by Sophia Smith
I consider myself an alternative music junkie.
The first album I ever owned was "Speaking in Tongues" by Talking Heads, and my taste has always favored the alt/punk/euro scene.
But Bob Dylan is, of course, a legend even everyone can respect. So I attended the Dylan concert at Artpark last week at the last minute. I decided any live music experience by a living 50-year plus music veteran would be worth a listen. A Dylan concert is one of the mighty concert tales like The Stones or Aerosmith that you can regale you grandkids with someday.
Dylan took the stage wearing a Clint Eastwood hat in "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" flavor, a military jacket, and scruffy sweatpants. Not quite the "Rock God" look I was expecting. He ne'er spoke a word to the audience to let us know he liked us, or the $100 we shelled out for a good seat.
True to the rumors, I couldn't decipher a bloody word the man sang. The stage was dark and mysterious, setting just the tone of intrigue that Dylan was after; either that or the fact that he fired his lighting chap at 6 p.m. on the night of the show.
After a few somber songs, he and his band of five (four were sporting funky hats ...) started to rock the house (finally) and have a pretty decent jam session. Not too shabby for a 71-year-old rocker ... although he barely got up from his grand piano to shuffle around, and when he did, he certainly wasn't doing a double-leg rock 'n' roll jump.
The great thing about Artpark being in our backyard is the broad musical offerings it brings us every season, whether you pine for acts like Jane's Addiction, or a grouchy geriatric folk singer stuck to the piano. I am happy to say I have had the experience of seeing Dylan live, but if you don't love his music, stay home and use your C-note toward your next David Byrne concert!