Not so much a reunion of The Traveling Wilburys’ oddest members but a period where Bob Dylan would try and redefine himself, Sydney 1986 has it all. Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers playing ball with a Dylan stage presence that, for better or worse, feels volatile. Such is the case for a man who had put out Empire Burlesque the year prior. It sounds as though Dylan is trying to shake a bad case of the blues here. He is off-kilter in the studio and what remains so consistent through this decade is his stage presence. Later performances with Grateful Dead would highlight this further, but first take yourself to Sydney 1986, a two-and-a-half-hour powerhouse performance where Dylan covers Warren Smith and Hank Snow, while also returning to some of his finest works.
After a rocky instrumental section for the opening song, a cover of Don Harris and Dewey Terry’s Justine comes a monumental turn of form. Positively 4th Street sounds staggeringly great with plenty of Heartbreakers-led instrumental punches providing a grand backdrop to a croaking and matured Dylan vocal range. A show where Dylan finds himself adrift, but by the end of it is praising his one true hero. Irrespective of generation or image, Dylan has always sat firm with his belief in some greater plain. Rarely does it affect his performance, he could be roaring through a set of electric covers or slamming away on the grand piano of the Rough and Rowdy Ways tour and it would merely be an implication. But for Sydney 1986, particularly closer Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, there is a sense of faith present. It can be felt throughout. Look at those song choices and the chatter before and after a few of those tracks.
Masters of War is thrown out there as a song of the protest period. The real joy for Dylan comes in those Shot of Love performances like Lenny Bruce or the reimagined metaphors and meaning of I and I. There are plenty of staggering instrumental moments to be found in Sydney 1986. Even the Empire Burlesque stuff sounds better, though this may be because it is far removed from the studio. Weak material sounds far greater when slipped into a set, instrumentally outrageous and keeping a constant form. You can make anything sound great when you sandwich it between Clean Cut Kid and Trust Yourself. But credit where it is due, I’ll Remember You stands as one of the high points of the set, better than Girl from the North Country, even. Nowhere close to the magic of Seeing the Real You at Last, but certainly up there.
Dylan would spend the rest of the 1980s reliant on contemporaries he could trust. Not because he feared the stage but because his studio work was in desperate need of salvation. Knocked Out Loaded was just around the corner and while his live materials, particularly Sydney 1986, are great fun, there is a bulk of his sound which just feels incredibly lacklustre without the help of other, established musicians. The Heartbreakers and The Dead were never going to bend to his sound, never set to feel like a backing band when they proved they were much more than this before and after, so it adds that new layer. That instrumental blockage is removed because it is out of Dylan’s hands. He sounds liberated here, relaxed even. It makes all the difference for his performance on Sydney 1986.
