Recommendations of the Editorial team
My colleague Maik Brüggemeyer, one of the country’s most profound Dylan experts and long-time editor at ROLLING STONE, traveled by train to Lingen in Emsland on October 24th. In the newsletter for the November issue, he noted impressions from the “area” there, which with around 2,600 seats can of course not keep up with the large halls in major cities.
“For financial reasons, I sat quite far back, but I could clearly see the fuzzy head,” wrote Brüggemeyer.
And further from our excerpt from the newsletter report: “The fact that Dylan now opens the concerts with ‘I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight’ suggests that he certainly appreciates an intimate setting. Especially since he let his fingers jump joyfully over the keyboard, laughed loudly at the line ‘Bring that bottle over here’, the guitars swayed along, the bass plucked happily and a little too loudly and the drums tripped alongside. One had the impression that the band wanted to build an Emsland party cellar on the stage. It also fit with the mentality of the region that Dylan mumbled a few lines badly. He performed the subsequent ‘It Ain’t Me Babe’, which revealed a certain fear of commitment, with much more verve (and even introduced it himself with a small guitar figure), while Tony Garnier let his bass gurgle like a river through the song, on which the guitars of Bob Britt and Doug Lancio played like dragonflies danced.”
A snapshot from the province that took on new dimensions on Monday (November 3rd) in one of the largest halls in the country.
Dylan in Cologne: Between icon and shadow
As expected, the Cologne tabloids focused on the Minnesota champion’s strict cell phone ban. The colleagues from the “Rheinische Post” from Düsseldorf also accompanied us with a succinct headline: “Watching Bob Dylan disappear.” The reporter, like others, appeared mildly irritated. It continued: “A work of art or the worst concert of all time? (…) Dylan provided a magical moment at the end.”
In Cologne, too, the master sat almost invisibly behind a piano, facing the stage, hidden in the backlight – an icon that doesn’t want to show itself. Only after a long instrumental prelude did the familiar, unmistakable voice rise: “Turn out the lights, close the curtains,” Dylan sang, “you don’t have to be afraid. I’ll be your baby tonight.” His voice was rough, scratchy, brittle – and yet unmistakably poetic.
In the Deutzer Arena, which was used in the smaller version with around 10,000 fans, it sounded like a parody by a Dylan parodist – and that was precisely why it was more real and immediate, said observers on site.
Setlist and moods
“I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight” was followed by “It Ain’t Me, Babe”, with a long instrumental prelude before Dylan himself came back in and immediately questioned the tender comfort of the first lines. The third piece was “I Contain Multitudes”, a self-description based on Walt Whitman, in which Dylan revealed his contradictory facets as a life principle. Like Whitman, he remains many in one.
Dylan, who began his concert as usual on time for the “Tagesschau”, let his life’s work flow into one another. “There are old footprints everywhere, you could almost think you’re seeing double,” it said in “When I Paint My Masterpiece,” while Tony Garnier, part of the band since 1989, took up the double bass.
At a certain point, Dylan always seemed old and yet also forever young. An eternally touring troubadour who has been on stage for over sixty years and yet was and is never really tangible.
Between respect and helplessness
After about an hour and a half, he left the stage with an unsteady step. And yet one could have imagined that he would return in the form of a young actor like Timothée Chalamet to play the harmonica again, according to the “Kölner Stadtanzeiger”.
The “Express” captured the mood when the overhead light came on again and there was “wild” discussion:
“Arena managing director Stefan Löhne welcomed, among others, BAP icon Wolfgang Niedecken, star director Wim Wenders and songwriter Björn Heuser in a box. Without Dylan, Niedecken would probably never have started writing his own songs. ‘He only does what he thinks is right and is just a weirdo.'”
Then came a very Niedecken-typical conclusion: “One more headlight wouldn’t have been bad today.”
An evening between light and shadow
There were different opinions from visitors in the press: the spectrum ranged from “two lost hours of life” to “brilliant evening”. However, the life’s work was repeatedly referred to with respect.
And: Everyone agreed on one point – it wasn’t just Cologne that experienced a typical Dylan again.
Unique moments – and at some point finally.