It’s been 26 hours since I slept.
There is no real reason, nothing major or awful happening. In fact I feel pretty good about many things. We even bought a new car that has the colour of “galactic aqua” I have no idea what that means, it is a kind of blue.
As I realized how kong I have been awake without the aid of chemicals or other things I decided to start listening to Dylan, namely the Real Royal Albert Hall show from 1966. It was $15 how could I pass it up, especially since I have no way of playing the Bootleg Series Vol. 4 as I don’t really have a CD player apart from in the car and I am not sure it works anyway.
So how is it you ask. Well it’s the same track list, I have to admit I cannot tell if the performances are dramatically different, I am sure they are I just could not tell you how.
Well it’s Dylan with most of The Band, Levon Helm was not digging being yelled at all show so stayed home leaving drumming duties up to Mickey Jones. They are under siege to a most politely upset U.K. audience, a palpable sense of disapproval although no shouts of Judas like in Manchester. I can’t help but wonder how an audience these days would display their displeasure, probably watch Netflix on their smartphones instead.
Dylan rambles his way through some classics and some soon to be classics. He mumbles incoherently at the audience in between songs and thrashes about with the band. Its raw and powerful and no wonder he had to take a break after this tour. Maybe it was the drugs, the strain or the negative energy from so any audiences not getting it. Maybe it really was the motorcycle wreck.
A thought I had was how comfortable we are now. Everything is familiar and has already been seen or heard. Musicians have to wear clothing made of meat to shock, all Dylan had to do was plug in and scream into the face of disapproval.
Time for bed, Thanksgiving beckons in the morning…