Last night, the Outlaw Tour came to Cincinnati for its its fifth-to-final stop. Matt Springer was on the scene and reports in:
The Riverbend Music Center is a 20,000 capacity “shed” nestled in a beautiful corner of southwestern Ohio, practically Kentucky. Last night, Bob Dylan and his band played as part of the Outlaw Music Festival. They arrived a week before Megadeth and Pitbull (sadly not together) and just a few weeks after Sammy Hagar and Kidz Bop Live (they dueted on “Poundcake”).
Dylan is 83 years old. Unlike last night’s headliner Willie Nelson, he isn’t supported by a warm, talented, loving family on stage. Instead, Dylan darts out to his piano as much as his octogenarian body will allow, surrounded by a pack of exceptional hired guns, as though actual outlaws had somehow made their way onto the bill and are about to stage a shootout for our entertainment. He’s most recently been gracing the stages of gorgeous old theaters around the world, playing a carefully sequenced set of mostly new material that dances with death; now he offers a combination platter of chestnuts, obscurities and covers for a crowd that’s just paid $12 for a beer and will probably do the same 3 or 4 more times before last call. The crowd’s attention is…inconsistent, to put it kindly.
Why is Dylan here? There may never be a good answer outside the one in his own heart. He’s been on his never-ending tour for decades at this point, with the exception of a COVID-era break. He’s played worse venues; I saw him in the 90s in a basketball arena in Madison, Wisconsin.
The first and most powerful impression from seeing him play last night in Cincinnati was an instant sense of the immediate moment as part of that endless series of stages, shows, and songs. This small man still plays out as often as he can, chasing whatever he still seeks. You put your money down and you watch the river flow, then you go home and sit with whatever you carry away. The show goes on, probably until Dylan keels over at the keyboard.
Springsteen fans compare notes on which songs he played, hoping to “win” with an obscurity amid the more static parts of the set. Dylan fans watch songs transform over the nights, weeks, and years. “Things Have Changed” is almost unrecognizable from the sardonic shuffle that won Dylan an Academy Award; it has sharper edges now, the chorus tossed off over a blunt blues guitar riff. “Stella Blue” was a revelation; there was a guitar figure in the chorus that was so fragile and pretty, it might have shattered in the air. “Hard Rain” was a highlight, flush with accompaniment but also halting and tentative behind Dylan himself, who led the song forward with his vocal.
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