Ultimately the Rolling Thunder Revue tour can be compartmentalised in the mind and remembered for two key moments. A stunning performance of Idiot Wind on the severely underrated Hard Rain and the inevitability of burnout towards the back end of the tour. Bob Dylan ploughed on through with a collective of increasingly frustrated collaborators in a tour which even the man himself admits he cannot remember too much of. He says so with confidence to director Martin Scorsese, but for those who engage with recordings of the tour long after it ended, there is much to love about the Dylan performances of this period. All his major hits collected in one spot with the burning protest songs of the mid-1970s and the slow realisation throughout this tour that his star was no longer shining as brightly. Rolling Thunder Revue, April 29, serves as an exceptional and broad dive into this period.
Some comfortable hits open the show. Dylan has a vicious vocal range at hand for Mr. Tambourine Man and It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) and underneath is this fascinating false sense of security. Fear and rage boom through this show like many of the other, latter stages of the Rolling Thunder Revue. With Vincent Van Gogh, a lament to the late artist and a solid autobiographical scope like Hurricane from Dylan’s Desire, is a surprise crowd pleasure but a worthwhile venture. It settles well and as promised by the Rolling Stone article which heralded the return of this show, the recording is of an unreal quality. This is no bootleg. These are the equivalent of master tapes put together by a sound engineer who just happened to be there. A wonderful treat and a real capture of the times – particularly I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight. Throughout an hour listeners are gifted a solid hour of a legendary show.
While it is unlikely the first time Maggie’s Farm was played with a swinging blues rock charm – it would certainly not be the last. Dylan has stuck firm to this reinvention of a classic track and feels taken by it more than the original. It provides an electric flavour and an almost reactionary, improvised guitar slot. Keen he may be to experiment with his finer tracks, the likes of Blowin’ in the Wind benefit not just from a tempo change but from a backing vocal performance from Joan Baez. Wonderful work and it carries on through a traditional cover of Railroad Boy and the well-placed I Pity the Poor Immigrant. A document of Dylan’s religious intent just a few years shy of it taking centre stage – and what a place the Rolling Thunder Revue is for its debut.
At its core then is the beauty and rage which would develop much of this tour into a staggering joy. The ragtime appeal of the instrumental bleed between I Pity the Poor Immigrant and Shelter from the Storm is one of many marvellous moments. Those upbeat joys on Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again stick out as a rare moment of optimism from a tour which would see Dylan make no return to the stage – bar for The Last Waltz – for two years. These are the cries of a man burning out and trying to hold it together, to be as prolific as he once was. No wonder in his post-1980s period his release cycle became shorter, reliant on the traditional reworkings which had made for ample material in his live performances. Those lonesome final moments are made up well with Going, Going, Gone in one of the strongest live pieces Dylan offered during a golden decade of his career.
