Bob Dylan – Manchester Prayer Review

No, not Manchester, England. Bob Dylan does not play the place of Oasis. This is just Manchester Prayer, an exceptionally rare bootleg filled with hits and religious materials which Dylan had begun working on around the time of Street-Legal. How rare a recording? Love Crazy opens the set and bleeds right into Mr. Tambourine Man. A fiery piece of work from the man on stage who had peaked a few years prior and began not a slide into obscure works but a floundering period as he searched for a new sound. It is not the fatigue of his old work which caught him out but a desire to be moved by new motions, experiences which had founded themselves in a born-again life. A time for questioning and Dylan did not have the answers – such is the point of the period following Slow Train Coming. Manchester Prayer is a dive into where he found himself. 

Gospel-like adaptations of his finest works are available here. The short procession of organ and keyboard work on the elongated, quieter Mr. Tambourine Man is a sign of where Dylan is headed. Vocally, this is as powerful as Dylan gets around this period. Stunning works moved by a divine belief. Shelter from the Storm benefits from some sudden bursts of jazz momentum with a saxophone dipping in and out as Dylan screeches of crocodiles and finds a way out of the storm. But he was in the heart of it and a way out would not provide itself for another decade. What remains consistent with Dylan through these dark ages is a considered, personable appearance on the stage. Every performance is different, naturally, but there is a bulk of brilliance floating through his efforts on Manchester Prayer which set the standard of the future.  

Dylan is in cordial form here, particularly welcoming to the audience in attendance. He references the geeks as a way of introducing Ballad of a Thin Man, winning over the audience as a thickly layered instrumental version of the classic Highway 61 Revisited cut bounces through. Deep cuts like I Don’t Believe You and One More Cup of Coffee are the real joys here. Dylan sounds more in touch with the tunes he has not had to play relentlessly, scratching them thin and going through the motions of earlier performances. He finds joy in the odds and ends, as he would for much of his career after this point. His heart is not quite in the likes of Masters of War despite their pertinent and contemporary message still lingering. It is up to instrumental flourish to make the most of those hits.  

But when you are this deep into a Dylan dive it is hard to want anything else than those rarities. Like a Rolling Stone is always a monumental experience when listening live – as it should be. Could it be? A performance of Señor (Tales of Yankee Power)? Yes, it is. And what an experience it is. A sad shame Dylan snubbed Street-Legal but later, revealing interviews and the string of religious albums to follow are more than understandable explanations for why. Yet Manchester Prayer lives on as an exceptional piece, one which finds Dylan hitting a groove on stage which would remain constant even in the choppiest of studio storms.