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Pastimes : Robert Zimmerman, Bob Dylan, Dylan -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Elmer Flugum who wrote (468)	10/23/2000 3:37:18 PM
From: SIer formerly known as Joe B.	Respond to of 2695

orad.dent.kyushu-u.ac.jp

To: Elmer Flugum who wrote (468)	11/9/2000 11:05:42 PM
From: SIer formerly known as Joe B.	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 2695

Concert Review: Dylan brilliant even when less than perfect post-gazette.com Tuesday, November 07, 2000 By Ed Masley, Post-Gazette Pop Music Critic By the time Bob Dylan went electric last night at the A.J. Palumbo Center, the local stop on his never-ending tour was beginning to feel a little like the set he should have played at Newport all those years ago. While hard-core folkie purists may have had a problem with the drums -- and possibly the volume -- the instrumentation across the front was positively 4th street -- acoustic guitars and upright bass -- as Dylan led a red-hot band through a blues song called "Duncan and Brady," "Mr. Tambourine Man" (deconstructed but unmistakably jingle-jangling) and a haunting train ride through "It's All Right, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)." Guitarist Larry Campbell switched to pedal-steel guitar for a version of "Love Minus Zero/No Limit" that was more than just a little reminiscent of "If Not For You," then back to acoustic guitar for "Tangled Up in Blue" and finally the mandolin for "Searching for a Soldier's Grave," a gorgeous bluegrass waltz. And then, it was on to the first electric number of the set, a Grateful Dead-indebted "Country Pie" from "Nashville Skyline," followed by the only song he played from 1998's "Time Out of Mind," his strongest album since the early '70s at least, if not a little longer. "Standing in the Doorway" proved an early highlight, greeted by a cheer as Dylan took on the opening line with a fire he could have used on "Like a Rolling Stone" and other songs he's more than likely sick to death of singing. It was Dylan at his poignant best as a vocalist. As is Dylan tradition, the road-weary classics were frequently deconstructed to the point where little more than the lyrics remained. And every so often, it worked like a charm, no more so than on "Blowin' in the Wind," a song I'd tend to doubt has ever sounded quite so moving or so beautiful. But sadly, a few of the others could have used a little reverence from the singer for the way he knew the song was meant to sound when he was closer to the point of inspiration. "Like a Rolling Stone" was only recognizable enough to make you wonder when the words had lost all meaning for the man, while "Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again" took a wrong turn on Highway 61. And boy, did he play guitar, an instrument he plays at least as well as Master P plays basketball. But hey, it's his name on the ticket. If he wants to get some leads in when they could have gone to Campbell and/or Charlie Sexton, both of whom were just amazing, I suppose it's up to him. And in the end, as always, it was worth it sitting through the remedial solos and the screwed-up versions of the classics just to get to all the moments that found him redeeming himself: "Forever Young," awash in aching harmonies; a lazy nightclub jazz arrangement of "If Dogs Ran Free"; a breathtaking "Just Like Woman"; and a gently-rocking, smile-inducing version of "Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat." In closing, no, the night was not without its flaws, but it was brilliant all the same.

To: Elmer Flugum who wrote (468)	2/10/2001 8:52:28 PM
From: SIer formerly known as Joe B.	Respond to of 2695

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To: Elmer Flugum who wrote (468)	2/17/2001 9:26:15 PM
From: SIer formerly known as Joe B.	Respond to of 2695

Syd Barrett Song Unearthed Wednesday February 14 09:01 PM EST dailynews.yahoo.com "Bob Dylan's Blues" might be an uncharacteristically prosaic title from a man better known for his songs about gnomes, octopuses and effervescing elephants. But as this newly unearthed Syd Barrett song -- to be included on a new compilation, Wouldn't You Miss Me (EMI), which is due for release in the U.K. on April 16th -- suggests, Pink Floyd's original "Crazy Diamond" was far from immune to the occasional mortal influence. Barrett, the errant star of British psychedelia, masterminded Pink Floyd's early success before a combination of a nervous breakdown and a tendency to overindulge in the era's more potent stimulants prompted his departure from the group early in 1968. Tales of mammoth drug binges, erratic stage performances and baffling behavioral traits inevitably earned Barrett the "acid casualty" epithet. After two solo albums, The Madcap Laughs and Barrett, both clearly the work of a wildly distracted man, he simply disappeared from view, taking up residence in the cellar of his family home in Cambridge. Turning his back on rock & roll, he returned to painting. Occasional Syd sightings, each one depicting the acid rock pin-up as increasingly bald and overweight, prompted inevitable rumors of renewed activity, but aside from a disastrous studio session in 1974, he's maintained a strange, intensely private silence. Since the death of his mother in the early Nineties, Syd Barrett lives alone in Cambridge, suffers from diabetes and is tended to by his sister. The Barrett legend has also been maintained by Pink Floyd themselves, most noticeably by Roger Waters, whose "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" and The Wall were both inspired by his ex-colleague's mental health problems. Now, it is guitarist Dave Gilmour, Barrett's replacement in Pink Floyd and producer of his two solo LPs, who provides the fillip. "Bob Dylan's Blues," a remarkable pastiche unlike anything else in the Barrett canon, has been culled from Gilmour's private collection and is being released with the blessing of Barrett's family. "We knew of the song's existence when we put together [1993's] Crazy Diamond box set," says project co-ordinator Tim Chacksfield, "but we had plenty of other material so there was no pressure for us to find it." The new compilation provided an ideal opportunity to approach Gilmour and request permission to use the song. But why the guitarist took the master tape with him after the February 27, 1970 demo session had been completed remains a mystery. David Parker, author of Random Precision -- Recording the Music of Syd Barrett 1965-1974, maintains that Gilmour has always rated the song highly. Chacksfield tends to agree: "The fact that Dave was happy to let it out says a lot." Although R&B, improvised music and nursery rhyme-like folksong clearly influenced Barrett, the Dylan connection is far more obscure. Barrett and Gilmour -- at the time mere Cambridge-based teenage beat buffs -- did catch the visiting American at an early show in London in 1963, and it's likely that "Bob Dylan's Blues" was written during the following months. Peter Barnes, Pink Floyd's music publisher, maintains, "It's one of Syd's very earliest songs written before he even had a publishing deal." The 1970 recording, with Barrett accompanying himself on acoustic guitar, is a neat take on Dylan's early, talking blues style. While finger-picking with typical, Dylan-like imprecision, Barrett gently lampoons Dylan's activism and instead plays up the singer's infamous nonchalance: "Got the Bob Dylan blues/And the Bob Dylan shoes/And my clothes and my hair's in a mess/But you know/I just couldn't care less." The chorus is equally even-handed: "Cos I'm a poet/Doncha know it/And the wind, you can blow it/Cos I'm Mr. Dylan, the King/And I'm free as a bird on the wing." Though he later adopted Dylan's unkempt curly-top hairstyle, this is the first aural evidence of Syd Barrett's early enthusiasm for Dylan and provides an amusing aside to his more brain-teasing material. MARK PAYTRESS (February 14, 2001)