Last Saturday night at the
Americanarama Festival at Riverbend in Cincinnati
the crowd milled, ebbing and flowing from their seats to the concession stands.
Richard Thompson Electric Trio, Wilco and My Morning Jacket were all on the roster.
Culminating in Bob Dylan's performance.
A young crowd, Millenials
and Gen X’ers and younger, had come for the first three performances. The rest
of us—baby boomers--were there to hear the one who had, to borrow loosely from
Joan Baez, "burst on the scene already a legend" a half century ago.
We had arrived a little
too late to hear Richard Thompson. And learned Thompson had started playing
before the scheduled time.
My Morning Jacket was
deafeningly loud with lyrics indistinguishable in the cacophony of noise. The
younger set in the crowd appeared delighted with the music and danced
throughout MMJacket’s performance.
I know I sound like my
parents did many decades ago when we boomers, or should I make that Geezers,
first started listening to rock & roll. But, in truth, my ears hurt. Maybe
the tolerance for loud music fades with age. Or maybe some of us just don’t
like our thoughts totally slammed by sound.
In any event, Wilco’s
performance was much more enjoyable and melodious to my ears. As a result of
the slightly less deafening sound Wilco was producing, a number of the younger
members of the crowd repeatedly urged the performers to crank up the sound.
Jeff Tweedy, lead singer for Wilco, replied, very nicely, to those in the crowd
asking for more volume: “You’re just deaf from My Morning Jacket's
performance”. And Wilco was not going to compete in the category of loudness.
The crowd settled down.
And as our ears recovered, at least those of us oldsters who still had any
hearing left, enjoyed the lyrics and melodies from the spirited performers. To
the crowd’s delight, Richard Thompson joined Wilco on stage for a few songs,
including one of the highlights, "California Stars".
Two young men next to us,
maybe a bit older than Millenials, but not by much, had been among those
complaining at first as to Wilco's lack of deafening qualities. Now that Wilco
had ended, one young man told his companion in a grudging voice he was ready to
go but would stay for one song in Dylan’s set. His companion agreed to the
plan.
As in most concerts, the
main act was last. But I got to wondering: did this order of performance really
make any sense? Here it was almost 9:30, the time many of the oldsters who had
come to see Dylan were likely ready to call it a night. Why didn't the
producers start with a group like Wilco and then follow with Dylan? Us old-timers could head home, having a
lovely evening of music, and still make it to our beds at a reasonable time. The
youngsters who had come for the loudest group, My Morning Jacket, likely would still
be raring to go throughout the concert.
In any event, it was
almost 9:30 when the sun dipped below the horizon. A cool breeze suddenly blew
in from the Ohio River . The stage went dark. And
a powerful acoustical sound hit the crowd as the same time as the cool breeze.
The crowd as one jumped up to get a glimpse of the darkened stage. When the
lights came on, Dylan, clad in dark pants and a white jacket, with the rest of
his band in all black, lit into "Things Have Changed". The crowd went
wild.
Dylan once again demonstrated
why he's an enduring icon. Dylan and his back-up band, including Charlie Sexton
on lead guitar after Duke Robillard’s unexpected departure less than a week
earlier, performed for an hour and a half, with Dylan singing, playing keyboard
or harmonica. Dylan had promptly removed his white hat and played with his mop
of gray curls uncovered for most of the show. The highlights were
“Blind Willy McTell”, “Early Roman Kings” and “Love Sick”.
The two young men
next to us were still there at concert’s end. I suppose the concert schedule
was well thought out after all, offering something for everyone.
No comments:
Post a Comment