TIM DE LISLE
Bob Dylan Verti Music Hall, Berlin Touring UK until November 5
Here It Is: A Tribute To Leonard Cohen Out now
Bob Dylan is back on his never-ending tour, giving us the first chance in recorded history to go to a concert by an octogenarian Nobel Laureate. It ought to be an occasion, but you soon find, to paraphrase David Bowie, that the gig is a saddening bore.
It does have some good points. At 81, Dylan gets credit for soldiering on and he’s looking sharp. His musicians, as usual, are masterly. Their old-school strings and beautifully underdone drums bring depth to the blues-rock that Dylan now favours. But there’s one player letting the side down, and sadly it’s the guy we have come to see.
His bar-band piano is more plinkyplonk rather than honky-tonk. His voice is adenoidal, his diction blurred. Only his intonation – forever surprised – feels like him.
Of course this is partly the passage of time, but it’s compounded by a puzzling decision. While Mick Jagger and Bryan Ferry are bolstered by the best backing singers in the business, Dylan goes it alone. His choice of material, often quirky, is now downright maddening. You get nine tracks from the longwinded lockdown album Rough And Rowdy Ways – though not the famous one, Murder Most Foul. They’re about as engaging as the set design, which consists, in its entirety, of a brown curtain.
With the older tunes, Dylan plays ‘Spot The Song’. The defining sound of his shows is a cheer from the faithful when they finally twig that they’re in the presence of a classic. The test is tougher now that he expects them to place their phones in sealed pouches.
Traditionally the track being bent out of shape is Tangled Up In Blue. Here, for a change, it’s I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight, an innocent little love song that finds itself subjected to murder most futile. In 100 minutes, Dylan dishes up only two treats: a propulsive Gotta Serve Somebody and a pensive Every Grain Of Sand, both from his religious period, circa 1980. From his world-changing heyday, 1963-65, there is nothing at all.
Filing out at the end, the fans are greeted by a busker playing Mr Tambourine Man. He sounds more like Dylan than Dylan does.
The album of the week is a set of Leonard Cohen’s songs, remade by famous fans from Norah Jones to Peter Gabriel. A jazz-tinged house band add a gorgeous sensuality to Cohen’s piercing intelligence. The producer, Larry Klein, leaves you hoping he’ll do it again with another great songwriter: Dylan.