Philadclphia

by Matt Darnsker the Philadelphia Drummer

    A great rock & roll concert but caught up in one of those peculiar time-warps: Bob Dylan - poet to an electric generation and prophet to boot - makes his long-awaited return to the stage. Comes to Philadelphia on this Exorcism Eve of the American body politic; comes to climax the sixties a mere four years into the seventies, dressed in a dark rumpled suit and what looks like a Korvette polo, backed by the venerable Band. Comes to sing his songs in an angry (make no mistake) voice, looking his years and savoring the sweet taste of prophecy fulfilled.

    Here's the vindicated generation, aware of the IMPEACH NIXON banner that hangs implacably, uncontroversially, from the upper level. And here's The Man, the visionary who told it like it was, whose every song exhibits a genuine hatred of hypocrisy and coupled with a painful and ironic awareness of its pervasiveness. When he sings that line, the line - "even the President of the     Yoönited States must sometimes have to stand naked" - the audience reacts predictably. roaring its appreciation like a victorious army at the feast of the spoils. Yes Bob, you were so right. We're going into the eighties and won't we call the tune. . .

     It was a great rock & roll concert. From the opening moment, "Rainy Day Women," The Band and Bob attacking with chunky. full-blooded lubricated Rock. Bob singing aggressively and pointedly. Robbie Robertson's lead guitar screaming throughout the night. Through an exaggerated vocal on "It Ain't Me Babe" and into a riveting "I Don't Believe her." ending the set at the piano with "Ballad of a Thin Man." The Band follows with a program of favorites from their first three lps and then Bob returns to lead a savage. rousing and ovation-inspiring "All Along the Watchtower," and a humored "Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat," followed by "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" from the Billy The Kid soundtrack. Then the Band takes its leave and Bob is solo for an acoustic set.

    A hard-edged vocal on "The Times They Are A-Changin'" softens a bit through emotionally wringing versions of "Baby Blue." "Song to Woody," and "Tambourine Man." Then a new song, the first of the night, called "You." It's one of Dylan's best love ballads ("Everybody wants my attention and everybody's got something to sell, 'cept you, yeah you. . ."). A revival atmosphere for "It's Alright Ma," then the Band i returns for four more of their own, and then Bob is back to finish up the night with a few more tunes, ending angrily and loud with "Like a Rolling Stone." The crowd sustains a roar of infinite approval. the encore is "Most Likely You'll Go Your Way" and after three hours of Bob Dylan and the Band that's about the only thing The Man can say to us. Other than the music, not a word. Just a split-second salute of thanks as he leaves the stage.

              TORONTO

     by Shawn McGrath                          Toronto  Blade 

     Bob Dylan, the angry poet of the youth movement, returned  to Toronto's Maple leaf Gardens for the first time in eight years and proved he is still a human being. The reluctant messiah of the sixties was as he admitted, a bit off his first two concerts here Wednesday. Still a technically fine musician, he gave the impression that he just wasn't listening to himself sing.

    The crowd, 19,000 strong, were ready for him, but hen Dylan appeared, dark-suited and sombre, and began adjusting his electric guitar, their welcoming roar went without reaction.