Fragments: Time Out of Mind Sessions showed off just how phenomenal Not Dark Yet is. Hunting down different variants of it, whether it is an acoustic performance or a live showcase years on from the album release, has become a minor pastime. Not Dark Yet may be one of Bob Dylan’s best. Everything lines up so perfectly for it, from the Time Out of Mind recording to the cultural want for more Dylan. The stars align. Not Dark Yet remains mesmerising both in studio and live form. This performance from Sheffield in 2000 is one of nearly two hundred live performances. What makes this so different? Dylan had already found a haunting song of reflection, of realising where he stands is where he is wanted. To drift is to die and Not Dark Yet shows the light is still on, burning bright. Live performances cemented that.
Wait for the smattering of claps to die down and hear what may be the best live version of Not Dark Yet available from this tour. Take a look at the tour dates. This is a staggering tour where Dylan had the energy of a young man, sometimes performing twice in a day and often back-to-back. In these days of vocal rest and haemorrhaged vocal cords, doing so feels like tempting fate. But not Dylan. Not here. A clean vocal presentation rids the croaky style and moves him back into a spot of clarity which was not heard during the prolific 1980s and 1990s. Those vocal inflexions are a choice, and they remain so. Not Dark Yet could not be clearer here, the thud of his lyrical presence making every line a potential gut punch. With longtime collaborators Charlie Sexton and Tony Garnier sharing their instrumental prowess, Not Dark Yet turns from moody Time Out of Mind slice to raw, guitar-driven charmer.
Slight elongations and note changes for those instrumental spots give Larry Campbell a little more to do as he and Sexton give in to this staggering back and forth. Dylan sounds keen to leave it to the instrumentals at times, letting those whispers and whoops from the crowd bleed in. Not Dark Yet is a song reliant on its message punching with as much force as possible. Dylan’s cat-like drawl of “prayer” and the elongation of “there” is a gut-wrenching moment. A nice flicker of light performance towards the end of a staggering live rendition. Time Out of Mind may have reinvigorated him and shined his star that much brighter, but the songs come into their own on stage. Not Dark Yet, particularly, has an extra edge to it.
Listening to those live renditions, the earlier takes and the original pieces, we can shift Not Dark Yet further and further up the list of best-ever Dylan songs. This Sheffield performance is not going to be the breakthrough for such a decision, but it certainly adds a refined layer to the Time Out of Mind piece. For an artist whose sincerity is doubtful because of the mystique around him, Dylan sounds as open as ever on Not Dark Yet. Perhaps this is why it became such a beloved song. Here, the instrumentals take precedence. After a few listens to the drifting sounds, the tender calmness of this live rendition is as important as the acceptance heard from Dylan. It is not dark yet, he is right. But it is getting there. How much more is in the tank? It was a question asked twenty years ago by the man himself, but now the point again rears its ugly head.
Great song and album.