QUEEN JANE APPROXIMATELY: Bob Dylan, The Spectrum, November 18th,
EVA SAYS: When you defend and idolize an iconic figure so fervently it becomes personal, it’s almost easier to believe they’re make-believe, or even better, dead.This way, they can’t disappoint you when they fail to meet your out-of-proportion expectations. Which is what made my first ever Bob Dylan experience pretty tough to take. I wanted to hold on to my idealized vision of Bobby for ever and ever and ever. But let me tell you, it wasn’t easy. Hater friends of mine bitterly spat on about his disgraceful Victoria Secret commercials, his never-ending, money-making hack tours and his dwindling, indiscernible voice. “But it’s Bob fuckin’ Dylan,” I defended. “He’s more important than God, and the man can do whatever the hell he wants.”But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling apprehensive when I walked into The Spectrum — possibly the worst venue in all of Philadelphia — and sat pissing my pants watching Jack White play coked-up riffs on his metallic guitar while the rest of the crowd, median age 50, sat around looking tired and bored. But when Dylan finally appeared and I heard his familiar (and surprisingly still robust) voice sing “Spirit On The Water,” it all came back to me. I was in the presence of a legend and I, an inexperienced amateur, lacked any right to impose my judgment on someone like Bob Dylan. So I sat back and relaxed, realizing that I didn’t have to scrutinize the act to make sure it was legit. And yes, I had my complaints: He didn’t even once play the guitar (still a fact hard for me to swallow, but apparently something he hasn’t done on his past two tours in Philly, some say a bad back keeps him from strappin’ on the six-string), he didn’t play any of his older stuff, and his songs were too drawn out. But I realized, even with such discontent, that I am still in love with Bob Dylan. And sure, maybe I’m more in love with the idea of Bob Dylan as a musical laureate than with the man himself, but in the end, I think I’m OK with that. I’m just lucky I got to see him while he’s still around, and it’ll just make Blonde on Blonde that much better from now on.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Eva is 22 years old and from Los Angeles. Her favorite band is the Velvet Underground. That’s why we hired her. Eva goes to Temple. Some would call her an ?intern,? but we call her Assistant Editor because we believe the media should empower young people, not belittle and exploit them. But that’s just us.