Review by Howard Weiner
Donnie let his trumpet blow as I caught my first Beyond Here Lies
Nothing. Love Sick was a thrill in the sixth hole, and Charlie’s
crackling leads made If You Ever Go to Houston delectable. Dylan was
prancing around and jiggling behind the organ (first three songs he
was on the electric gee-tar). Dylan swaggered to the center of the
stage, harp in hand, and delivered an animated lead-singer production
of Workingman’s Blues. He waggled his finger at the crowd as he
preached the chorus, demanding his boots and shoes. Thunder on the
Mountain was wild and wooly, Sexton tore it up. Staring at Thunder
Mountain in Sedona for two days, I looked forward to seeing Thunder,
but also realized the show was about over. Dylan wrapped up his brief
fairground outing with Ballad of a Thin Man and the same old encore
trifecta. Concert over at 8:30, it was obvious to this observer that
Dylan had to adhere to a time slot restriction. It was a shame because
he had his mojo working.
Review by Tyler
So what's the complaint? Well, I was at the show a week earlier
in Berkeley, which seemed to be of a higher rank than this one.
Last week, Bob played a lot more harp, seeming to just jump in for
some unplanned solos, as well as moving around the stage frequently.
And last week, the new band and level of musical commitment from Dylan
was a surprise, while I expected as much this week. Even this
night of music, with a handful of spine-tingling moments, left me
wanting more. I mean, geez, if I am this jaded a week after one show,
it explains the multitudes waiting for Dylan to return to his
folksinger form of the the early 60s, or the thin wild mercury music
with The Band, let alone the multiple musical personas worn in the
decades since. So unless you are the type who is able to always hear
with new ears, just stop reading this - stop trying to anticipate, and
just go see our musical treasure.
Thunder On The Mountain