Nearly sixty years after his controversial world tour of 1966, it seems rather ludicrous that Bob Dylan’s embracing the concept of plugging in a guitar and appearing with a full band should result in fans revolting in a volley of heckles, boos and items hurled at the stage. This rebellion of jeering folk purists has at least imbued the ’66 tour with a notoriety that has endured deep into the 21st century: it was referenced in this year’s Dylan biopic A Complete Unknown, which repurposed the infamous heckle of “Judas!” – barked by a punter at a show at the Free Trade Hall, Manchester – into its pre 1966 narrative.
Thus, Dylan’s mid-sixties musical revolution feels ripe for recreation and a modern-day shift of perspective. This current tour is essentially Atlanta born musician Cat Power touring her 2023 live album Cat Power Sings Dylan: The 1966 Royal Albert Hall Concert. However, that live album was actually replicating Dylan’s Free Trade Hall gig, which was bootlegged in 1998 and mistakenly released as having been recorded at the Albert Hall. Although Power’s live replication of the Free Trade Hall show was actually recorded at the Albert Hall. Confusing, much?
Either way, there’s no doubt that tonight we’re ensconced in the art deco grandeur of The Forum, Bath. As per the ’66 Dylan show, the set is split in two; an acoustic half and the electric half with a full band setup. Donned in a snappy green suit, Power’s attractive, husky vocal employs consciously Dylanesque phrasing during opener ‘She Belongs To Me.’
For this section of the performance, Power is backed by Henry Munson’s gently strummed acoustic guitar and another musician offering soft bursts of harmonica. At the end of each song, she claps in unison with the audience, apparently a touching show of appreciation toward her two bandmates. Following the typically long lyrical epic of ‘Visions of Johanna’, Power addresses the audience for the first time, saying that she loves the venue and that she wishes “I could take it around the world with me.” The pointless heckle of “We don’t!” in response is uncharacteristic given the slightly subdued politeness of the seated audience.
Combined with Power’s slowed down, slightly jazz-inflected vocalisations, and the sparse arrangement of acoustic strumming and touches of harmonica, ‘Desolation Row’, – over 11 minutes long on record – feels like a bit of slog. Power informs us that The Forum is used by around 500 church goers every Sunday, that this has given her a relaxed, grounded energy. She then jokingly mutters that “Allen Ginsburg is God” before ‘Just Like A Woman.’ It being one of Dylan’s more known tunes, Power’s artistic license in altering the lyrical phrasing, and thus impinging on the distinctiveness of the melody, becomes more acute.
The same can be said for ‘Mr Tambourine Man,’ which is reimagined as a slightly breathy jazz-ballad, rather than a skipping folk gem. Obviously, Power only feels obliged to be faithful to the ’66 setlist, and wants to give herself room for reinterpretation in regard to actual performance. Admittedly, Dylan himself has always been prone to alter his most loved creations, but it always feels a bit of a shame when much loved tunes take on unfamiliar shapes.
Contrary to the irked reactions of 59 years ago, it’s the show’s second half that should be cause for most celebration. With Power now joined by two guitarists, a drummer, bassist and bandmates on Hammond organ and piano, ‘Tell Me, Momma’ is a rocking jolt of electricity that feels most welcome after the preceding subtleties. ‘I Don’t Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Met)’ is a fine melding of harmonica and the Hammond organ that partially defined Dylan’s mid-60s sound.
A couple of piano chords added to the opening riff of ‘Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues’ makes it briefly sound like Warren Zevon’s ‘Werewolves of London,’ and what transpires is a pretty, relatively sparse interpretation wherein one can here the subtleties of single guitar notes and piano keys. Power briefly addresses the audience again, saying “it’s an honour to be here.” She expresses her fondness for the venue again and, though alluding to a love/hate relationship with her job, she is clear that tonight she very much feels the former and declares gratitude toward the audience.
One feels that the full band/electric element of tonight’s show is easily the most evocative of the authentic Dylan ’66 experience. It appears that sharp attention to detail has been granted in regard the vintage-looking instruments and amplifiers being used. Furthermore, the tall, dark and slightly gangly Munson, with both a similar haircut and guitar attacking demeanour, is a striking mirage of a young Robbie Robertson.
‘One Too Many Mornings’ – originally recorded by Dylan as a pensive acoustic number – is beautifully afforded a subtle grandiosity when realised with a full band. ‘Ballad of a Thin Man’ is a dramatic, moody blues stomp with the persistent whine of Hammond organ set tantalisingly in the background. As with certain moments in the first half, iconic closer ‘Like A Rolling Stone’ is rendered less potent – more so than with Dylan’s own slight variations in ’66 – with Power playing around with the timings of her vocal delivery.
It was, rather literally, a gig of two halves. Given the wondrous dynamics achievable by a full band on form, those shouts of “Judas!” seem even more ludicrous.
Scott Hammond