1988 I WALK WITH MY SHADOW, I TALK WITH MY ECHO

Pink Panter Records

1988 Interstate 88 (Part 1) North America Summer Tour

Lazarus Rising - the beginning of the Never Ending Tour (NET)
(Bob's quiet, dignified retirement - a band of rock �n� roll gangsters from the wrong side of the tracks)

***

1988 was a turning point for Bob. He was now 47 years old (well, not exactly old, but certainly not young).
He had spent the last few years putting out uninspired albums with a large dose of covers
& hiding behind "events" like Live Aid & big-name bands like The Grateful Dead & Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers.
Jerry Garcia, who Bob trusted, had told him that he needed to reconnect with his old songs & then perform them with conviction.
He started this process in Europe in 1987 when he agreed to play "requests" from The Heartbreakers.
He needed to take control of his own destiny - not rely on others.
So we get a stripped down proto-punk guitar band without frills.

Neil Young appeared in three of the first four shows & may have also been scheduled to play at the second show in Sacramento,
which Bob abandoned early in a rage.
Maybe the plan was for Neil to continue for the full tour leg, but he disappeared after Mountain View.

The press were hostile & the audiences were depressingly small. The NET could have ended after the disasterous second show in Sacramento.
But a miricle happened - the third show in Berkeley was an unqualified success (in no small part to Neil Young).
The electric Gates Of Eden from Berkeley with the Neil Young solo is one of the great Dylan live tracks from any era.

After Berkeley, everything (apart from Neil Young) settled down.

GE Smith was an inspired choice as guitarist. Kenny Aaronson's "big rubber band" bass sound was interesting
& so was Christopher Parker on drums.

This tour leg, despite all the garbage that preceded it, was an unqualified success.
Bob dipped deeply into his songbook & played many, many songs that had not appeared for decades.

Bob played 80 different songs in 40 different concerts during this tour leg - they are all here.

A large number of soundboards have appeared over the years from these shows, probably taped so Bob could hear the results for himself.
This was still the era of portable analogue concert recording (no digital yet) but there are many excellent analogue audience tapes to supplement the soundboards.

Of all the unexpected miracles in Bob's career, this is the biggest & most unexpected one - the successful birth of the NET.

Bob had successfully reconnected with his past catalogue & played it with conviction. Performance quality was also generally excellent.

As Bob says, "I walk with my shadow, I talk [well, maybe mumble] with my echo."

***

Wikipedia

Lazarus

Lazarus of Bethany, also known as Saint Lazarus or Lazarus of the Four Days, is the subject of a prominent miracle
attributed to Jesus in the Gospel of John, in which Jesus restores him to life four days after his death.
The Eastern Orthodox and Roman Catholic traditions offer varying accounts of the later events of his life.

In the context of the seven signs in the Gospel of John, the Raising of Lazarus is the climactic narrative:
exemplifying the power of Jesus "over the last and most irresistible enemy of humanity�death.
For this reason it is given a prominent place in the gospel."

A figure named "Lazarus" (Latinised from the Aramaic: El?azar, cf. Heb. Eleazar�"God is my help") is also mentioned in the Gospel of Luke.
The two Biblical characters named "Lazarus" have sometimes been conflated historically, but are generally understood to be two separate people.

The name "Lazarus" is frequently used in science and popular culture in reference to apparent restoration to life;
for example, the scientific term "Lazarus taxon" denotes organisms that reappear in the fossil record after a period of apparent extinction.
There are also numerous literary uses of the term.

***

Co-produced by Detective Inspector Jacques Clouseau, President Vladimir Putin & Mr/The/Maybe President Donald Trump

Mastered at Lubyanka Sound Studios, KGB Headquarters, Moscow.

Another absolutely brilliant production from Jacques, Vladimir, The Donald and the death metal specialists at Lubyanka.

***

all sourced from 100% lossless FLAC from best available sound sources.

***

Highly variable setlists here with a core of 60s and 70 Dylan classics
backed up with a large number of songs that only appeared once or twice, including many cover songs.
The concerts were evenly split between electric songs played with the full band,
along with acoustics songs played as a duo with GE Smith.

Performance, sound & setlists are all consistently high on this tour leg.

It was a wild & unpredictable setlist ride from night to night.

***

Statistics for this compilation (yes, lies, damn lies & statistics masquerading as facts)

80 ball-tearing, sensational tracks
80 different songs
29 concerts are represented here (from the total of 40 concerts)
6 hours & 34 minutes of music
1 bob

***

All 80 songs played on the tour leg are represented here.

The setlists were highly variable from night to night, with
3 songs being played thirty or more times,
10 songs being played twenty or more times,
23 songs being played ten or more times,
38 songs being played five or more times, and
31 songs only played once or twice.

*

1 song was played 40 times:

Subterranean Homesick Blues

*

1 song was played 38 times:

Like A Rolling Stone

*

1 song was played 30 times:

Silvio

*

1 song was played 28 times:

Maggie's Farm

*

1 song was played 24 times:

I Shall Be Released

*

1 song was played 22 times:

Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again

*

1 song was played 21 times:

All Along The Watchtower

*

3 songs were played 20 times:

Highway 61 Revisited
It Ain't Me, Babe
The Times They Are A-Changin'

*

1 song was played 19 times:

A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall

*

1 song was played 17 times:

Masters Of War

*

1 song was played 15 times:

You're A Big Girl Now

*

2 songs were played 14 times:

Boots Of Spanish Leather
Simple Twist Of Fate

*

2 songs were played 13 times:

Blowin' In The Wind
In The Garden

***

3 songs were played 12 times:

Absolutely Sweet Marie
Ballad Of A Thin Man
Tangled Up In Blue

*

2 songs were played 11 times:

Barbara Allen
Driftin' Too Far From Shore

*

1 song was played 10 times:

Mr Tambourine Man

*

3 songs were played eight times:

Gates Of Eden
It's All Over Now, Baby Blue
The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll

*

6 songs were played seven times:

Don't Think Twice, It's All Right
Eileen Aroon
Gotta Serve Somebody
I'll Remember You
Lakes Of Pontchartrain
To Ramona

*

3 songs were played six times:

Girl Of The North Country
Just Like A Woman
Trail Of The Buffalo

*

3 songs were played five times:

Mama, You Been On My Mind
My Back Pages
Shelter From The Storm

*

4 songs were played four times:

I Want You
I'll Be Your Baby Tonight
Joey
Love Minus Zero / No Limit

*

7 songs were played three times:

Forever Young
John Brown
Knockin' On Heaven's Door
The Man In Me
The Ballad Of Frankie Lee And Judas Priest
Two Soldiers
Watching The River Flow

*

12 songs were played twice:

Every Grain Of Sand
Everybody's Movin'
Had A Dream About You, Baby
Hallelujah
It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry
It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)
Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues
Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat
Man Of Constant Sorrow
San Francisco Bay Blues
Seeing The Real You At Last
Song To Woody

*

19 songs were played only once:

Across The Borderline
Baby Let Me Follow You Down
Ballad Of Hollis Brown
Big River
Clean-Cut Kid
Give My Love To Rose
I Dreamed I Saw St Augustine
I'm Glad I Got To See You Once Again
I'm In The Mood For Love
License To Kill
Nadine
One More Cup Of Coffee (Valley Below)
One Too Many Mornings
Pretty Peggy-O
Rank Strangers To Me
She Belongs To Me
Tomorrow Is A Long Time
We Three (My Echo, My Shadow And Me)
Wild Mountain Thyme

***

WE THREE (MY ECHO, MY SHADOW AND ME) (D. Robertson, N. Cogane, S. Mysels)

We three, we're all alone,
Living in a memory,
My echo, my shadow, and me.
We three, we're not a crowd,
We're not even company,
My echo, my shadow, and me.

What good is the moon,
The silvery moon,
That shines above?
I WALK WITH MY SHADOW,
I TALK WITH MY ECHO
But where is the one I love?

We three, we'll wait for you
Even 'til eternity,
My echo, my shadow, and me.

***

David Sheppard, Q Magazine

Long-term Dylan fans are hardy folk. Used to the object of their worship�s wilful distain for his own reputation, his erratic peaks and troughs,
the frustrating habit of leaving his finest compositions mouldering in the studio cupboard et al, they soldier on. Dylan, they argue, is worth the extra effort.

Back in 1988, however, even his most diehard apologists must have been secretly praying that Dylan would soon opt for quiet, dignified retirement.
With each post-Christian period album becoming inexorably more ragged and desultory �
things had reached a wretched nadir with 1987�s grimly unengaging Down In The Groove LP,
on which even the most ardent Dylan disciple found difficulty locating a saving grace.
Similarly, a rarely-inspired mid-1980s live coupling with Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers
and a dull subsequent road-marriage with The Grateful Dead both suggested Dylan�s performing capabilities were shot.

Significantly, his induction into the Rock �n� Roll Hall Of Fame earlier in 1988 felt like a nostalgic salute to former glories.
The likelihood of Bruce Springsteen�s induction speech being the catalyst to a future of wold, mercurial Dylan possibilities seemed, frankly, unlikely.
Bob�s once coruscating supernova, it seemed, would soon be a distant, dimming star.

So it was with weary gait on 7 June 1988 that West Coast �Bobcats� herded toward the Pavilion auditorium in Concord, California
to mark the start of Dylan�s first American trek in two years � a date that would later be inscribed in Dylan lore as gig #1 ot the Never Ending Tour.

It was in an interview with Q the following year that Dylan first used The Never Ending Tour handle
to describe what was by then already a marathon 18 month hike around the North American continent,
a tour destined to unwind into a globe-trotting, 12-years and counting [as of 2000] odyssey.
�You can pick and choose better when you�re out there all the time and your show is already set up,� he explained,
�It�s all the same tour, the Never Ending Tour.�

For all that, what the battle-fatigued punters of Concord witnessed on the Never Ending Tour�s opening night was anything but auspicious.
Used to Dylan being surrounded by backing singers, keyboards and massed guitarists,
they looked on agast as a raucous, stripped-down three-piece electric band hurtled through their hero�s back pages at an irreverent, breakneck pace.

Allegedly inspired by his son Jacob�s enthusiasm for The Clash, Dylan�s new sound was closer to raw garage punk
than one or other of his habitual variations of folk-rock.
The new ensemble scorched the ears for little over an hour, with the 47-year old singer in a black matador�s suit, hoarse and wild-eyed,
apparently swept along by the music�s sheer velocity, vainly attempting to carve out a recognisable melody amidst the tumult.

Initial press reports were scathing � worse still the following night in Sacramento when, after a set of under 60 minutes duration,
only a fraction of it vaguely recognisable, the crowd adjourned to the bar, wrongly believing they�d sat through the opening half of a full two-hour show.

But it was not long thus. The band, initially under-rehearsed and wilting under the weight of Dylan�s vast repertoire �
not to mention his predilection for ignoring niceties like set-lists and song endings � quickly adsorbed their boss�s new schtick,
coalescing into a razor sharp unit that soon had critics comparing them to Dylan�s earlier mould-breaking electric accompanists, the 1966 Hawks, aka The Band.

These latest accomplices � pony-tailed session guitarist and Saturday Night Live TV band-leader GE Smith,
ex-Billy Idol bassist Kenny Aaronson and drummer Christopher Parker � galvanised Dylan into re-addressing his stage art.
Forced to address the fundaments of the electric guitar rather than just give it an indolent and inaudible pawing, as had become the norm,
Dylan was now relishing his instrument�s role � even if his rudimentary two-finger �solo� seemed to be applicable to any song he fancied.

More noteworthy was his singing. Still as likely to mumble his way through a set in full distracted curmudgeon mode,
most nights saw him summoning up at least one emotion-soaked vocal that alone justified the ticket price.
Many noted the visceral thrill of hearing Dylan swaggering through the proto-punk-rap of 1965�s Subterranean Homesick Blues,
a song never before performed live, or taut electric reworkings of Tangled Up In Blue and Shelter From The Storm.

Increasingly, however, the finer moments were to be found in the acoustic section that was soon established at the heart of every show.
Here, Dylan could trawl his early albums and, pleasingly, a vast archve of arcane folk and blues standards,
often turning in performances of heartbreaking poignancy. Suddenly, traditional Irish and Scottish ballads (Eileen Aaroon, Barbara Allen)
and American folkloric gems (Lakes Of Pontchartrain, Trail Of The Buffalo) were throwing new light on Dylan�s own compositions.

For Dylan, the Never Ending Tour seemed to be both a revisiting of the troubadour tradition in which he had cut his teeth
and a celebration of rock�s liberating spirit � which he had helped define.
If the audience could see beyond his scowling death-mask of a face, his choked vocals, the �re-invented� melodies and the predictable, throwaway encores
(always a permutation of Like A Rolling Stone, Highway 61 Revisited, Maggie�s Farm, Rainy Day Woman #12 & 35 or It Ain�t Me Babe),
they could see Dylan stealthily completing an enigmatic musical circle.

In the Never Ending Tour�s first three months, he played over 90 different songs �
some feat given that he was generally playing no more than 14 songs a night.
1989 proved equally prodigious, and he also found time to record Oh Mercy with Daniel Lanois in New Orleans,
an album whose unexpected excellence exactly paralleled his live renaissance
(though the touring band, much to many fan�s chagrin, was not invited to record).

The late-1980s, in fact, set the tone for Dylan�s next dozen years of performance.
With such a proliferation of gigs drawing on so vast a pool of songs, it was not long before the bootleggers were in their element
and a huge, international network of tape-swapping and set-list comparison was flourishing,
further fuelling wider interest in Dylan�s activities and helping to stoke up the fire of a myth that was previously in danger of fizzling out.

***

Paul Williams

"When your environment changes, you change. You've got to go on, and you find new friends.
Turn around one day and you're on a different stage, with a new set of characters," Dylan to Jonathan Cott of Rolling Stone, 1978.

On 7 June 1988, at the Concord Pavilion in Northern California, he found himself on stage with a new band,
quite different from Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers or The Grateful Dead:
Christopher Parker, drums; Kenny Aaronson, electric bass; and GE Smith, electric lead guitar
(and accompanying Dylan as second acoustic guitar on the acoustic songs � the 1988 equivalent of the solo acoustic sets included in the 1986, 1974 and 1966 shows).
No backup singers this year, no keyboards and no harmonica at all. A new year, a new sound.
New friends, in the sense that old songs become new friends (to the performer) when their forms change
because the players and the instrumentation and the musical environment (and the performer's self-image) have changed.

I was in the audience at that first show of 1988, and was thrilled when my hero opened the show by performing Subterranean Homesick Blues,
a great song he had never played on stage before. The surprises kept corning.
The second song was the first-ever live performance of Absolutely Sweet Marie from Blonde On Blonde.
The seventh selection was Man Of Constant Sorrow from Dylan's first album, another song he had never played on stage before
(though there are tapes of him singing it at a party and in a friend's apartment in 1961).
The acoustic set also included Boots Of Spanish Leather � which Dylan had last sung publicly at a television taping in 1965 �
and a traditional song he is not known to have performed before, The Lakes Of Pontchartrain.
Wow. We also got the first "electric" version of Gates Of Eden, and the first-ever live performance of Driftin' Too Far From Shore,
a 1984 Dylan song included on his 1986 album Knocked Out Loaded.

It was the singer's first North American concert since the shows with The Grateful Dead in July 1987.
As on the 1986 tour with The Heartbreakers, the 1988 shows had a basic format,
a dramatic structure based on the alternation of electric (band) sets and acoustic sets.
At Concord and at most of the shows for the rest of 1988, Dylan and the band opened with Subterranean Homesick Blues, then played five more electrified songs,
followed by the band walking off stage and Dylan and Smith performing a three-song acoustic set, followed by the return of the band and three electric songs,
the last of these a rousing show-closer (Like A Rolling Stone at Concord and most other nights in 1988).
The audience would then play its part, calling for an encore, so the fourth and last set would be the encores.
At Concord Dylan played only one encore, Maggie's Farm. For the rest of the year he played two or three or more encores,
at least one of them acoustic (accompanied by Smith).
A striking exception was the second show of the tour, Sacramento, 9 June 1988, at which Dylan refused the audience's request for an encore.
Clinton Heylin in A Life In Stolen Moments suggests he was disappointed at the poor turnout ("the venue was only half-full, fewer than six thousand fans attending").
Other variations as 1988 went on (Dylan played 71 shows in 1988, all in the United States or Canada) were the occasional seven-song opening set
or four-song second set (or, rarely, a four-song third set). Concord was 13 songs long, about 70 minutes.
At most 1988 shows, Dylan played 15, 16, or 17 songs. A notable exception: 13 October 1988 in Upper Darby, Pennsylvania, he played 21 songs �
seven in the first set, four in the second, three in the third, and then seven encores.

After Concord, the next three 1988 shows were also in the San Francisco Bay Area, at Sacramento, Berkeley and Mountain View.
During the rest of June 1988, Dylan and his new stripped-down three-piece band played in Utah, Colorado, Missouri, Wisconsin, Ohio, New Jersey, and New York.
In July and August 1998 they did shows in Massachusetts, Maine, Pennsylvania, Quebec, Ontario, Michigan, Illinois, Indiana, Maryland, Tennessee, Georgia,
Texas, Arizona, southern California, Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, Alberta, Manitoba, Ontario again, and New York state again.
The September 1988 itinerary included New York, New England, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Virginia, the Carolinas, Tennessee, Florida, and Louisiana.
The tour ended in October 1988 with two more shows in Pennsylvania and four shows at Radio City Music Hall in New York City.
There was an 11-day break in August 1988 and 17 days off in late-September and early-October 1988; otherwise it was a straight 19 weeks on the road.
Most of the shows, until the last six weeks, were at outdoor venues.

The T-shirts and hats sold at the start of the tour referred to it as "Interstate '88."
But Dylan fans have come to know it as the first leg of the Never Ending Tour, which they regard as still continuing in 2001,
even though Dylan said in 1993, in the liner notes to his album World Gone Wrong:

�By the way, dont be bewildered by the Never Ending Tour chatter, there was a Never Ending Tour but it ended in '91 with the departure of guitarist GE Smith,
that one's long gone but there have been many others since then. The Money Never Runs Out Tour (fall of '91) Southern Sympathizer Tour (early '92)
Why Do You Look at Me So Strangely Tour (European '92) The One Sad Cry of Pity Tour (Australia & West Coast American '92)
Principles of Action Tour (Mexico-South American '92) Outburst of Consciousness Tour ('92) Dont Let Your Deal Go Down Tour ('93)
and others too many to mention each with their own character & design, to know which was which consult the playlists.�

The Never Ending Tour "chatter" began as a result of Adrian Deevoy's October 1989 interview with Dylan (published in the December 1989 issue of Q Magazine).
At the start of the interview Deevoy said, "Tell me about the live thing. The last tour has gone virtually straight into this one."

Dylan replied: "Oh, it's all the same tour. The Never Ending Tour."

Deevoy: "What's the motivation to do that?"

Dylan: "Well, it works out better for me that way. You can pick and choose better when you're just out there all the time and your show is already set up.
You know, you just don't have to start it up and end it. It's better just to keep it out there with breaks, you know, with extended breaks."

The interview continued with some valuable insights into the mind and method of this performing artist:

Deevoy: Does that lend itself to reassessing stuff? The songs are being constantly reinterpreted, almost.

Dylan: Like which one? Like what? People do say that. To me it's never different. To me there's never any change.

Deevoy: The live show is quite improvisational.

Dylan: It can be. Some nights more than others! Heh heh. Some nights it's very structured.
Some nights it just sticks right to the script and other nights it'll skip.

Deevoy: What makes it take off?

Dylan: It's hard to say. It's hard to say. It's the crowd that changes the songs.

Deevoy: You stopped playing the harmonica for a while recently.

Dylan: Uh � yeah. When was that? Oh yeah. Sometimes I do, yeah. Those are the things that get set up and it's hard to bury them.
Once there's no harmonicas on the stage, you don't play them. Then there's always some problem with harmonicas.

Deevoy: Like picking up the wrong one.

Dylan: That can be very unfortunate when that happens. You've probably seen that happen a few times. Heh heh heh. Very unfortunate.
You can be playing an entire harmonica solo and not be able to hear it and you'll be in the wrong key.
You can usually tell by the faces in the crowd, you look and see if it's in the right key.
If it's in the wrong key it's, Aauugh! (he puts his hands over his ears and grimaces.) Then you can make an adjustment to it. Heh heh heh.

Deevoy: What about your voice? Are you pleased with the way it's sounding at the moment?

Dylan: Mmmmm. Ah, that's a thing that's very hard to really pin down. You know, whether you want it that way or not.
Trying to adjust the moods of the different songs can be tricky sometimes.

Deevoy: Do you ever feel limited by it?

Dylan: Yeah. Sure. My voice is very limiting. Vocally, it's just good enough for me. It's good for my songs. It really is good for my songs. My type of songs.

"I'm bound to ride that open highway" Dylan sang/announced 7 June 1988, at the first show of his Never Ending Tour.
This was during Man Of Constant Sorrow, the opening song of his first acoustic set in almost two years.
This line is not included in the performance of the song on Dylan's first album.
Nor is it in The Stanley Brothers' 1950 recording of Man Of Constant Sorrow, which Dylan may have been listening to when re-familiarizing himself with this song
before the start of the tour. It is clear he made reference to something other than his own recording of Man Of Constant Sorrow
when preparing to include it in his 1988 repertoire, because the state he now bids farewell to and says he is from is "old Kentucky"
as on The Stanley Brothers' recording, rather than "Colorado" as on Bob Dylan.

There are two verses included in the 1988 performances (Concord and again four nights later in Mountain View) that are not in Dylan's 1961 recording
but are new adaptations of verses in The Stanley Brothers' version.

Dylan would be the first person to tell you that songs can have a life of their own. In 2001, as I write this,
�I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow" is reaching millions of listeners as the centerpiece of a surprise hit album,
the multi-platinum hillbilly music soundtrack to a film called 0 Brother, Where Art Thou? about the adventures of three prisoners
who escape from a chain gang in Mississippi in 1937. Stumbling upon a guy who offers them a couple of dollars if they'll sing something into his tape recorder,
they sing Man Of Constant Sorrow and it immediately becomes a huge hit record, and they are treated like celebrities
when they are recognized as The Soggy Bottom Boys.

The first known publication of the song was in a 1913 song-book that a blind singer from Kentucky printed to sell at his performances.
He called it Farewell Song. Sixty years later a song scholar asked him, "What about this Farewell Song � �I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow� �
did you write it?" Richard Burnett answered, "No, I think I got the ballad from somebody. I dunno. It may be my song."
He certainly made it his own, even if he got it from somebody. Burnett sang:

"Oh, six long years I've been blind, friends. My pleasures here on Earth are done. In this world I have to ramble, for I have no parents to help me now."

When bluegrass pioneers The Stanley Brothers recorded the song, which they had learned from their father, they sang this verse as:

"For six long years I've been in trouble, no pleasure here on Earth I've found. For in this world, I'm bound to ramble. I have no friends to help me now."

Dylan at Concord sang this as:

"For six long years, I've been in trouble, no pleasure here on Earth I've found. I'm bound to ride that open highway. I have no friend to help me now."
(Or, perhaps, "I have no Friend to help me now.")

The other Stanley Brothers (and Burnett) verse Dylan did not sing in 1961 but does include in 1988 is:

"You may bury me in some deep valley, where many years I may lay. Then you might learn to love another, when I am sleeping in my grave."

The fact that Burnett called this Farewell Song, calling attention to his song's musical and emotional climax in the lines
"So fare you well my own true lover, I fear I never see you again" makes me notice that Dylan left these lines out of his 1961 recorded version
(he reinstates them powerfully in 1988) but made up for it in 1962 when he wrote in Don't Think Twice, It�s All Right
"Goodbye's too good a word gal, so I'll just say fare thee well" ... and wrote another song called "Farewell" that starts, "Oh it's fare thee well my darlin' true."

It is a song with a life of its own. Emry Arthur's 1928 "hillbilly record" of I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow touched many people,
and in 1936 Sarah Ogan Gunning recorded it as A Girl Of Constant Sorrow. Judy Collins named her first album (Maid Of Constant Sorrow, 1962)
after her own version of the song.

The acoustic set at Concord, even without harmonica (which was the heart and soul of Dylan's 1961 Man Of Constant Sorrow), was and is the high point of a strong show. The second song of the set, The Lakes Of Pontchartrain, powerfully expresses Dylan's interest, at this moment in his life, in using his voice and guitar and the attention of his audience, to tell stories. Indeed, it seemed at the time and still seems now, that the 1988 shows where he sang The Lakes Of Pontchartrain or Trail Of The Buffalo or Two Soldiers or Barbara Allen were built around and seemed to fulfill their purpose at these dramatic moments of musical storytelling. GE Smith's role in this, although his playing as second guitarist in the acoustic sets was skillful and tasteful, often intelligent and always appropriate, seems to have been primarily to boost Dylan's confidence by taking away the possibility that he would make a very audible mistake in his guitar playing, a possibility that would have worried him and made it difficult for him to be as present in his singing during the "solo" sets as he needed and wanted to be. Because of this new two-guitar format,
and Dylan's confidence in GE Smith's ability to "cover" him, Dylan was able to be more ambitious in the songs he chose to play and sing,
and to set higher goals for what he hoped to achieve, musically and emotionally, during this part of the show.

Now that it has been revealed, in Howard Sounes' biography Down The Highway, that Dylan secretly married one of his backup singers, Carolyn Dennis,
in June 1986, four months after the birth of their daughter Desiree, we can see that along with its many other attractions,
this song appealed to Dylan because it gave him a chance to sing about the beauty of a black or partly black woman:

"A dark girl towards me came, and I fell in love with a Creole girl on the lakes of Pontchartrain." "The hair upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell.
To try to paint her beauty, I'm sure 'twould be in vain, so handsome was my Creole girl."

This is a theme that has made oblique appearances in various Dylan songs over the years:

"The night is pitch black, come and make my pale face fit into place, ah, please!" (Spanish Harlem Incident, 1964);

"I return to the Queen of Spades and talk with my chambermaid. She knows that I'm not afraid to look at her." (I Want You, 1966);

"We are covered in blood, girl, you know our forefathers were slaves." (Precious Angel, 1979).

Sounes, writing about Dylan's 1978 tour, says, "It was not lost on the band that all these girlfriends were black.
�Bob is really into black culture. He likes black women. He likes black music. He likes black style,� says [guitar player] Billy Cross.
�When he asked for musical attitudes, they would always be black.� When [percussionist] Bobbye Hall was invited to Bob's suite for dinner,
she was surprised to find a banquet of soul food. �He ate soul food after every show. He seems to be infatuated by going out with black women.
He was infatuated with that whole black thing, even eating the food�.�

It is likely that Dylan in 1988 learned The Lakes Of Pontchartrain from an album by Irish folksinger Paul Brady.
Brady's album is called Welcome Here, Kind Stranger, the key phrase in the Pontchartrain ballad.
It seems worth noting that these words are like a rephrasing of a key line in a Dylan song (and, perhaps, in the story of his life):

"�Come in�, she said, �I�ll give you shelter from the storm�.�

The songs, Dylan told us in Newsweek in 1997, are his lexicon, the source of his religiosity and philosophy.
A lexicon is a dictionary, or the vocabulary of a particular person or group of people.
Shortly after seeing the Concord and Mountain View concerts, I wrote that
"I wasn't completely surprised to hear Dylan sing Man Of Constant Sorrow at Concord, because Rank Strangers To Me
[from his newly released album] is the Dylan performance that speaks most powerfully to my heart this year, and every time I hear the lines:

�They've all moved away, said the voice of a stranger
To that beautiful shore by the bright crystal sea

I think of Man Of Constant Sorrow:

�Your mother says I'm a stranger
My face you'll never see no more
But there's one promise, darling,
I'll see you on God's golden shore."

The recurrence of this word and image "shore" struck something in me as I listened to Dylan in spring 1988. "Stranger," of course,
is another word and image from this lexicon that links Rank Strangers To Me and Man Of Constant Sorrow,
and it could also be heard at Concord in Dylan's beautiful rendering of The Lakes Of Pontchartrain:

"All strangers there no friends to me, till a dark girl towards me came" and " 'You're welcome here, kind stranger,
our home is very plain but we never turn a stranger out, on the lakes of Pontchartrain.'"

Such recurrences, whether delivered and received consciously or unconsciously, do contribute to the overall impact of a concert performance
(and the cumulative impact of a series of performances heard via albums and at concerts and on concert tapes).
It is intriguing that "My face you'll never see no more" also recurs in Lakes Of Pontchartrain: "So faretheewell my Creole girl, I'll never see no more."
How does this resonate (consciously or unconsciously) with the fact that the next song in the Concord acoustic set,
Boots Of Spanish Leather, starts, "I'm sailing away my own true love, I'm sailing away in the morning"?
I think we feel the narrator's unspoken anguish at the possibility that he will never see her again.
And maybe on some deep level that word "morning" brings us back to these powerful lines from Man Of Constant Sorrow:

"I'm bound to ride that morning railroad / Perhaps I'll die on that train."

Boots Of Spanish Leather (first-ever concert performance) is quite moving. And then the mood changes abruptly and meaningfully
("trying to adjust the moods of the different songs can be tricky sometimes") with a surprisingly powerful Driftin' Too Far From Shore �
at Concord is an example of Dylan leading his band so successfully, with his voice and his presence and his rhythm guitar playing,
that the entire ensemble performance becomes an expression of one man's personality and spontaneous creative intent.
The sound is very different from the two-guitar solo acoustic set we've just been listening to, but the narrative flow of the concert is uninterrupted �
the juxtaposition of sounds and images and words and melodies and rhythms and situations continues to enthrall us
and stir us up in powerful ways that charmingly violate any expectations or ideas we may have had about who this artist is
and what he probably wants to say and achieve tonight. "I didn't know that you'd be leavin',
or who you thought you were talkin' to / I tried to reach you, honey, but you're driftin' too far from shore."
This could be addressed to the "you" of Boots Of Spanish Leather, though Dylan at Concord doesn't sing the first of these sentences
from the "official" album version (and, now, website lyrics) of the song. He does not seem to remember the words to the verses of this song,
so he ad-libs slurred "dummy" lyrics suitable to the meter and mood but in any case, the important thing is that it sounds so wonderful!
The drums, the guitars, the voice blend into a single, very expressive, nonverbal voice. Indeed, at moments like this
(including each of the marvelous acoustic performances at Concord, and the earnest reading of In The Garden that ends the first electric set
and opens us for the revelations of the next few songs),
we listeners have an opportunity to meet the new, June 1988, evolution of the performing artist whose name is on the marquee tonight.
He clearly has something to tell us. There is a feel to the overall sound of each song that seems equivalent to the ambitious self-expression
found in this artist's early writings and performances.
Dylan might not be able to answer our questions about what it is he is trying to say. But he says it with such conviction,
such charming and inventive artistry, that we find ourselves finding meaning here, recognizing ourselves, our world, our feelings in these songs and performances.
For the performer and the audience, the gateway to a new kind of audience-artist relationship is opening.
In this case, it is the gateway to Dylan's Never Ending Tour, a new art form and format which, he says,
he was inspired to create or search for after watching The Grateful Dead perform in the summers of 1986 and 1987.

As he did at the start of the fall 1987 tour, Dylan varied his set lists considerably, Grateful-Dead-fashion, at his first 1988 shows.

The second concert, Sacramento, only included two songs that had been played at the first concert. The third concert included nine songs from the previous shows, and eight that were new to the tour. Nine more songs were introduced at the next show, so that 40 different songs were played in the first four concerts of 1988. By the 15th show, 62 different songs had been played. And in spite of a few predictable slots � Subterranean Homesick Blues first every night, Like A Rolling Stone closing the show (before the encores) every night, Maggie's Farm the last encore most nights, and Silvio the first or second song in the second electric set almost every night after its introduction at the ninth show � the set lists continued to vary significantly night after night, with few repeating sequences. The last ten shows of the year, from 22 September to 19 October 1988, offered three different songs in the #2 position, five different songs in the #3 lot, five different #4s, and five different #5s. Highway 61 Revisited closed he first set nine times during those last ten shows, followed by One Too Many Mornings three times and by an acoustic Gates Of Eden four times. The acoustic sets at those ten shows featured nine different songs, although the acoustic set at the last four shows of the year (all at Radio City Music Hall) did repeat the same three songs in the same order almost every night. Altogether, 33 different songs were played during the last ten shows of 1988 (not including a post-tour Dylan appearance when he did six acoustic songs at a benefit concert in December 1988). And Dylan managed to surprise ind delight his fans at the 66th show of the year, Upper Darby on 13 October 1988, by singing Bob Dylan's 115th Dream ("I was ridingin the Mayflower, when I thought I spied some land"), a song he had never played live before, and then ending the show with Every Grain Of Sand � his fourth performance of this major work during 1988, a song he had not sung on stage since 1984.

The leader of Dylan's 1988-1989 band, GE (George Edward) Smith, had been the frontman of the Saturday Night Live television how band since 1985.
He played lead guitar for the "blue-eyed soul" duo Hall And Oates from 1979 to 1985, and can be heard on heir #1 hit singles Kiss On My List, Private Eyes and I Can't Go For That. Bass player Kenny Aaronson had also had the experience of playing in a group with a #1 record, Stories (their hit was Brother Louie, summer 1973). Aaronson joined Dylan's band only a few weeks before the 1988 tour started, after Dylan decided original bassist Marshall Crenshaw's six-string bass "did not fill the sound out enough." The third bandmember, Christopher Parker, also a New Yorker, was an experienced recording session drummer who played with GE Smith in the Saturday Night Live band. This was the smallest backing band Dylan had ever toured with. Clinton Heylin calls them "a tough, punchy, no-frills band." Andrew Muir, in Razor's Edge: Bob Dylan & The Never Ending Tour says, "They looked and sounded like a band of rock �n� roll gangsters from the wrong side of the tracks."

At Concord, and the other three Bay Area shows that opened the 1988 tour, Dylan and the band were joined onstage by Neil Young. He played guitar on all of the electric songs, all four nights. That is, he could be seen playing � few of us who were at the shows could actually hear him playing; nor is there much evidence of the distinctive sound of Young's electric guitar on the recordings of the shows, though I hear an attractive solo that sounds very much like it could be his near the end of You're A Big Girl Now on the Concord tape. One friend of mine swears he hears Young's guitar on the Berkeley Gates Of Eden. In any case, Young's enthusiastic presence onstage (and his playing, as heard in the monitors if not the PA) may have helped spark the particularly spirited band and vocal performance of Like A Rolling Stone at Concord (leagues above the Rock �N� Roll Hall Of Fame all-star jam version).

Dylan, in rehearsing the songs he was likely to include in his 1988 tour, paid uncharacteristic attention to songs he was singing at the very start of his career,
in 1961. The first song of his acoustic set at each of the first four 1988 shows is one he recorded in 1961 for his first album �
Man Of Constant Sorrow at Concord and Mountain View, Baby, Let Me Follow You Down at Sacramento, and San Francisco Bay Blues at Berkeley.
Three weeks later, in Mansfield, Massachusetts on 2 July 1988, he sang another song from that album, Pretty Peggy-O, early in the first electric set.
14 July 1988, on the outskirts of Chicago, he opened his acoustic set with Song To Woody, also from his first album.
25 June 1988, the acoustic set opened with Trail Of The Buffalo, a song that can be heard (like San Francisco Bay Blues)
on a recording of Dylan performing at the home of some friends of Woody Guthrie's very early in 1961. 22 June 1988,
he opened his second set with Wild Mountain Thyme, another song that turns up on an early-1961 recording of Dylan performing for friends.
Other songs performed on the 1988 tour that he was probably singing as early as 1961 are Barbara Allen and Wagoner's Lad.

We can infer that Dylan in spring 1988 devised a strategy for "getting back there" to the meaning of his own work without emergency assistance from Jerry Garcia.
Remember what he said in 1993 he heard in U2: "Just more of a thread back to the music that got me inspired and into it.
They are actually rooted someplace and they respect that tradition. They work within a certain boundary which has a history to it,
and then they can do their own thing on top of that. I don't know how anybody can do anything and not be connected someplace back there."
Hence this 1988 gambit. Listen to Dylan sing (and emphasize, stretch out) the word "I" in the lines "I am a man of constant sorrow"
and "I bid farewell to old Kentucky" and "I'm bound to ride that open highway" in spring 1988, and I think you can actually hear a person getting connected,
and discovering and creating a platform on which to do his work as a performer.

I saw (attended) ten of the 71 shows Dylan and his new band played during their 1988 tour of North America.
I enjoyed all of them thoroughly, and felt deeply enriched every time. But the primary source material for this study of one performer's work must be �
for the sake of accuracy and some possibility of common ground between reader and author � recorded performances rather than recollections of concerts attended.
And the 1988 shows, as recorded performances, offer few examples of this artist doing his very best work.
Yes, Gates Of Eden from 13 June 1988 is extraordinary, and Lakes Of Pontchartrain from 7 June 1988 and Two Soldiers from 9 June 1988
and various other 1988 acoustic "cover" song performances are quite wonderful.
But there do not seem to be as many such moments scattered among the tapes of the shows as I would wish.
And it is not easy for me to find a full recorded show from 1988 about which I can wax as enthusiastic as I did in chapters four and five
about Dortmund and Munich and other fall 1987 tapes.

1988 was the start of something exceptional: Dylan's Never Ending Tour. Like almost every new environment Dylan has created for himself
or found himself in as a performing artist, the "Interstate '88" band and tour concept was an experiment.
Its longevity (not with the original players, but as a format and as an approach to the task of being Dylan, live performer)
bespeaks its success at meeting the needs of the singer and of his audiences. Like a long-running Broadway show, it evidently has pleased somebody.
But the success of the artistry is another matter � and my particular interest in this study.
The Never Ending Tour has produced a remarkable number of great performances, great works of art, over the years.
But not quite as many in its maiden year as I had expected to find, based on my memories of seeing the shows and of listening to the tapes back then.

What I am trying to say, I guess, is that these books have been (and will continue to be) an argument for and exegesis about Dylan's greatness as an artist,
specifically a performing artist, and my approach has tended to be to focus on examples of that greatness
as they turn up in the course of this chronological survey � but 1988, although a turning point, was not a bumper year for greatness.
It was a year when almost any of the shows was a true pleasure and very rewarding for the Dylan fans who happened to be there.
But listening to the recordings (tapes, CDs, etc.), one finds a lot of very good (though seldom "great") performances
alongside a lot of disappointingly routine stretches (depending on the mood the listener is in, these can be quite enjoyable;
but seldom are they examples of the artist being particularly awake and present within his song and performance).
Dylan is comfortable with his band in 1988, and that means he is able to be as reliable an entertainer as live performers are expected to be.
But for connoisseurs of Dylan's "accidental" art, good entertainment is not satisfying.
We prefer moments of transcendent awakeness, those moments when, to quote the man again,
"songs are heroic enough to give the illusion of stopping time" and "to hear a song is to hear someone's thought, no matter what they're describing."

***

Andrew Muir

"The people themselves will tell you when to stop touring"
"I really don't have any place to put my feet up. We want to play because we want to play. Why tour? It's just that you get accustomed to it over the years.
The people themselves will tell you when to stop touring." Dylan, 5 August 1988, Interview by Kathryn Baker, Associated Press.

I cannot recall exactly who told me, but early in the summer of 1988 I became aware that Dylan had started a new tour with a small band,
was playing some hard-hitting, rock-driven shows and was looking far healthier than in 1987.
I also knew that Neil Young had guested on guitar for a number of shows and that Dylan was tending to play theatres rather than arenas.
It all sounded very exciting. As I had been living abroad and was not part of the world of Dylan fandom at the time,
I had to settle for what few scraps of information were given out by the regular music press and what I garnered from my cousin Andy.
This only heightened my anticipation, so it was with great expectation that I awaited the tapes Andy would forward to me.
Unsurprisingly, the first ones I received were from the opening shows. So let us go back in time to Concord, to where it all began.

After the years of big bands, string sections, horns and female backing singers, it must have been quite a shock to see Dylan take the stage
flanked only by a three-piece band: Chris Parker on drums, GE Smith on lead guitar and Kenny Aaronson on bass.
They looked and sounded like a band of rock �n� roll gangsters from the wrong side of the tracks.
Neil Young was there too, though his presence was barely audible.

The opening show started with a shock as a fairly throaty Dylan sped through his first ever live performance of Subterranean Homesick Blues.
This proved so successful an opener that it remained in the starting slot throughout 1988.
It was followed by an even greater live debut in Absolutely Sweet Marie,
a point often overlooked by commentators in their excitement over Subterranean Homesick Blues.
This classic Blonde On Blonde song was treated to an aggressive rendition, with Dylan's voice exploding into action
as though he had been longing to get back to stripped-down rockers.

Guitars riffing like machine guns propelled Dylan next into an ominous Masters Of War. After this opening hard-hitting three-song salvo,
Dylan's voice had shed all vestiges of rustiness and the subsequent You're A Big Girl Now had strong, clear vocals.
Dylan now allowed himself a bit of space to squeeze tremendous emotion from phrases such as "back in the rain".
There were many more fine versions of this song to come in 1988, Dylan even rewriting a verse as the shows progressed.
This was hardly remarked upon at the time, as rewriting a song from Blood On The Tracks for live performance was not unusual in those days;
it certainly would cause more than a ripple in fan circles in later years.

Dylan's first address to an NET audience followed: "All right, thank you; we got Neil Young here playing tonight."
Then he swung into Gotta Serve Somebody, a song that allows him the pleasure of playing around with rhyming couplets without changing the import of the chorus.
Despite being given a kick-ass treatment it displayed a refreshing jauntiness, with Dylan enjoying changing the emphasis and playing with the song's title line.

A dramatic, declamatory In The Garden was next, just in case anyone had missed the previous song's Christian message amidst the exuberant, playful delivery.
As a song, In The Garden just shades the early finger-pointing of Who Killed Davey Moore? in subtlety; the browbeating, rhetorical questioning
has the same bludgeoning effect. When Dylan is into the song, though, as he was here, it drives along with power and sweeps you up in the moment.
He performed it in a challenging, ranting style to close the first electric set; setting a trend for this spot in NET sets to be occupied by a theatrically key song.
A trend which was, with only a few exceptions, to last for a long time.

The shocks did not stop. The acoustic set opened with Man Of Constant Sorrow, a traditional song that Dylan had covered on his debut album so many years before.
This alternate version was beautiful, a splendid arrangement with expressive vocals.
It was a worthy beginning to the extraordinary procession of traditional songs that Dylan would cover over the years of the NET.
Night after night, year after year, they have supplied many of the high points.
So fully does Dylan inhabit these numbers that they often sound more like Dylan songs than some he has penned himself.
This was especially obvious in some later years, when, unlike 1988, he would sometimes toss off his own most familiar material
with no feeling of being engaged in his own songs at all, and then suddenly come to life when interpreting a folk standard.

Back at Concord 1988, he was about to play another: The Lakes Of Pontchartrain, a magnificent, timeless song of unfulfilled love
("I asked her if she would marry me, she said that never could be / For she had got a lover, and he was far off at sea").
In Dylan's hands, both here and many times since, you live the story with and through him.
The same theme of unfulfilled love shot through Dylan's contemporary album Down In The Groove in songs such as Ninety Miles An Hour (Down A Dead End Street):
"You're not free to come along with me / And you know I could never be your own".

So, the new record seemed, at this moment, to be present in spirit, though I doubt that this was much comfort to the record company executives
who would surely have preferred to hear Dylan sing actual tracks from Down In The Groove.
Then again fans who bought that release, which was so short on quality and in length,
would have preferred the inclusion on the record of a few more traditional songs like The Lakes Of Pontchartrain.

Dylan brought this riveting acoustic set to an end with one of his own 'traditional' sounding songs, giving us an appealing version of Boots Of Spanish Leather.

Somewhere along the way the audience may have noticed they had no opportunity to give the customary rousing acclaim to Dylan's harmonica-playing.
In yet another surprise, Dylan never played harmonica on the 1988 tour.

The second electric set opened with another debut, Driftin' Too Far From Shore.
It was too much to expect this feeble work to follow comfortably in the footsteps of the marvellous songs just played.
Nonetheless, the first live outing of a newish Dylan song was exciting in itself, even if it was played as though it was the Julius And Ethel out-take from Infidels.
The song itself is such a minor one that it was held over from the impoverished Empire Burlesque album
and released on its near-catastrophic successor, Knocked Out Loaded. It shows. Driftin' Too Far From Shore also formed the B-side of Dylan's current single.
The A-side, Silvio, was soon to be unveiled in concert and would feature prominently for years to come.

Another surprise followed in an electric version of the usually acoustic Gates Of Eden; it was slow, but punchy and dramatic with a biting delivery.
The guitar parts had obviously been worked on, and formed a compelling backdrop against which Dylan revealed his vision.

Like A Rolling Stone was the crowd-pleasing closer; Dylan was clearly enjoying himself too, giving an open throated laugh as he sang "secrets to conceal".
The audience's rapture was further increased by a foot-stomping encore of Maggie's Farm, preceded by Dylan thanking, with marvellous intonation,
"You people for being so nice".

And that was that: 13 songs, approximately 70 minutes of prime Dylan, classic rock 'n' roll with an acoustic set from folk heaven,
a hugely enthusiastic crowd and a patently in-high-spirits performer. What more could you want?
Well, quite a lot more if you were writing for the San Francisco newspapers. With a history of antipathy towards Dylan, they launched yet another offensive.

The Examiner's Philip Elwood, in an article entitled "Dylan Show Sinks Like A Lolling Stone", gleefully crowed that the Concord Pavilion was "barely half full",
that Dylan "mumbled" and that nearly all the songs were "both unrecognisable and unintelligibly sung",
while "Dylan's vocals were so poorly defined and so lacking in melody that most were at a loss to catch any lyric thread or phrase."

Now this book is not going to claim that all of Dylan's thousands of shows have been magical and I freely,
admit to having been to shows where Mr Elwood's comments would have been very hard to refute.
However, even though my original tape was rather lo-fi, I could always tell that he was misreporting here.
Most songs were played at a fast pace, but the vocals were clearly intelligible.
In more recent years a soundboard recording has emerged which further underlines the point that this review is a wilful misrepresentation
of Dylan's singing that night. Mr Elwood may have been right that Neil Young's guitar was "kept so low his playing was seldom clearly defined";
however, Neil was just a guest dropping in, his prominence or lack thereof was no great matter.

Joel Selvin of The Chronicle also accused Dylan of "mumbling" and even went to the unforgivable length of unfavourably comparing Dylan's rendition
of Like A Rolling Stone to a live version by John Cougar Mellencamp. He also wrote, in comments that make one doubt he actually heard, say, You're A Big Girl Now:
"(Dylan) failed utterly to appear as if he cared in the slightest about what he was doing.... Dylan managed to perform the set in relative darkness....
There were ragged endings, a sloppy mix and a tentative, uncertain ensemble sound.... There were no particular highlights or dramatic moments,
just a flat, uninspired, almost rote recitation of inconsequential selections."

Selvin further complained that Dylan stuck to "an undistinguished lot of songs drawn from throughout his career".
This is 'criticism' that should surely be praise; needless to say, Dylan often gets castigated for doing the opposite.
For many years after this, Dylan's set-lists relied heavily on songs from a handful of famous albums.
When asked in an interview why he played all the old �hits�, Dylan replied that when he tried to play new songs people did not like it.

With comments such as "He boasts one of the deepest repertoires of great songs anybody could claim but roundly ignored the cornerstones,
other than the obligatory Like A Rolling Stone", this journalist might be one of those responsible for Dylan's frequent reliance on old material.
It was such a ridiculous complaint and meant that the audiences, who wanted something new,
were denied it due to Dylan's stated perception that when he tried to play new songs "people didn't like it".
People did like it; the more influential San Francisco journalists, alas, did not.

Dylan was also criticised for the brevity of his Concord set, an extremely odd reaction when you consider the superlative quality of those 70 minutes.
It makes one wonder if the reviewers would prefer two hours of someone in third gear followed by a high energy encore to over an hour
of someone in top gear throughout.

A soundboard recording comes directly from the mixing board at a concert.
The sound quality is obviously much superior to that of a concert recording as the sound is captured close to the artist's mouth.
In many cases these give a more faithful impression of the show than even officially released live albums which are often edited,
spliced from various shows and enhanced in the studio. The downside is that although the lack of audience noise is usually a boon,
the lack of it also changes the atmosphere. Audiences are not necessarily totally unheard on soundboard tapes
but they are so muted that you often can lose the feel of �being at� a show.
Another drawback is that the mixing board sound is not intended for audiences' ears and can be rather flat sounding.
Overall, however, their near studio quality makes them highly prized and they give the best chance to relive the event.

***

Concord Pavilion
Concord, California
7 June 1988

1.Man Of Constant Sorrow (trad. arr. by Bob Dylan)

First concert of The Never-Ending Tour.
First concert of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
First concert with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on Man Of Constant Sorrow.

First live performance of Man Of Constant Sorrow since 1961.

LB-0252;
Taper: Legendary Taper D (LTD);
Equipment: Sennheiser MKE-2002 > Sony WM 6

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Cal Expo Amphitheatre
Sacramento, California
9 June 1988

2.The Man In Me
3.I Shall Be Released
4.Baby Let Me Follow You Down (Eric von Schmidt)
5.Two Soldiers (trad.)
6.Had A Dream About You, Baby

Second concert of The Never-Ending Tour.
Second concert of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Second concert with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on:
Baby Let Me Follow You Down,
Two Soldiers.

Live debuts:
Two Soldiers,
Had A Dream About You, Baby.

No encores.

LB-0546

Excellent sound [A].

***

Andrew Muir

Dylan's next stop was at Sacramento. After an opening show that was wonderful for the fans, but rocky in terms of attendance and press reaction,
the tour was about to nearly run aground. If Concord was not a long set, the Sacramento show, 12 songs and no encore,
clocking in at under one hour, was to be by far the shortest of the tour.

The story goes that Dylan was in a foul mood and stormed off without encores as he was disappointed by the size of the crowd,
which was less than half the 12,000 capacity. It is also possible that he had seen the San Francisco Examiner and Chronicle reviews.
Dylan may say that he ignores reviews but there has been many a bitter retort from him to negative press comments over the years,
and he was to answer one of the newspapers' jibes just a couple of shows later.
Certainly the show was so much shorter than any other gig on the tour that you feel Dylan must have been disturbed by something,
but writing the whole show off as a disaster simply cannot be supported by the recorded evidence.
By the end of the set Dylan may well have been upset, but there seems no indication that he was at the beginning when one listens to the audio.

The first thing to mention about the Sacramento show is that only two songs � the opener and closer � were repeated from the first night,
repaying fans who went to consecutive shows as well as highlighting that the tour was in its formative days.

A typically rambunctious 1988 performance of Subterranean Homesick Blues was followed by an unexpected electric set slot for It's All Over Now, Baby Blue.
A brave choice this, especially before his voice had warmed up, but it was a fine performance,
although there are elements of what Mick Ronson once termed Dylan's 'Yogi Bear' voice.
Considering Mr Ronson was referring to the Rolling Thunder Tour he could not have been more wrong at the time,
though there have certainly been times in the NET when the remark has been ruefully recalled.

The Man In Me was another bolt from the blue and another excellent delivery. With the story surrounding this show,
I was prepared for a Verona 1984-type shambles, where Dylan treated the opening gigs of the tour as rehearsals;
however, this is not at all what you hear when listening to the opening of the show.
A scorching Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again got the biggest cheer of the night so far,
and was followed by I Shall Be Released and Ballad Of A Thin Man with both featuring strong vocals.

Even though the songs changed so much between the opening nights you can see that Dylan had a fixed set structure in his mind.
As at Concord, the acoustic set opened with a song covered by Dylan at the beginning of his career,
then there was a traditional folk song and finally an old favourite from the early days.
Then, again as at Concord, Dylan opened the second electric set with a new song, or �obscure song�, as the press would call them.
In another indication that he does indeed read the press coverage, this led to Dylan's remarking, after playing I'll Remember You at the fourth show of the tour,
at Mountain View, California: "I don't think that's an obscure song. Do you think that's an obscure song? I don't think so!"

Baby, Let Me Follow You Down, a song that saw sterling service in 1966 and at The Band's farewell concert, The Last Waltz,
appeared in the same slot as Man Of Constant Sorrow, another cover song that appeared on Dylan's first LP.
It was great to hear it again and the audience responded enthusiastically.
The Lakes Of Pontchartrain was replaced by a cover of another traditional folk song, Two Soldiers.
Dylan was straining his voice, a little uneasy at having to hit some difficult notes, and yet this was far from a poor performance.
On first receiving the tape I already knew of the furore surrounding the gig but re-listening to it later, searching, as I did back then,
for things that sound wrong, I cannot hear them. If you start to look for something, you can wrongly convince yourself you have found it
and I think that may have affected some commentators looking back at this controversial night.
Unsurprisingly, given the quality of the performance, there was loud applause at the song's end.
So, there has been no sign yet that Dylan was in the reported �sulk�, �foul mood� or �rage�.

Certainly, the noise the crowds made throughout Dylan's beautifully crafted and executed acoustic set would give him just cause for being angry.
However, this happens every night and either he does not hear it or he rises above it.
There is no reason to suppose Sacramento should be regarded differently to every other night in this regard.
Girl Of The North Country followed Two Soldiers, it was not outstanding but it was more than passable.
You can hear somebody shouting: "Everybody back! Everybody back!" followed by an excited melee and much cheering.
Perhaps there was a stage rush, but this usually delights rather than irritates Dylan.
Nonetheless, it was from this point onwards that the show began to deteriorate.

The electric set opened with yet another debut, and for a new Dylan song at that, from Down In The Groove.
Unfortunately, it was the sub-standard Had A Dream About You, Baby, but at least live Dylan and the audience could have some fun with it.
Not surprisingly, given that the song dates from the ill-advised and ill-fated 1986 Hearts Of Fire movie, Dylan sounded more like he did in 1986 than 1988.
It is not possible to tell if there is a real problem with Dylan singing this song or not as it is just a thrash.
However it is undeniable that the feeling of the more �distant� Dylan of 1986 rather than the, up to now, vibrant 1988 version persisted
in the old favourite that followed, Just Like A Woman.

Some of the early part of the show's freshness and vitality had been lost; nonetheless, Dylan does not sound like he was merely going through the motions
and it is significant that the crowd certainly were loving it. When the predictable choice of Maggie's Farm closed the second electric set,
there was still no sign that Dylan was annoyed. Granted, he was galloping through the set, but then he did so throughout the 1988 tour.
Granted also, he sounded nowhere near as strong at the end of the show as he did at the beginning; but, again, this is hardly shocking.
We were only on the second night of a new tour, and his voice and energy levels might just have been flagging before he got back into the touring routine.

Whatever the problem was, Dylan left after 12 songs and did not return. The set was only one song shorter than at Concord,
but the unannounced, abrupt ending and the psychological effect of the show being under an hour made it seem far shorter.
Encores were expected, at the very least. Some in the audience no doubt hoped that Dylan's departure signalled only a mid-show break,
with the second half still to come. Their disappointment soon turned to anger and the night ended in acrimony
that further inflamed the long-standing bad feeling toward Dylan in the local press.
A vicious circle was in danger of dragging down the tour that had started so well at Concord.

***

Greek Theatre
University Of California
Berkeley, California
10 June 1988

7.Joey (Bob Dylan & Jacques Levy)
8.San Francisco Bay Blues (Jesse Fuller)
9.It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry
10.In The Garden
11.Gates Of Eden
12.Rank Strangers To Me (A. Brumley)
13.Everybody's Movin' (Glen Trout)

Third concert of The Never-Ending Tour.
Third concert of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Third concert with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on:
DSan Francisco Bay Blues,
Rank Strangers To Me.

Neil Young (guitar) on:
It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry,
In The Garden,
Gates Of Eden,
Everybody's Movin'.

Live debuts of:
Rank Strangers To Me,
Everybody's Movin'.

First live performance of San Francisco Bay Blues since 1961.

LB-1187;
Taper: Christian Behrand (CB)

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Andrew Muir

After the dust had settled on Sacramento, renowned concert promoter Bill Graham is alleged to have informed Dylan that this would not do;
that he would have to make a greater effort to please his audience or he would lose it altogether. The result?
Dylan pulled up his socks and delivered a brilliant 17 song, 90-minute plus set at Berkeley and went on to complete a glorious tour.
This is the received wisdom, yet it just does not sound at all like Dylan.
It seems absurd, given his career, to view him as a naughty schoolboy, who, when rebuked, turns into a star pupil.
In addition, Berkeley is often blessed with special shows, and opening concerts are often greatly at variance with what follows on Dylan tours.
As a strong example of that, the first four shows in 1988 contained about half of the songs played in the whole year.

Whether the alleged warning from Bill Graham changed Dylan's plans for the tour, or whether Dylan just had an �off� ending to the night
after the acoustic set at Sacramento for some reason or another, we will probably never know for sure.

Still, after Berkeley's 17-song feast (including many songs that were not played in the first two shows, Rank Strangers To Me among them),
the set lists/ structure settled down to a fairly consistent pattern of 15 or 16 songs per night (though there were a large number of 14s and 17s too),
rising on special occasions and peaking with a 21-song set at Upper Darby, Pennsylvania on 13 October 1988,
as Dylan warmed up for the concluding dates that had been added at New York's Radio City Music Hall in response to the rave notices posted as the tour progressed.

Generally speaking there were six or seven electric songs, followed by three or four acoustic numbers (on which GE Smith accompanied Dylan).
Dylan would then return for another three or four electric numbers and round it all off with a one- or two-song encore.
Surprises continued throughout the 71-date tour, with some 87 different songs being played.

Contrary to the poor turnouts early in the tour, the Radio City residency was a complete sell-out; and, in the middle of those shows, The Travelling Wilburys
(a 'supergroup' consisting of Bob Dylan Roy Orbison, George Harrison, Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne) released their first album, to huge acclaim and impressive sales.
Throughout 1988 I continued to receive tapes of the tour, and it soon became evident that a key facet of the shows was the way in which Dylan was, yet again,
defying attempts to pigeon-hole him. Though set-lists were dominated by the greatest hits from his folk and rock phases from the 1960s,
the mixture of songs played included country, rockabilly, gospel, Tin Pan Alley and traditional folk.
I remember various shows that I carried around on my Walkman; the one from George on 20 August 1988, for example,
where there was the following comment from the audience after Highway 61 Revisited: "It's much better than I thought it would be".
This simple statement could stand as a verdict on the whole tour.

I remember from that show, too, the pile-driving rhythm and the glorious extended "eee" endings in "Absolutely Sweet Marie",
and I recall listening intently to the way he enthusiastically pronounced the words to fit a new stop-start rhythm in "You're A Big Girl Now".
There were so many other gems from other shows that people started making and trading compilation tapes.
These tapes included celebrated performances such as that of the rarely played, exquisite I Dreamed I Saw St Augustine from John Wesley Harding.
It was almost as if Dylan had deliberately plucked out a song from his own back catalogue which, although seldom played live,
would surely survive for as many hundreds of years as the treasures from the trove of traditional songs that he was performing nightly with such care and intensity.

There was even a splendid Joey, a modern tale told as a fable with truth so far removed in its words that it seems at home amongst the myths from yesteryear.
This song would often be attempted live in the years that followed (albeit seldom with its lyrics correctly remembered), but never more successfully than in 1988.
Then there was My Back Pages, which was totally recast with, aptly enough, Byrds-like celebratory guitars chiming while Dylan's voice veered from anxious
to a laughing, dismissive tone on "rip down all hate". As the performance progressed, the song regained its original,
confident declamation due to the driving beat of the tight band.

There were tremendous single outings, too, for License To Kill, One More Cup Of Coffee (Valley Below), and Tomorrow Is A Long Time.
Dylan also gave us, though you would be forgiven for thinking this was not the musical setting for it, a one-off performance of Visions Of Johanna.
When he played Ballad Of Hollis Brown at Alpine Valley on 18 June 1988 (another "Walkman" favourite show, incidentally)
it was interpreted as an oblique sign of support for local farmers then enduring a drought.
Since it was the sole performance in the year, this seemed a reasonable assumption; and even though its next appearances would be at Helsinki, Dublin and London
(in 1989) and would be harder to fit into this theory, the 1989 performances were electric, while the 1988 one was both unique to that year and acoustic.
Song To Woody made it four songs from Dylan's debut album, and there were a few outings for The Ballad Of Frankie Lee And Judas Priest,
for which, presumably, we have to credit The Grateful Dead. Even Bob Dylan's 115th Dream was unexpectedly debuted in one of the Upper Darby 'warm-up' gigs
for the Radio City Music Hall residency. It was a year of surprises and of magnificent shows.

Most of all, though, I remember marvelling at the wonderful cover versions. They sprang up all over the place, in show after show,
compilation tape after compilation tape. Some were played but once, some a few times and others became commonplace.
But it was the breadth of sources that was most impressive: from Across The Borderline to Give My Love To Rose; Eileen Aroon to Pretty Peggy-O;
Wagoner's Lad to Wild Mountain Thyme and I'm In The Mood For Love to Trail Of The Buffalo.jk

Of these, the first to strike home were the traditional songs. As far back as 1966, in the Playboy interview with Nat Hentoff,
Dylan had hinted at how important these songs were to him:

"Traditional music is based on hexagrams. It comes about from legends, bibles, plagues, and it revolves around vegetables and death.
All these songs about roses growing out of people's brains and lovers who are really geese and swans that turn into angels.
I mean you'd think that the traditional-music people could gather from their songs that mystery is a fact,
a traditional fact I could give you a descriptive detail of what they do to me, but some people would probably think my imagination had gone mad."

The NET has been honoured, year after year, by Dylan singing traditional songs and giving us every descriptive detail his immense interpretative powers
can imbue them with.

Barbara Allen, played in a variety of ways, was a regular standout. I swear that on some nights the way he sang the words:
"Oh yes oh yes, I'm very sick, and I will not be better" was worth the admission price alone.
The same could be said for any version of Lakes Of Pontchartrain or Eileen Aroon both of which consistently provided yet further evidence
of how incomparable a communicator Dylan is. Here, in later life, if he could not manage the vocal brilliance of his staggering early-1960s rendition
of the traditional Moonshiner Blues, as his vocal range was already diminished (relative to those heady days), he could still manage a breathtaking delivery.

The brilliance of the song, with a melody, lyric and conceit that seem as old as expression itself, was given full and deserved embodiment in Dylan's delivery.
The following lines, when sung by Dylan in 1988, surpassed even Robert Browning's masterly poetic encapsulation of the identical sentiment in Love Among The Ruins.

Youth will in time decay,
Eileen Aroon
Beauty must fade away
Eileen Aroon
Castles are sacked in war
Chieftains are scattered far
Truth is a fixed star
Eileen Aroon

The deliberate emphasis on the ending of fixed was only one of many �goose-bump� moments.

And all this from a man they say cannot sing. You want to ask such detractors to define �singing�,
for whatever they mean by the word can only be a limited sub-branch of what we hear when Dylan performs like this.
We are not just listening to a singer, accomplished or otherwise, retelling a tale and pushing the buttons of our emotional responses.
Instead we are involved in the story, in myth. We are dragged, perhaps even reluctantly,
towards what Dylan described in that famous 1966 Playboy interview as "the one true, valid death you can feel today off a record player".

Dylan could also cover modern songs to similar dramatic effect. The pick of these was Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, unveiled in Montreal on 8 July 1988,
presumably as a tribute to the Canadian poet and songwriter. The way Dylan performed it made it sound like a brand new masterpiece of his own.
I first heard the song when Cohen closed a fine show in Helsinki with it three years earlier; but listening to Dylan perform this notable song,
which was later to become a hit in more than one cover version, was like hearing it for the first time.
Cohen was reportedly delighted when hearing the news of the tribute, but he would have been ecstatic if he had heard what a majestic version it was.
(Dylan played it one more time, and in a very different but equally effective style, on 24 August 1988,
the last of three splendid nights at the Greek Theatre, Hollywood.)

***

Shoreline Amphitheatre
Mountain View, California
11 June 1988

14.My Back Pages
15.I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine
16.Shelter From The Storm

Concert # 4 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 4 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 4 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Neil Young (guitar) on:
I Dreamed I Saw St Augustine,
Shelter From The Storm.

BobTalk:

Everything's all right? (after My Back Pages)

LB-2565;
Taper: markp;
Equipment: Nakamichi CM300(cp4) > Sony tcd5m > nakamichi cr-1a >
hhb cdr830 > EAC > Flac 1.1.2 with tags > easytree

Good sound [B].

***

Park West
Park City
Salt Lake City, Utah
13 June 1988

17.I'll Be Your Baby Tonight
18.License To Kill

Concert # 5 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 5 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 5 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

BobTalk:

OK! Everything's alright? Everything's OK?
(after I'll Be Your Baby Tonight)

LB-0992;
xref-00010;
Leave No Stone Unturned (Southside Butcher Production)

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Paul Williams

I need to step out of time and chronology for a moment and advance to 13 June 1988 in Park City, Utah,
and a performance of Gates Of Eden by Dylan, GE Smith, Kenny Aaronson and Christopher Parker that � similar to �Visions Of Madonna" on 26 July 1999
and Like A Rolling Stone (second run-through) on 15 June 1965 � cuts to the heart of who Dylan is and what his songs mean
(that riddle he had had such a hard time grasping a year before) and what he lives and performs for.

It was the fifth show of the Never Ending Tour and the third time Dylan and his 1988 band played this song onstage.
The first time (at the opening show of the NET, in Concord, California, 7 June 1988) was in fact the first time Dylan had ever performed Gates Of Eden onstage
in an electric version (with an amplified band rather than solo acoustic). It was also the first time he had performed the song publicly since 1978.

I am going to go on for a while about this one performance (and for good reason), and first I would like to share with you
what the six-thousand-year-old Chinese oracle the I Ching just told me about Dylan's 13 June 1988 performance of Gates Of Eden:

�A crane calling in the shade.
Its young answers it.
I have a good goblet.
I will share it with you.�

This refers to the involuntary influence of a man's inner being upon persons of kindred spirit. The crane need not show itself on a high hill.
It may be quite hidden when it sounds its call; yet its young will hear its note, will recognize it and give answer.
Where there is a joyous mood, there a comrade will appear to share a glass of wine.

�This is the echo awakened in men through spiritual attraction. Whenever a feeling is voiced with truth and frankness,
whenever a deed is the clear expression of sentiment, a mysterious and far-reaching influence is exerted.
The root of all influence lies in one's own inner being; given true and vigorous expression in word and deed, its effect is great.
The effect is but the reflection of something that emanates from one's own heart.
Any deliberate intention of an effect would only destroy the possibility of producing it.�
Richard Wilhelm / Cary Baynes translation of the I Ching, 1967 edition, Inner Truth.

Spiritual attraction. Dylan's reputation rests, in my way of looking at it, not only on his songwriting
but on individual performances of songs like A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall and Desolation Row and Gates Of Eden and It's Alright, Ma (I�m Only Bleeding)
and Like A Rolling Stone, live performances in a recording studio that were released on records
and that delivered the "meanings� of these songs with such conviction and impact (such "true and vigorous expression")
that multitudes of listeners then and since have recognized and celebrated these works as the uncanny,
brilliant reflection of something that emanates from their own hearts as well as his.
The genius of the man, I argue, is not so much located in his writing as in his performing � at certain remarkable and memorable moments � of those writings.
I believe that neither Jerry Garcia nor anyone else could have "grasped the meaning" of Dylan's songs nor "understood the spirit of them"
without having been exposed to recordings of Dylan performing them at moments when the singer/author was able to be completely present within
and at one with these musical and verbal creations.

Such a moment is captured in the 13 June 1988 performance of Gates Of Eden. Believe it or not, Dylan actually seems to sing it with more authority,
as much or more conviction and clarity of understanding, than he put into the original album version of the song.
The lamppost that stands with folded arms at the start of verse two has never stood with such dignity before.
This is a function both of Dylan's vocal and of the instrumental passage / band performance that leads up to this image.
Indeed, the beauty and power of this Gates Of Eden are as much a product of the band's playing as of Dylan's singing, which is not surprising,
because at moments like this the two are inseparable.

Evidence that the mysterious and far-reaching influence of a performance like this is not the result of deliberate intention
can be found by listening to the two 1988 performances of Gates Of Eden that precede this Park City version and the two that closely follow it.
All are good, and were certainly rewarding experiences for the people at those shows,
but all pale in comparison to what Dylan and his band happen to be doing with this song at this particular moment.
So it is not so much a matter of a good arrangement worked out in rehearsals.
As the I Ching said, it is a matter of a feeling being "voiced with truth and frankness."
I was fascinated, when previously unheard takes of Like A Rolling Stone were released on the 1995 CD-ROM Highway 61 Interactive,
by the fact that, to my ears, the take of Like A Rolling Stone performed a few minutes after the officially released version
is lacking most of the power of that great performance. Yeah, they (including the singer; in fact, singer and musicians were inseparable) got it that once;
but that did not guarantee that they could get there again. How fortunate we are,
I tell myself, that the "right" take did make it onto the record and the radio and into our lives.
Dylan, as much as any artist of his era, has exerted a mysterious and far-reaching influence.
But he has not produced this effect through deliberate intention. Maybe that is why so many of us collect and study his "accidental art"
as well as his official releases.

The Park City 1988 Gates Of Eden is six minutes long � 20 seconds longer than the original album version,
although three of the original nine verses are omitted. It starts like a great rock �n� roll single, with a series of assertive, expressive drum hits,
tastefully and effectively reinforced by loud bass guitar/lead guitar grunts. ''Something's coming!!" is the unmistakable message,
and right away the singer justifies this build-up by singing the opening verse with a vigor and spirit appropriate to Henry V working up his troops
before the Battle of Agincourt. Right away his diction and phrasing are irresistible,
with the result that the cowboy angel riding four-legged forest clouds becomes quite visible.
Dylan's remarkable presence in the vocal throughout the song dramatically underlines its powerful visual imagery and the skilful / playful language
and theatricality of its lyrics. This is most striking in the "savage soldier" verse, when we see (and identify with) the savage soul (dier)
as he sticks his head in sand like an ostrich � and because we also see the shoeless hunter,
we realize he has probably "gone deaf" because of the soldier's complaining.
The cinematic movement in this verse's lines becomes evident and very pleasing. We see that the shoeless hunter
�still remains" beside the soldier despite the complaining, and the next words, "upon the beach"
suddenly give us a new, more specific picture of where this action is occurring.
This is immediately rumped when the phrase "upon the beach" is modified by the dependent clause "where hound dogs bay at ships with tattooed sails,
heading for the Gates of Eden." It is as though I never really saw this movie until I heard this performance.
Dylan's phrasing in �heading for" sounds very meaningful,
and the band's rhythmic break right after Gates Of Eden underlines this quite convincingly,
and suddenly I am amazed at how cleverly the presence of the cowboy angel astride clouds in the first verse directed our listening minds
to an image of Eden as Heaven, mythical place in the sky where angels are found.
And then how wonderful when the camera keeps pulling back during the "savage" verse, and we see that the soldier and hunter are walking on a beach,
and then we see these ominous, thrilling ships with tattooed sails moving across the set in the distance,
and with the next line we are not surprised to hear that they are "heading for the Gates of Eden."
If this causes us to picture those Gates as just ahead of the ships, stage right somewhere, we get a semiconscious adrenaline rush
as we experience Dylan, who often violates and challenges the listeners' sense of time, challenging our sense of space,
as suddenly Heaven or Eden is felt as being on the same plane as this human world with its beach and soldier-hunter conversation.
Wow � as in Greek and Roman myths, Gods and mortals interact, coexist on the same plane,
while the narrator keeps reminding us that the important distinction is not high and low but horizontal:
inside or outside the Gates of Eden. Psychedelic indeed.

And what is really remarkable is that Dylan the singer is so totally at one with this song this night, as though he were reliving its moment of creation,
as though it were a vision that came to him irrepressibly as he wrote it, and this night onstage,
thanks particularly to the stimulus of Christopher Parker's inspired drumming, he is evidently seeing and smelling and hearing that vision,
reliving it, and sharing it with us. The Park City 1988 Gates Of Eden is the sound of "I've got to go out and play these songs �
that's just what I must do!" And it is the precise opposite of "I can't remember what it means � is it just a bunch of surrealistic nonsense?"
If any Dylan song were to be impenetrable to its author decades later, Gates Of Eden seems a likely candidate; but here it is, seemingly more lucid than ever before.
How did he get there? It has to do with his relationship with his band � and it is not something that happens in rehearsals.
It is something that only happens for this kind of artist onstage, in front of an audience. And that, I insist, is the reason for his never-ending touring.
He lives his life onstage because he lives his life primarily for moments like this, and onstage, "nowhere" or just anywhere in the world,
unplanned and unexpected, with a band, is where they happen. "Sometimes I think there are no words but these to tell what's true!"
See why a committed artist would have to keep touring, keep working with a band? Listen to the texture of Dylan's voice as he sings
"It doesn't matter inside the Gates of Eden" in Park City � you have the opportunity to encounter a truth (share a lover's dream) not available anywhere else.

At Park City, Dylan sings the first two verses of the original Gates Of Eden followed by the "motorcycle black madonna" verse,
which in turn is followed by the "savage soldier" verse. Then the song is completed with the "kingdoms of experience" verse
("what's real and what is not") and the usual final verse ("At dawn my lover comes to me").
There is a slight lyric change in the first verse (the cowboy angel rides "with his candle burning in the sun" instead of "lit into the sun"),
and an even subtler change at the end of the second verse: "No sound at all ever comes from the Gates of Eden" instead of "No sound ever comes from."

These line changes are the same in all of the first five 1988 performances of Gates Of Eden, so they may have been preplanned.
In Berkeley, 10 June 1988, Dylan sang the same six verses of the song, but not in the same sequence. "Savage soldier" is third,
"kingdoms of experience" fourth, and "motorcycle black madonna" fifth. In Concord, he only sang five verses, dropping "savage soldier"
(probably accidentally; we hear the band vamping for a while before he starts singing the last verse,
suggesting he knows he forgot something and he is thinking about what to do).
The next Gates Of Eden after Park City, in East Troy, Wisconsin, 18 June 1988, features seven verses; "motorcyle" is dropped
and "With a time-rusted compass blade" and "The foreign sun, it squints upon" are added, perhaps spontaneously.
A week later, in Holmdel, New Jersey, "motorcycle" is back, "time-rusted compass" is retained, but "foreign sun" and "savage soldier" are dropped.

Dylan made an important and revealing statement about his aesthetic as a performing artist sometime in 1988 when he wrote a 500-word essay
about Jimi Hendrix for use in a traveling exhibition celebrating Hendrix's work.
In the course of this piece, he said, "my songs were not written with the idea in mind that anyone else would sing them,
they were written for me to play live & that is the sort of end of it." After discussing how easy it is to "get into"
and sing a Chuck Berry song or a Beatles song, he said:

�my songs are different & i don't expect others to make attempts to sing them because you have to get somewhat inside
& behind them & it's hard enough for me to do it sometimes & then obviously you have to be in the right frame of mind,
but even then there would be a vague value to it because nobody breathes like me so they couldn't be expected to portray
the meaning of a certain phrase in the correct way without bumping into other phrases & altering the mood, changing the understanding
& just giving up so that they then become only verses strung together for no apparent reason, patter for a performer to kill time,
take up space, giving a heartless rendition of what was it to begin with, jimi knew my songs were not like that,
he sang them exactly the way they were intended to be sung & he played them the same way. he played them the way i would have done them if i was him.
never thought too much about it at the time but now that years have gone by, i see that the message must have been his message thru & thru,
not that i could ever articulate the message that well myself, but in hearing jimi cover it, i realize he must have felt it pretty deeply inside & out &
that somewhere back there his soul & my soul were on the same desert.�

Dylan "obviously" was in the right frame of mind while singing Gates Of Eden in Utah 13 June 1988, and because of the way he breathes
during this performance I find myself with a new and satisfying (to me) idea of the meaning of a certain phrase which had puzzled me until now.
The phrase as printed in Dylan's book Lyrics is "it shadows metal badge" but in this wonderfully articulated version I realize he is actually saying
(in reference to the lamppost), its shadow's metal badge. Going back to the 1965 album version, I find the word has always been "its" in spite of what Lyrics says.
This opens the door to me hearing the possibility and likelihood of an apostrophe before the final "s" in "shadows"
and this and the particular breath of this performance allow me to recognize that the subject of the next phrase,
"all in all can only fall with a crashing but meaningless blow" must be the metal badge of the lamppost's shadow.
I also find myself easily hearing "holes" (in "to curbs 'neath holes where babies wail") as a clever substitution for "homes" �
the sort of place from which one might occasionally hear babies wailing.
Now, with the phrases not bumping into each other inappopriately, it's easy for me to hear the poet / performer
as describing an old-fashioned urban lamppost with protrusions ("iron claws") attaching it to street curbs,
casting shadows that may look ominous ("metal badge") to young persons in nearby homes,
finally symbolizing a modern city-animus like Ginsberg's Moloch that "all in all [sooner or later] can only fall with a crashing but meaningless blow."
See how helpful the right breathing (singer getting inside & behind the songs) can be?

Dylan spoke of how Hendrix played his songs as well as how he sang them, and said, "he played them the way I would have done them,"
acknowledging that the message of the songs depends on how the music is played, as well as on the singing.
The Park City Gates Of Eden is an example of Dylan's 1988 band at its best � very tuned in to him (and thus to his "message") and very expressive collectively.

But why are they less tuned in (and the resultant performances of the song less thrilling) three days earlier and five days later?
This is where the I Chinas commentary is helpful. When it speaks of "the involuntary influence of a man's inner being upon persons of kindred spirit"
and "the echo awakened in men through spiritual attraction," it casts light directly upon the mystery of Dylan or John Coltrane
and their accompanists and the works of art they have created together, always in moments of live performance. "A crane calling in the shade.
Its young answers it." Everything depends on the musicians' and vocalist/bandleader's responses to each other.
The part the drummer plays before and betweeen verses is similar in each of these Gates Of Eden performances,
but its execution this day is exceptional, and the singer's response to Parker's "clear expression of sentiment"
and the drummer's and guitarists' responses to the "feeling voiced with truth and frankness" in the resultant vocal all work together
to create a great effect, a "true and vigorous expression in word and deed" of these persons' and this song's message.
A work of art. The triumph of this 1988 tour (originally called "Interstate '88") and of the Never Ending Tour
that it evolved into is the creation of a creative environment (a "joyous mood") in which moments like this can and do happen.
Not every night, of course. But often enough to greatly enrich and bring fulfillment to these performing artists and their [present and future] listeners.

In a discussion of Blood On The Tracks, I wrote, "I need to say again that Dylan performs a song not only with his voice
but also through the musicians around him; the brilliant success of these recordings is proof again that the power of his presence as a performer
can transform whoever is playing with him into a perfect extension of his instincts and his unconscious will.
Dylan short-circuits any intellectual approach to music ['deliberate intention of an effect'] and conducts his bands from his gut,
his solar plexus, invisibly, intuitively, trusting the music to find its way into existence if they (he and the band) will just lean into it enough,
press through their own limits and surrender to the sound that is trying to happen."
The I Ching explains that this occasional transformation of one's comrades into a perfect extension of one's aesthetic instincts
and non-verbalized will is an influence that has its root in one's inner being, and describes it
as "the reflection of something that emanates from one's own heart." "No words but these to tell what's true. Bam! bam! bam!"

Parker and the band's glorious intro to Gates Of Eden on 13 June 1988 is played in some exotic time signature like 12/8,
and when Dylan comes in with the start of the first verse ("War and peace, the truth just twists") the band shifts into 3/4 (waltz) time.
It is a fabulous transition, and Dylan's extraordinary vocal performance seems an expression of his delight at the intuitive and bizarre rightness
of the sound the four of them are creating. At the end of the verse, the word "Eden" is the cue for a brief return of the exotic time signature
and an expressive drum-led instrumental break, which again transitions gracefully and thrillingly into the second verse and back to waltz time.
This charming dance is repeated, with variations, every time Dylan says "Eden" and every time he returns to start another verse / episode.
The variations are the increasing expressiveness of GE Smith's lead guitar playing as the breaks between verses get longer,
climaxing in a particularly wonderful instrumental break between verses five and six (after Dylan sings,
"what's real and what is not doesn�t matter inside the Gates of Eden"). One can't help feeling that Smith is reading Dylan's mind at this moment,
painting the pictures Dylan sees by skillfully and mysteriously producing the sounds Dylan hears in the back of his mind; it is a drum / guitar duet
(punctuated and held together by very sparse and tasteful bass notes
from Kenny Aaronson), similar to and full of the excitement of the drum / vocals duet the entire performance seems to be.
The closing instrumental break after the last verse is as satisfying and fulfilling as the opening instrumental passage was provocative and inviting.
Dylan's presence in the song is extraordinary throughout every verse of this unforgettable vocal performance,
but is just as palpable in the instrumental breaks, when we hear him singing wordlessly through GE Smith and Parker and Aaronson
(and his own barely audible rhythm guitar playing).

This is it. This is the message Dylan assembled this band and embarked on this tour to deliver.
And as with the Like A Rolling Stone sessions, I am baffled that they could perform the song so magnificently
and not come close to this level the next times they played and sang it. But that is because I forget it is not a product of deliberate intention.
It is more like a moment of grace, a lot of different factors working together to create the circumstances whereby a feeling (a "message")
can be collectively voiced with truth and frankness and genuine joy.

***

Fiddler's Green Amphitheatre
Denver, Colorado
15 June 1988

19.Subterranean Homesick Blues
20.One More Cup Of Coffee (Valley Below)
21.It's All Over Now, Baby Blue
22.You're A Big Girl Now
23.Ballad Of A Thin Man
24.Mama, You Been On My Mind
25.Eileen Aroon (trad., arr. Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem)
26.Don't Think Twice, It's All Right
27.Just Like A Woman
28.Seeing The Real You At Last
29.Simple Twist Of Fate
30.Like A Rolling Stone

Concert # 6 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 6 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 6 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on:
Mama, You Been On My Mind,
Eileen Aroon,
Don't Think Twice, It's All Right

One More Cup Of Coffee (Valley Below) first performance since 1978.

Mama, You Been On My Mind first performance since 1975.

Live debut of Eileen Aroon.

LB-7234;
Denver 1988 (Scorpio / BD-08021-1/2);
Soundboard

Excellent sound [A-].

***

The Muny
Forest Park
St. Louis, Missouri
17 June 1988

31.Lakes Of Pontchartrain (trad.)
32.Nadine (Chuck Berry)

Concert # 7 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 7 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 7 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on Lakes Of Pontchartrain.

BobTalk:

Thank you! We're gonna play this as a request tonight. Somebody asked us to play it, and we're gonna play it.
(before Nadine).

LB-9118;
dat from master analog cassette

Excellent sound [A-].

***

Alpine Valley Music Theatre
East Troy, Wisconsin
18 June 1988

33.Ballad Of Hollis Brown
34.Blowin' In The Wind

Concert # 8 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 8 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 8 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on:
Ballad Of Hollis Brown,
Blowin' In The Wind.

Only 1988 performance of Ballad Of Hollis Brown.

LB-2723;
Taper: Rob Berger (RB);
Equipment: AKG 451 mics > Sony TCD-D10

Very good to excellent sound [B+]

***

Blossom Music Center
Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio
21 June 1988

35.Across The Borderline (Ry Cooder/John Hiatt/Jim Dickinson)

Concert # 9 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 9 of the Interstate 88 Tour,
part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 9 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

LB-4102;
Equipment: Audience recording (full spectrum) > Unknown transfer > CDR(x) >
EAC (Secure/Offset) > WAV > FLAC (Level 8) > DVD > HD > DIME

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Riverbend Music Center
Cincinnati, Ohio
22 June 1988

36.Clean-Cut Kid
37.Wild Mountain Thyme (trad.)

Concert # 10 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 10 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 10 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on Wild Mountain Thyme.

Clean-Cut Kid is the only 1988 performance.

LB-6085;
Taper: Legendary Taper D (LTD);
Equipment: Sennheiser MKE 2002 > cassette master >
DAT - clone > (digital transfer) m-audio delta audiophile 2496 >
Wavelab > ssrc > cdwave for tracking > tlh

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Garden State Performing Arts Center
Holmdel, New Jersey
24 June 1988

38.Masters Of War
39.Driftin' Too Far From Shore
40.Boots Of Spanish Leather
41.Silvio (Bob Dylan & Robert Hunter)
42.The Times They Are A-Changin'

Concert # 11 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 11 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 11 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on:
Boots Of Spanish Leather,
The Times They Are A-Changin'.

G.E. Smith (back-up vocal) on:
Driftin' Too Far From Shore,
Silvio.

BobTalk:

Thank you! Everythings OK? Everythings OK? (after The Times They Are A-Changin')

LB-7235;
New Jersey 1988 (Scorpio / BD-08022)

Excellent sound [A].

***

Garden State Performing Arts Center
Holmdel, New Jersey
25 June 1988

43.The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll

Concert # 12 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 12 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 12 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on The Lonesome Ceath Of Hattie Carroll.

First performance of Trail Of The Buffalo since The Basement Tapes sessions in 1967.

LB-1892;
Equipment: CD-Rs > EAC (secure mode) > CoolEdit Pro >
CD Wave > FLAC Frontend > .flac;
Mild treble lift all tracks;
Mild bass trim electric tracks;
All tracks normalized.

Excellent sound [A-].

***

Saratoga Performing Arts Center
Saratoga Springs, New York
26 June 1988

44.Watching The River Flow
45.I'll Remember You
46.It Ain't Me, Babe
47.Tomorrow Is A Long Time

Concert # 13 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 13 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 13 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on:
It Ain't Me, Babe,
Tomorrow Is A Long Time.

The only Tomorrow Is A Long Time during 1988.

LB-8375;
Taper: Legendary Taper D (LTD);
Legendary Tapers Series #13

Excellent sound [A-].

***

Finger Lakes Performing Arts Center
Canandaigua, New York
28 June 1988

48.I Want You
49.Give My Love To Rose (Johnny Cash)

Concert # 14 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 14 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 14 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on Give My Love To Rose.

Live debut of Give My Love To Rose.

LB-6284

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Jones Beach Theater
Jones Beach State Park
Wantagh, New York
30 June 1988

50.Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues
51.All Along The Watchtower
52.Maggie's Farm

Concert # 15 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 15 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 15 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

First performance of Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues during Never-Ending Tour.
One of only three performances 1988.

LB-2844;
Live At Jones Beach Theatre 1988 (Shamrock / SR-201005/6)

Excellent sound [A].

***

Jones Beach Theater
Jones Beach State Park
Wantagh, New York
1 July 1988

53.Absolutely Sweet Marie
54.Barbara Allen (trad.)
55.Gotta Serve Somebody

Concert # 16 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 16 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 16 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on Barbara Allen.

BobTalk:

How am I doing, baby? (after Barbara Allen)

LB-2189

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Paul Williams

The difference between "comfort" and "heroism" is split nicely on those few 1988 nights when Dylan and his band work together so well
that they manage to create a sound and mood unique to that particular concert, as if the entire show were a single thought we are privileged and thrilled
to be able to hear, a single moment of seemingly stopped time lasting well over an hour.
By way of example, I call your attention to the 16th show of 1988, 1 July 1988 in the Jones Beach Theater, Wantagh, New York.

What is striking about this 1 July 1988 show is the consistent feeling of connectedness between Dylan and the band, song after song, all night.
This results in and is expressed in the unusual (for 1988 electric sets) freedom and confidence of the vocals.
Too often in 1988, Dylan sings as though he is trying too hard to sound like �Bob Dylan�, giving words and phrases a little extra spin,
and unfortunately not because he is connected to the sentiment of the lines he is singing or the story he is telling.
No, it often sounds like he is just doing what he thinks he is supposed to do, not really trying to get close to us.

The second and third songs of the 30 June 1988 show, also at Wantagh, Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues and You're A Big Girl Now
are to my ears clear examples of the sporadic musical disconnectedness and inauthentic vocals that may be encountered on too many of these 1988 tapes.
It is remarkable that Dylan can sound so wooden on these particular songs. In the first case, the tempo and feel of the playing seem way off,
which of course helps explain the awkwardness of the singing. This was Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues first appearance on the tour
(or at any Dylan concert for more than two years). According to bass player Kenny Aaronson (as quoted in Heylin's biography),
"On the road, every so often before the show GE would come back and go, �Fellows, Bob wants us to do this tune and here's how it goes.�
And GE would show it to me and Chris Parker right before the show."
Dylan has made some great recordings by asking musicians to back him live in the studio on a song they have never heard before.
If his terrific results on those occasions are a function of the power of his presence,
one has to wonder why there are so many performances on this tour when that power seems absent.
In the case of You�re A Big Girl Now, Dylan and band had performed the song at seven shows already this month,
so the stiffness of the singing and playing cannot be explained by unfamiliarity. Maybe overfamiliarity (comfort) is the problem.
Or there may be other factors causing the performer to go in and out of connection with his band and his songs.
The 30 June 1988 show does eventually come to life with the fifth song � a surprisingly bright Masters Of War,
which gets a new musical feel and even some new lyrics ("though I'm no smarter than you"). Things go well after that.

On 1 July 1988, Dylan and Smith and Aaronson and Parker startoff with arguably the best Subterranean Homesick Blues of the tour.
Most nights, this song suffers from its placement in the opening slot. Dylan sings words and sometimes whole lines off-mike as he warms up to being on stage.
The band does not so much play the song as provide a standard rock �n� roll shuffle accompaniment, presumably as instructed by Dylan at an early rehearsal.
They play fast, Dylan sings a lot of words fast, and it is usually a good example of showmanship replacing interaction and respect for the material.
But 1 July 1988 is a happy exception. Every word of the song is audible, and singer and rhythm section sound like a team,
conscious artists creating something together. The resultant performance is nothing particularly memorable,
certainly not comparable to the original 1965 performance, but a credible statement of intent by singer and band which kicks off a flow of songs
and music that is very satisfying, and as close as we get all year to a concert-length expression of who Dylan feels himself to be
and what his songs and his body of work mean to him at this moment in his life.

Simple Twist Of Fate shines like a jewel in its setting between Subterranean Homesick Blues and Driftin' Too Far From Shore.
The fourth song, Absolutely Sweet Marie, is another high point. The band truly nails this one from the opening notes,
and the singer responds with a vocal performance that actually is comparable to the Blonde On Blonde original.
This is an instance of Dylan's 1988-style emphatic phrasing sounding connected and authentic and even rich in nuance and presence.
And it is clearly the result of his being inspired by what the rhythm section is doing, and thus being able to lean into the song
so that it comes to life rather ecstatically.

The last two songs of the 1 July 1988 first electric set are a particularly well-realized Ballad Of A Thin Man and an equally alive It's All Over Now, Baby Blue.
Listen to that man sing "great lawyers and scholars" and "on your sheets"!! It could only be one singer who's ever lived.
And only at this specific moment in his trajectory. We connoisseurs live for such instants.

The acoustic set begins with an unusual choice: Mama, You Been On My Mind, written in 1964 and not released on a Dylan album
until The Bootleg Series in 1991 (and performed five times in 1988). Dylan sings it well at the Jones Beach Theater
and follows it with another 1964 love song, It Ain't Me, Babe � also a very fine performance. The quality of this 1 July 1988 acoustic set,
which continues with a powerful, heartfelt The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll and concludes with the fourth 1988 Barbara Allen,
makes me wonder if subtle changes from night to night in the chemistry of the relationship between Dylan
and electric set bandleader and acoustic set co-guitarist GE Smith could be a factor in the noticeable fluctuations in the extent
to which Dylan sounds present in his singing, and connected to the music being made, from show to show and even from song to song in 1988.
This kind of fluctuation is normal for him on most of his tours. However, until 1988 his live acoustic performances were explorations of a dynamic in which his
(usually rhythmic) guitar playing and his playful, emotive voice spoke to and stimulated, influenced, each other.
The introduction of a second guitar player (with responsibilities very different from the tasteful highlighting of Bruce Langhorne's
and Charlie McCoy's second guitars on the 1965 recordings of Mr Tambourine Man and Desolation Row) must certainly have changed the dynamic
of these no-longer solo acoustic performances.

In listening to recordings of Dylan shows over the years, there have been times when it has seemed to me that an unusually powerful
and fresh vocal performance of, say, A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall has resulted from Dylan being inspired by the particular rhythmic riff he
(seemingly unexpectedly) has just fallen into in his guitar playing. This sort of thing may occasionally happen in the GE Smith-assisted performances,
though I have not found many 1988 examples and it is difficult for me, with my untrained ears,
to guess who is playing what or to what extent what I am hearing is just GE Smith "covering" Dylan's playing by strumming or playing patterns
in the appropriate chords.

On this 1 July 1988 tape, it does seem to me that the interplay between voice and guitar(s) is an important element in the excellence of Mama, You Been On My Mind
and It Ain't Me, Babe, although the power of the performances is primarily located in the vocals.
But then Dylan delivers his finest vocal performance of the night on The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll
and the contribution of the guitar or guitars seems quite minimal � that is, to provide accompaniment without getting in the way of the singer's passion.
It sounds as though the fiery vocal just builds on itself, that this particular evening Dylan reconnects with
and is genuinely inspired by the song's rhythmic language ("emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level") and the power of the story these words tell � i
s in fact suddenly feeling the presence of this woman and drawing the strength of his singing directly from her.
GE Smith plays a nice solo or two between verses, but the important thing � which perhaps GE Smith does deserve some credit for �
is that Dylan feels very at home with his song tonight.

Barbara Allen is not exceptional this evening, but it contributes to the impact of the whole show by giving us another side of Dylan,
and even a rather different Dylan-voice, just when we might have been lulled into thinking we know who this artist is
and what he wants to accomplish tonight. What he wants to accomplish is to put on a good show, and play music he loves.
So he starts the next set with Silvio, his latest single (Driftin' Too Far From Shore, played earlier in the show,
another song that the crowd does not know and that he enjoys playing and identifies keenly with the "sentiment" of, is the B-side of that single).

The second electric set continues with In The Garden, another song-choice intended to assert this performer's right
to be true to himself regardless of who his fans think he should and should not be. You can hear in his voice, his voices,
that he is having a great time going from protest song to traditional ballad to uptempo Grateful-Dead-style rocker to the story of Jesus Christ
(sung with love and gusto) to a signature song and greatest hit he can still sink his teeth into, Like A Rolling Stone.
The drumbeat that kicks off Like A Rolling Stone a few seconds after the dramatic closing notes of In The Garden can be felt as a moment of joyful irony
when you let Dylan get you on his wavelength, his 1 July 1988 mindset. Every song, every transition, has a message,
and the artist on a good night like this one delights in rising to the challenge of thrilling an audience without feeling like a prisoner of their expectations.
So his encores are a greatest hit from the acoustic protest era, Blowin' In The Wind, followed by a Christian era rocker/hit,
Gotta Serve Somebody, wrapped up as usual in 1988 with his perennial declaration of independence, Maggie's Farm. "I try my best to be just like I am." He does.
And in this work of accidental art, he succeeds gloriously.

I recently told my friend Gary Schulstad of my difficulty coming to terms with my mixed feelings about what I am hearing now listening to the 1988 shows,
and he wrote back: "From what I remember of the '88 Dylan performances I attended, I empathize with what you are going through.
There seemed to be an energy in the music that wasn't really directed to the audience." Well said. That word "energy,"
quite applicable to what I am calling Dylan's emphatic (or overemphatic) 1988 singing style, helps me make a connection that eluded me until now.
In 1985, Dylan said of his 1974 tour of America, "I think I was just playing a role on that tour. It was all sort of mindless � an emotionless trip.
The greatest praise we got on that tour was �incredible energy, man� � it would make me want to puke."

Dylan's exaggerated, "energetic" approach to singing on the 1974 tour does have something in common with some of his 1988 singing;
and I would guess that in both cases it arose from a part of himself that had doubts about his ability to give the people what they must want
and that therefore decided he had to push the words of the songs out forcefully in order to get them across successfully.
In 1974, he was back on tour and on stage after a seven-year hiatus; in 1988, he was trying to make a personal comeback after a year
when he' had felt he had "reached the end of the line" and "couldn't do his old songs" onstage. Such circumstances naturally make us push harder,
which can have good results, but can also be a kind of obstacle in itself. Interestingly, one week ago as I write this,
Dylan brought up the topic of his dissatisfaction with the 1974 tour again, in an interview (about his new album, Love And Theft,
with Robert Hilburn of the Los Angeles Times. Dylan: "I always felt that if I'm going to do anything in life, I want to go as deep as I can."
Hilburn: "Have you always lived'up to that goal? Have you ever felt you were just a superficial artist?"
Dylan: "Sure, I think the tour I did with The Band in 1974 was superficial. I had forgotten how to sing and play.
I had been devoting my time to raising a family, and it took me a long time to recapture my purpose as a performer.
You'd find it at times, then it would disappear again for a while."

If we apply this 2001 recollection of 1974's seven-week tour (and cogent self-observation) to 1987-1988, it seems reasonable
(based on what I hear in the show-recordings) to suppose that the voice in Dylan's head in October 1987 telling himself
"I'm determined to stand!" was a decision to recapture his purpose as a performer, and that the strangely uneven 1988 results are another painful portrait
of an artist finding it at times, then watching it disappear again for a while.
I said in the last chapter that listening to Dylan sing the word "I" in Man Of Constant Sorrow at the start of the 1988 tour,
we can hear an artist getting connected to something and discovering and creating a platform on which to do his work as a performer.
I have also referred to the 1988 tour, in this chapter, as an experiment that was successful as measured by the longevity of the format
and the enthusiasm with which Dylan has toured the world as a performing artist and bandleader ever since �
and unsuccessful artistically in the short term as measured by what can be heard on the show-recordings.
What happened, what got in the way of Dylan's purpose as a performer to go as deep as he can into whatever he does, was, I hypothesize,
the result of fear of failure, fear of not being loved, leading to trying too hard to be safe up there on that stage,
leading to singer/performer being lulled to sleep by the safeness and lack-of-aliveness of his working environment.
Particularly in the electric sets, but also in the acoustic sets, Dylan tried to get songs across in 1988 by shouting their words.
This was damaging to his voice, as well as being an obstacle to being melodically and emotionally present within the songs themselves.
So by the end of the tour, as Clinton Heylin has written of the four October 1988 shows at Radio City Music Hall,
"his voice was in very poor shape, and he shouted his way through songs, stripping them of nuance and subtlety."

Dylan seldom spoke between songs in 1988, but at that opening show in Concord, there was a surprising moment just before the encore when he said,
"I want to thank you people for being so nicel" This was not formulaic (indeed was not repeated night after night or ever again),
but sounded like a warm, spontaneous expression of sincere appreciation, as though the speaker really had not expected such kind treatment
(the applause after the last song? the attentiveness of the audience throughout the show?).
The fact that Dylan uncharacteristically refused to play an encore at the end of the next concert feels closely related,
as though the sensitivity that made him so appreciative on 7 June 1988 made him feel wounded when the audience appeared inattentive on 9 June 1988.
At this 9 June 1988 show he was also unhappy about harsh reviews in the San Francisco newspapers that asserted that the audience he had called "nice"
at Concord were actually "exasperated" that he did not play more "familiar classics" and that so many of the songs he did perform were "unrecognizable."
These newspaper comments led to Dylan's next between-song soliloquy, at the 11 June 1988 show
(still in the San Francisco area) after singing I'll Remember You: "I don't think that's an obscure song, do you? Was that an obscure song? I don't think so."

Two months later, near the end of a concert at the Santa Barbara County Bowl on 7 August 1988, Dylan spoke to the crowd again:
"Sometimes I feel that I should be down there and you should be up here."

Listening to a tape of the 2 August 1988 show at the Greek Theater in Hollywood, a particularly heartfelt performance of I'll Remember You caught my attention.
Obscure or not, and in spite of several lyric errors in the first verse, the song takes on new life and rare beauty this night.
Captivated by the sweetness and freshness of both the music and the vocal, I found myself wondering for the first time why a lover would say,
in a song praising a beloved partner, "There's some people that you don't forget, even though you've only seen them one time or two."
Could the "you" who to me was "the best," the one I'll remember "at the end of the trail," actually be a one-night stand?
The question and the special flavor of this performance turned the song on its head for me, and for the first time it struck me
that he could be addressing a very immediate "you," the audience in front of him now. I tend to think of Seeing The Real You At Last,
another song from Empire Burlesque, as being addressed to Dylan's live audience, because most of the many times I saw him perform it in 1986
he would point an arm and finger at the crowd while singing the chorus.
But I'll Remember You had always hit my ears as a song to a very special romantic partner, until this 2 August 1988 version
recently transformed for me the possible "message" of "Didn't I, didn't I try to love you? Didn't I, didn't I try to care?"
and "Though I'd never say that I done it the way that you would have liked me to, in the end, my dear sweet friend, I'll remember you."
I want to thank you for being so nice, indeed.

Dylan's often troubled love affair with his live audience ("A million faces at my feet, but all I see are dark eyes")
surely is central to the weaknesses and too infrequent strengths of his 1988 tour. A performing artist's urge to please can take away his creative freedom
in subtle ways. The essence of creativity is awakeness, aliveness, presence in the moment.
But the "safe" structures stage performers invent so they can more reliably do good work in the face of everchanging external and internal conditions
can often lull them to sleep, rob them of their aliveness, of the source of their power to stop time,
their power to awaken something in the other players and in themselves and in their audiences through spiritual attraction.

Dylan's dissatisfaction with the results of his energetic efforts to reach out to audiences in 1974 is documented in his 1985 and 2001 comments on that tour.
The only indication we have that he was not too sure at the end of 1988 that his new band and approach to touring had allowed him or would allow him
to recapture his purpose as a performer is his strange impulse in February 1989 to call The Grateful Dead asking to become a member of their band.
What was it he wanted? We cannot be certain, because the Dead said no, and after taking a few months off to record Oh Mercy,
Dylan reassembled his 1988 band and resumed his Never Ending Tour in May 1989.

In the winter 1988-1989 issue of The Telegraph, the editor, John Bauldie, quotes a tour insider he spoke to at a midsummer show as saying:
"Bob wants to go on playing shows all the time. He wants an audience to follow him around from place to place, like the Dead.
That's what he wants the fan club [the "Entertainment Connection" advertised on the inner sleeve of Down In The Groove] for �
to encourage that kind of following." On another page of John Bauldie's tour diary in that issue,
another manifestation of Dylan's new ideas about the importance of audience involvement is described:
"A funny thing. At each show the security men work really hard for about 40 minutes to keep people out of the aisles and away from the stage,
and then suddenly on a prearranged signal they get up, pack up their chairs and walk away, leaving approach to the stage free.
Lately it's been happening on the second verse of Silvio [first song of the second electric set], and the audience are �allowed� to rush the stage.
In fact, at the 25 June 1988 show nobody moved, and the security men had to wave people down, to encourage them to cluster at Bob's feet at the front of the stage."
This practice continued for the next few years, reportedly because Dylan likes to be able to see people standing,
and responding to the music, while he is performing.

Bauldie's editorial in the next issue (spring 1989) apologizes to readers for his "negative" review in a United Kingdom music magazine
of the recently released Dylan And The Dead: "It took a bit of heart-searching for me to go slagging Bobby off in public,
but there are some things that I dislike so much that I can't help but say it right out loud. I think that it's a rotten record,
and that it's such a shame that it stands as official testament of live performance since 1984. Especially after the 1988 shows, which were so terrific.
My favorite at the moment is the Manchester concert, with its sparkling Visions Of Johanna.
Give me that track alone and you can stuff the Dylan And The Dead record."

We all (everybody I talked with and saw commentary by) thought the 1988 shows were terrific at the time.
Note that Bauldie is referring to both the shows he saw (eight in late-June and early-July 1988) and the tapes he has been listening to.
I am sympathetic with his enthusiasm for the 3 September 1988 performance of Visions Of Johanna in Manchester, New Hampshire,
but I find the rest of that recorded show a typically (for 1988) bleak listening experience, dull at best and embarrassing at worst
(I will cite the badly slurred vocal and shapeless, characterless band performance on Like A Rolling Stone as an example).
This brings me to the awkward issue of the essentially subjective nature of all art criticism and commentary, including, of course,
the study you are presently reading. Dylan raises this issue when he asks, "I don't think that's an obscure song, do you?"
and when he speaks disparagingly of people praising his "emotionless" 1974 tour performances as "incredible energy, man."
I also believe he expresses his sensitivity to and contempt for criticism (of himself and especially of his work) when he says, "The judge, he holds a grudge,
he's gonna call on you / but he's badly built and he walks on stilts, watch out he don't fall on you" in his 1966 song
Most Likely You Go Your Way (And I'll Go Mine).

So, like John Bauldie, I am uncomfortable with the role of judge, especially when honesty and sincerity require me to be negative
about certain works of the artist whom I came here to praise. I could be wrong, of course. Or I could change my view at some future time of relistening,
as I have changed my view years later about certain excellent Dylan albums and songs that I had failed to appreciate on first encounter.
I suppose I could also change my mind about my enthusiasms, though I do not like to confront that possibility (and happily it has not happened to me much, so far).
The truth is, all history of art which we are taught in schools or which we absorb otherwise is based on individual subjective judgments
that have become consensus judgments and have thereby created the canons of "great" literature and visual art and music. Big responsibility.
"Am I sure?" I do ask myself this, and spend a lot of time listening to the performances like Gates Of Eden on 13 June 1988
that I find myself praising enthusiastically herein, to be as sure as possible of my opinion. This is pleasant work.
Repeated listening to performances I have decided to dismiss as mediocre is not so rewarding.
And I find certainty about mediocrity more elusive than certainty about greatness.

Consensus helps, of course. Early in the process of writing this volume, I struggled with my displeasure at almost everything I heard on the tapes
of the Dylan / Grateful Dead summer 1987 performances � but I was comforted by the almost universal agreement among Dylan commentators
about the poor quality of these shows. Such consensus is not yet available to me regarding my judgment that most of the 1988 shows
described by John Bauldie in 1989 as "terrific" are in fact mediocre. Mediocrity, in any case, is the absence of excellence,
so the crux of the matter is � can we trust our own abilities to detect excellence in such subjective realms as art appreciation
and listening to recordings of live musical performances?

Probably not. But we can trust that if we go on record with our views, they will be disputed, leaving observers to wonder, "Whom should we believe?"
The history of human art and culture, I repeat, is based on such processes. Let me share with you a slightly self-serving example
of how this functions in the realm of Dylan scholarship. The reader will recall that I did find one performance
to be very enthusiastic about from the Dylan / Grateful Dead concerts.
Long after I wrote my resultant praises of Queen Jane Approximately as performed in Eugene on 19 July 1987
and included on the otherwise unfortunate Dylan And The Dead album, I was delighted to read an essay
(in a Dylan symposium in Mojo magazine, June 2001) by Richard Williams, author of Bob Dylan, A Man Called Alias and longtime music critic on London's broadsheets,
dedicated to expressing his enthusiasm for this particular performance ("In a humdrum year, one transcendent moment," reads the tag line above the article).
Williams describes the Eugene Queen Jane Approximately as "a Dylan moment to put alongside all the precious ones from an earlier time,"
and ends his essay with this paragraph:

�When it came out, I wrote something in The Times about the track's "wrecked majesty" and, ten years later,
got slapped on the wrist by Michael Gray in the third edition of Song & Dance Man. "This was wishful thinking," he wrote.
"Wrecked, yes; majesty, no." Which only goes to show how easily preconceptions can hinder genuine perception,
and how people who spend too much time listening to the words so often miss the music.�

Reading this, I was of course pleased to see a fellow listener / scholar going out on a limb to defend and praise a beloved and "obscure" performance
that I also admired and had recently found myself praising publicly. Agreement is heartening, even though, like Dylan,
I am committed to not being disheartened by disagreement.

Preconceptions do indeed hinder genuine perception, as Richard Williams notes, and I find it ironic to realize that �
although I tend to be critical of fans who are unable to appreciate live Dylan performances because their expectations are so shaped
by their familiarity with and attachment to the way he sounded as a performer/ recording artist back in the past �
the greatest hindrance to my appreciation of these 1988 show-recordings is that I am looking in them for, and failing to find,
the sort of excellence and quality of presence and inventive interaction between singer and band that I have become accustomed to
in listening to recordings of Dylan's Never Ending Tour shows from the 1990s � the future, which he was still struggling to invent,
seemingly unsuccessfully, during these 1988 performances.

***

Great Woods Performing Arts Center
Mansfield, Massachusetts
2 July 1988

56.Pretty Peggy-O (trad. arr. Bob Dylan)
57.Love Minus Zero/No Limit

Concert # 17 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 17 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 17 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on Love Minus Zero / No Limit.

Live debut of Pretty Peggy-O.

First Never Ending Tour performances of Love Minus Zero / No Limit.

LB-7283;
Soundboard

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Old Orchard Beach Ballpark
Old Orchard Beach
Portland, Maine
3 July 1988

58.Tangled Up In Blue
59.The Ballad Of Frankie Lee And Judas Priest
60.Trail Of The Buffalo (trad. arr. Woody Guthrie)
61.A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall

Concert # 18 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 18 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 18 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on:
Trail Of The Buffalo,
A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall.

LB-5582;
By The Waterfront Docks (Scorpio / BD-07008);
Stereo Soundboard Recording

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Ottawa Civic Centre Arena
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada
9 July 1988

62.It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)

Concert # 21 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 21 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 21 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding).

First Never-Ending Tour performance of It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding), one of only three 1988 renditions.

LB-3188;
xref-00014

Good sound [B].

***

Indiana State Fairground Grandstand
Indianapolis, Indiana
15 July 1988

63.John Brown

Concert # 25 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 25 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 25 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

LB-3151

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Troy G. Chastain Memorial Park Amphitheatre
Atlanta, Georgia
24 July 1988

64.Highway 61 Revisited

Concert # 30 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 30 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 30 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

G. E. Smith (electric slide guitar) on Highway 61 Revisited.

LB-10951;
Taper: Legendary Taper C (LTC);
Equipment: ?? > cassette master > audio-CD > audio-CD >
eac > wavelab, left channel raised > tlh

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Mud Island Amphitheatre
Memphis, Tennessee
26 July 1988

65.Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again
66.Forever Young

Concert # 32 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 32 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 32 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

G. E. Smith (electric slide guitar) on Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again.

Joe Walsh (guitar) on Forever Young.

LB-7841;
Mudplex Part 1 (Mudrock / 1-2-3)

Good sound [B].

***

Mesa Amphitheater
Mesa, Arizona
30 July 1988

67.Mr Tambourine Man

Concert # 34 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 34 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 34 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on Mr Tambourine Man.

LB-1833

Excellent sound [A-].

***

Pacific Amphitheater
Costa Mesa, California
31 July 1988

68.Song To Woody
69.Girl Of The North Country
70.To Ramona

Concert # 35 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 35 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 35 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on:
Song To Woody,
Girl Of The North Copuntry,
To Ramona.

LB-3166

Good sound [B].

***

Greek Theatre
Hollywood
Los Angeles, California
2 August 1988

71.Every Grain Of Sand
72.She Belongs To Me

Concert # 36 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 36 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 36 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on She Belongs To Me.

First of three 1988 performances of She Belongs To Me.

LB-3153

Good sound [B].

***

Greek Theatre
Hollywood
Los Angeles, California
3 August 1988

73.I'm In The Mood For Love (Dorothy Fields/Jimmy McHugh)

Concert # 37 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 37 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 37 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on I'm In The Mood For Love.

LB-3154

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Greek Theatre
Hollywood
Los Angeles, California
4 August 1988

74.Hallelujah (Leonard Cohen)
75.I'm Glad I Got To See You Once Again (Hank Snow)
76.Knockin' On Heaven's Door

Concert # 38 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 38 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 38 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on I'm Glad I Got To See You Once Again.

Mike Peters (shared vocals), Dave Sharp (guitar) and Eddie McDonald & Nigel Twist (backing vocals) on Knockin' On Heaven's Door.

Second and last performance of Hallelujah.

Only known performance of I'm Glad I Got To See You Once Again.

First Never-Ending Tour version of Knockin' On Heaven's Door.

LB-1269

Very good to excellent sound [B+].

***

Sammis Pavilion
Batiquitos Lagoon
Carlsbad, California
6 August 1988

77.We Three (My Echo, My Shadow And Me) (Robertson/Cogane/Myalls)

Concert # 39 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 39 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 39 with the first Never-Ending Tour

Band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on We Three (My Echo, My Shadow And Me).

Only Never-Ending Tour performance of We Three (My Echo, My Shadow And Me).

LB-4730

Good sound [B].

***

Santa Barbara County Bowl
Santa Barbara, California
7 August 1988

78.Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat
79.One Too Many Mornings
80.Big River (Johnny Cash)

Concert # 40 of The Never-Ending Tour.
Concert # 40 of the Interstate 88 Tour, part 1: Summer Tour of North America.
Concert # 40 with the first G. E. Smith

band: Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar),G. E. Smith (guitar),
Kenny Aaronson (bass), Christopher Parker (drums).

Bob Dylan (vocal & guitar), G.E. Smith (guitar) on One Too Many Mornings.

First Never-Ending Tour performance of One Too Many Mornings.

LB-8028

Fair sound [B-].

***

Rock on, Bob!

XXX