By Marc Ferris
BOB DYLAN/PHIL LESH AND FRIENDS. Jones Beach Theatre. The spirit of the '60s lives. Seen Wednesday.
THE 1960S ARE long gone, but Bob Dylan soldiers on. Dylan and co-headliners Phil Lesh and Friends, along with the 10,000 souls who braved a lashing rain Wednesday night, did their best to revive that groovy decade. Dylan provided the musical high point, proving that he's still evolving, while Lesh spun his wheels in the mud of the past.
Still crabby after all these years, his voice as craggy as ever, Dylan is no throwback. He hit the ground running with a rocking acoustic version of "Duncan and Brady" that jolted the crowd, some of whom danced as if they were warming up for a mosh pit.
Whether the band strummed acoustic instruments or strapped on electric guitars, the sound remained stripped down. Longtime sideman Larry Campbell plucked the mandolin for "Long Black Veil" and played pedal steel on "She Belongs to Me." Otherwise, he traded guitar licks with Bob and Charlie Sexton (the highlight being a hot version of "Country Pie").
Dylan was unusually playful, duck-walking like Chuck Berry during "Blowin' in the Wind" and delivering a sinister harmonica solo in "The Wicked Messenger." Not known for six-string wizardry, the fearless leader took several solo breaks, though he recycled the same one-note bends and trills. He even commiserated with the crowd, claiming that "we're getting wet, too." By injecting "Tangled Up in Blue" with new chords and transforming "Highway 61 Revisited" from a jangly jug-band tune to a slinky blues rave, Dylan kept the audience guessing.
His gritty voice, an acquired taste, has never been pretty, but he remains heartfelt. He still exerts control over his phrasing. After swallowing the beginning of a line in "Desolation Row," for example, he growled out the rest like an angry lion. Several melodic passages escaped his lips during "Girl of the North Country," but at times "Like a Rolling Stone" sounded like a poorly rendered "Saturday Night Live" parody of himself.
The hard rain perfectly mirrored Dylan's bleak take on life, reiterated in the lyrics of his latest song, "Things Have Changed," which throbbed with a reggae lilt. He bridged two tunes by stating "That was a sad story; here's an even sadder one." Though Dylan rendered the final number, "Blowin' in the Wind," with an almost unrecognizable melody and rhythm, the sentiments remained relevant, as audience members cheered the line that champions freedom. The tune over, Dylan listened to the rousing ovation and departed without saying a word.
Picking up where the Grateful Dead left off, Phil Lesh and Friends sounded pickled compared to Dylan.
The open-ended jams became maddening when the group meandered for eons and dragged out endings ad nauseum. The rendition of "China Doll" was so slow it sounded like a record playing backwards.
Lesh's reluctance to terminate his songs reflected the audience's refusal to let go of the past. The tie-dyed minions turned the proceedings into a mini-Woodstock sans mud by smoking copious amounts of marijuana, undulating as one and discovering a sense of camaraderie in the midst of a torrential downpour, which kept the spirit of the '60s alive for one more night.
