was freezing. 
Time to pull out the hooded sweatshirts. ãThe hood is up, donât
talk to me,ä said Mr. D.  In the distance loomed the Bryce Jordan
Center like some great Spielbergian spaceship landed in a
cornfield in the Pennsylvania blue mountains.

ãNever seen no place like this before,ä I said quoting a rambling
gambling evangelistical song traveler, who said the same thing
when centuries ago he played a similar edifice also located next
to a giant football stadium located in the middle of what
everyone knows is the Mafia burial ground of the state where
anything is legal as long as you donât get caught.  Hoods up and
not talking we were more or less blown towards the spaceship box
office as some wicked Canadian wind appeared to make things even
colder.  Obtaining the tickets with lots of time we headed for
the congregation in the parking lot to secretly partake of the
sacred plant.  ãAre we there yet?ä  someone might have said.  ãIf
you have to ask, youâre there,ä came an answer.  We stood up and
all of a sudden we were back in 1968.  Someone had gathered all
the Volkswagen busses that had been in hiding for the past two
decades and plop them all down together in the Bryce Jordan
Center.  Bongos were bonging and drums were drumming and all
sorts of items grey flannel dwarfs would prefer to see banished
were in display in decorated cases like treasures from pyramids
embedded in ice.  There were people everywhere.  Music in all
directions.  Lots of hair.  Dreadlocks, too-long floppy flappy
jeans, a circus-meeting of the tribes.  There must be some way
out of here I found myself thinking for the second time that day,
as from out of nowhere some authority loudspeaker boomed, ãkeep
the passageways clear.ä

It wasnât getting any warmer, so we headed for the great looming
spaceship arena, check out the souvenir stand, hamburgers for
only 3 bucks and into our seats.  The floor is maybe almost half
full, the soundboards enclosed by a fence.  Warren Haynes comes
out to check his gear to huge applause.  Finally the lights come
down and the band comes out, ãViola Lee Blues,ä and Derek Trucks
is immediately noticeable on guitar and Haynes echoing him and
off into some more or less blues-based jam and itâs really okay
and somewhere in the middle they find ãMy Favorite Thingsä and
leave that and come back again  and Phil is right there digging
in and I suddenly realize Iâm really hungry and go out to wander
up and down the lonesome town of the spaceship perimeter âcause I
canât see a thing anyway because the people in the next section
are standing up especially this 7 foot tall guy whoâs not even
paying attention to the show and I donât understand why when
thereâs a whole half a dance floor not being used these people
have chosen to get seats.  Something just doesnât add up here.

Out in the perimeter itâs gotten very strange.  Barefoot guys in
skirts are dancing.  I get a burger and a no-coke pepsi and
wander around. Every ten feet thereâs someone with their eyes
closed moving around in some sort of trance-like circle.  It
seems the same people are passing me over and over again and I
canât figure out how they got around the entire spaceship so
fast.  Security guards are chasing some girl who is totally
ignoring them wandering right back into the seats after they just
got her out.  I suddenly realize Iâm back where I started and go
back to my seat.  ãHe just sat down 10 seconds ago,ä Mr. D. says
and wow, I can actually see the whole stage where the band will
soon be arriving at Terrapin Station and back into Viola Lee
Blues and Mr. D. says, ãItâs called a sandwich.ä And they
actually stop playing and start ãBox of Rain,ä and Phil canât
exactly find the melody but he means it so it doesnât really
matter and they leave and come back and do something else or
maybe they did something else before, but now the lights are up
though theyâre still on stage.  And soon they are rolling away
the equipment and rolling the Bob equipment on.

And soon they take the stage and there he is looking damn fine in
his best riverboat gambler clothes with a Lester Flatt or Colonel
Sanders tie depending on whether youâre coming from a bluegrass
or chicken perspective and theyâre into ãI Am The Man Thomas,ä 
and itâs a fine upbeat bluegrass/gospel thing and Larry
especially sounds a little stronger on it than Bob does and the
lights go down and theyâre taking their time before going into
the Mexican cantina rendition of ãTo Ramonaä thatâs almost a
little too cantina-ish but still okay and the nights go down and
apparently another huddle and before the song starts I hear Bob
play this tiny 3-note blues lick that could mean ãItâs Alright
Ma,ä but they decide to do something else and the rhythm starts
and it could be ãDesolation Rowä or it could be ãVisions of
Johannaä and Dylan or someone is pushing the rhythm and heâs
alternately singing it great and okay searching for that
indefinable place where he can really drive it home and sometimes
finding it, singing maybe half the verses and I wonder if he
picks and chooses from different verses each time he does it, but
Iâm not that much of a statistician.  Theyâre right into ãMama
You Been On My Mind,ä with Larry picking out crystal clear like
water running Doc Watson-ish leads until Bob takes over after the
2nd verse and he kind of seems more into playing it than he is in
singing it and another verse and he goes back and picks up a
harmonica and actually looks at it to make sure itâs the right
one and goes into a really great but two short solo where instead
of playing the usual two note thing heâs been doing lately to
start (like check out the harp on ãTrying To Get To Heavenä on
TOOM for an example), heâs playing some really crazy up and down
stuff, but itâs over too fast and he gave just enough to let you
know he can still do it.

Then into Tangled and again heâs searching for that thing singing
one verse or maybe even a line high and the next one low and on
the ãShe lit a burner on the stoveä verse he hits it and itâs
that moment where he just nails the song right through you in the
that way that only he can do and the show is going by really fast
and itâs into Watchtower with Larry on lapsteel and itâs okay but
nothing really special and another lights-down huddle and the
intro to Just Like Tom Thumbâs Blues appears and this one of
those songs that he really cares about and sings every verse
except ãup on housing project hill,ä getting in his best electric
solo of the night.   And then Shelter with yet another
arrangement, kind of moderately paced which leads to a burning
ãReal You At Last,ä with great nasty guitar from Sexton followed
by the nightâs show-stopper, ãTears of Rage,ä carefully done with
beautiful back-up vocals from Larry and Charlie with Larry
reaching way back summoning the spirit of those Basement
recordings  and especially Richard Manuel.

And then after another huddle, and a fairly crazy intro, they
bounced into a rolling roller coaster of ãLeopard-Skin Pill-Box
Hat.ä  And at the end, Bob lingered on-stage after the rest of
the band had split and turned around to deliver a classic Bob
Dylan-styled bow.

They returned to launch into ãLove Sickä notable for ãtake to the
road and plunderä being changed to ãFeel like Iâm being plowed
under,ä and into an okay ãRolling Stone,ä and then ãBlowinâ In
The Wind,ä and we looked at each other and with 200 miles for me
to drive and another 75 or so for my companions made a quick exit
into the even chillier Pennsylvania mountains night for the steep
downhill drive discussing whether Charlieâs being under-utilized
or not as we cruised by the run-away truck ramps.



-- 
"Where the angels' voices whisper to the souls of previous times." 
--Bob Dylan
Peter Stone Brown 
e-mail: peterb@erols.com   
http://www.tangible-music.com/peterstonebrown/



Subject: Phylan Pitt/Penn State Review
From: Marcus Thunich 
Date: Sun, 07 Nov 1999 23:56:50 GMT

Phylan Pittsburgh/Penn State Review 

The Scene:

The scene outside both shows was very chill. Extra tickets were
in abundance and it would've not been difficult to get in for
below face at either show. The Pitt Civic Arena was around half
full while Penn State was a near sell out. I'd figure the crowd
makeup to be about 50/30/20 % Deadhead/ Dylanhead/ curious folk.

The Shows:

I had g/a floors for both nights and for both shows I was
standing 15 feet from the stage dead center for both bands with
lots of dancing room. This fabulous vantage point provided the
feeling of being in a club (until you looked behind you) and
besides the a+ viewing spot, we also got an excellent stereo mix
as most of the sound we heard was coming from the on stage amps
and not the p/a. Both shows found the floor area to be very
undersold (fire regulations?) and Penn State's floor looked
barren anywhere behind the board.

Phil & Friends- Overall there was some fire (UBC Jam, Franklin's,
Fav Things Jam, Post Terrapin Jam) and also moments of pure
dullsville (Viola Lee Blues, Dark Star, Mountains). More often
then not though, I found myself thinking that they were playing
competently but there was very little of IT happening. IMO, Steve
Kimock's departure has left a gaping hole in the appeal of P&F
and his contributions are sorely missed. Perhaps the bar has been
raised too high for me after seeing three *incredible* shows at
the Warfield in April. Pitt/Penn State certainly aren't even in
the same ballpark as the April shows or even the fab 8/98 ones.
For my money the Pitt show was about as satisfying as a primo
'94-'95 Dead show(very good)  and the Penn State show was as
exciting as seeing Ratdog(ho-hum). Overall, both were fun and
musically decent but failed to raise the hairs on the back of my
neck.

Bob Dylan- Once again Zimmy proved himself to be one the most
exciting and consistent acts in music today. With a song catalog
that speaks for itself and a stunningly excellent band, Bob's
Pittsburgh gig was probably the finest I've ever seen from the
man. Bob was in superb form moving about in his classicly
Bob-like way and pouring his heart and soul into every tune.Where
the rare Blind Willie McTell was played to gorgeous perfection,
the even rarer Cats In The Well raged and rocked. The Penn State
gig though found me harping on Bob's ever present syndrome of
repeat-itis. Why with having such an awesome repetiore to draw
from, does Zimmy decide to play so many of the same songs so
often.? A minor beef though as this night was yet another fine
evening on the Never Ending Tour.

Reports from folks I've talked to who've seen a number of shows
on the tour seem to indicate that Phil & Friends seem to be
slowly gaining momentum with each show while Bob has been the
consistent anchor throughout. Word is also going around of Jorma
now signed to play the final four dates.

Marcus



Date: Mon, 08 Nov 1999 17:38:49 -0500
From: Carsten Molt 
To: karlerik@monet.no
Subject: Penn State review

 As Jillsy and i steered our way into the Bryce Jordan Center parking
lot on Saturday evening, we noticed that there were a lot more Deadheads
there than at the Pittsburgh show. It also became clearly evident that
the crowd was definitely there to party. It was a very young crowd and
the fact that Penn State lost a few hours earlier didn't seem to dampen
their mood at all.

 Phil Lesh and Friends were much better than the night before. Their set
contained among other tunes a great "Terrapin" and a beautiful "Box of
Rain". Derek Trucks was phenomenal again.  At age 19, the sky seems to
be the limit for him and his singing slide guitar.

 Dylan came out on stage wearing his black suit and white shirt. He was
wearing a Lester Flatt tie so far  that i could tell from my center
stage seats. We were kind of far back but after last night, we were
content to be able to sit tonight. They began the set with...

I am the Man, Thomas(acoustic)- The first time i have ever heard this
played. It was nicely played but didn't leave much of an impression on
me. It was very short and over in a hurry.

To Ramona(acoustic with Larry on Mandolin)- This was very sweetly
played. Dylan was singing at a mid tempo pace squeezing the emotion out
of the lines. He added little vocal ticks to the words "your cracked
country lips, i still wish to kiss, as to be by the strength of your
skin.'Î This
is one of my favorite Dylan lines and he nailed it beautifully.

Desolation Row(acoustic)-Even more beautiful than last night. It was
well played and Dylan sang it with the loudest but very tender voice.
This was a definite highlight. Kemper's drumming was very soft and
understated here. His playing was good all night and not nearly as
obtrusive as last night.

Mama, you been on my mind(acoustic with harp)-The mellow mood continued
here. Dylan as balladeer singing to that girl in the window hoping
she'll ask him up. Larry Campbell playing slow sparkling guitar as Dylan
retrieved his harp. The harp solo was slow and sweet. Dylan took
a sweet but short solo that was amazing and could have gone on all night
but he chose to end it short and the band seemed confused by the quick
ending.

Tangled Up In Blue(acoustic with harp)-The first upbeat song of the
night and the Deadheads
were up dancing and  shaking their bones. Charlie Sexton played the most
electrifying acoustic guitar that a human can play. Dylan letting his
voice dance upon the words, sometimes pushing out a few words, other
times letting the lines trail off into the ethers. The band had a full
head of steam going and Dylan broke out the harp and played a pretty
blistering harp solo that reaced to keep up with the music. This was
unusual as the band usually adapts their playing to Dylan's tune on harp
other than the other way around.

All Along the Watchtower(Larry on Pedal steel)- Very quickly played and
the crowd goes nuts and it ends without much jamming. It always seems
cut short to me when it could go on for another minute or two. It was
well played but nothing out of the ordinary.

:Just Like Tom Thumbs Blues-A much better rendition than last night.
Dylan delivered the lyrics with strong conviction and did quite a bit of
leg wiggling. He was obviously immersed in the tune though i think he
skipped a verse.

Shelter from the Storm- oh, God Two nights in a row. An embarressment of
riches Dylan can bestow on us when he wants. There are no words to
describe "Shelter" the way he did tonight.
I'll try to explain it as much as i can with the cumbersome words we use
to describe emotion.
Dylan at the height of his game adding layer after layer of emotion as
the song progresses. The band laying back letting Dylan's voice room to
stretch out and suspend time as if the song would last forever. Larry
playing soft cascading notes in the background as Charlie and Tony lock
into one anothers soft groove. One of those moments where nothing else
matters except the next word, the next line. Soft and beautiful. Dylan
seems to be saying "truth is not loud and aggressive but whispering and
tender." Not just the highlight of the night but for me the highlight of
the 12 shows I've seen.

Seeing the Real You At Last- the intro sounded a lot like the Rolling
Stones "Honky Tonk Woman. It was fast and fiery and a jarring transition
after that heavenly ÎShelter" Dylan was pretty much yelling the lyrics,
spewing them forth with great gusto.  Charlie Sexton playing mean guitar
propelling the song to it's great conclusion.

Tears of Rage-A very fresh and moving rendition. Larry and Charlie
singing in high harmony like a sacred choir. "Oh what kind of love is
this, that goes from bad to worse" Such emotion. Such clarity.  Dylan's
voice rich with love and truth. A real show stopper if there ever was
one.

Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat(Larry on Steel guitar) i was expecting Highway
61 and was a bit disappointed at first but that disappointment turned to
utter delight as the band found it's groove and Dylan leaned forward
with legs splayed and roared through the vocals. During the end jam, the
band musically became one musical entity and sent searing soaring sounds
from their instruments that echoed around the capacity crowd and left
our hearts pounding and our ears ringing as they left the stage.

Encores

Lovesick- Another good rendition of the lone Time Out of Mind track of
the evening.

Like A Rolling Stone - It was well played and a definite crowd pleaser.
Dylan playing with his phrasing a little bit but it didn't make the song
any better or worse. A pretty standard rendition but a little better
than the flat summer versions.

Blowing in the Wind(acoustic)- The crowd was excited but it didn't do
too much for me. This seems like such a rinky dink song to me. It was
o.k. for what it was.

Not Fade Away- i never tire of this song. Everybody dancing and Dylan
smiling and singing great harmony with Charlie and Larry. Full on
rock-n-roll party time.

 Another great night of music. Not as many surprises as last night but
very tight and empassioned playing and of course that breathtaking
version of "Shelter" that was worth the price of admission itself. As
Paul Williams would say "You've got to hear this tape!"
..And after you do, send me a copy.
     Carsten Molt
     Jokerman@bellatlantic.net