Here's an old review of one of the very, very few never
to geuinely let you down.
First came a musical intro that was so over the top iconic - combining Superman (Zarathustra not Kent) with the Common Man-that it was more goofy than ironic,then a promo one that epitomises everything he allegedly hates. And then finally came the man in the long black coat. Looking like a halfway house between Dustin Hoffman's Ratzo and some confederate general all dressed up for war but so messed up on hooch that he never made the battle, he launched into Drifter's Escape, a good ominous Senor, a rocking God Knows, a messy It's Alright Ma and then the first bit of musical magic of the night: Love Minus Zero. To get the Point Depot to pin drop intensity is quite a feat. But we were almost instantly back on the same reverential terrain for the inspired, if unrecognisable, Boots of Spanish Leather. Dylan had the big barn in the palm of his hand. And more so than Saturday night he started visibly enjoying himself as he juggled his way through one spellbinding number after another without ever letting the ball drop. Every Grain of Sand was shiver down the spine celestial. The unexpected rarity of New Morning was as life enhancing as the song's subject. A masterful mood flick came with the mournful "T'il I Fell in Love with You." And just as you thought things couldn't get any better: Visions of Johanna. A bemused band and a grinnin' Dylan then took the emotionally devastated crowd through a stomping elongated version of Highway 61 that was by far the best revisiting of this stalwart that I've witnessed. Standing centrestage, flanked by his awesome bank, Dylan then took the rapturous applause while doing a bizarre shadow-boxing like shuffle. And then he was back again with Don't Think Twice and a great, griity Hendrix-like Watchtower. Harmonicas in hand, the chuffed looking old geezer treated us to another round of his shadow-boxing before making his exit. The lights stayed low... but then came on. Unlike Saturday, where he bestowed Forever Young on us, he didn't do the Irish encore . But, hey, you couldn't complain.
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