Ricki C. Saw Bob Dylan & The Hawks Live 50 Years Ago Today. Seriously.

Again, furtherly apropos of the new Band documentary - Once Were Brothers - this story originally ran in 2015.

I saw Bob Dylan live exactly 50 years ago today, November 19th, 1965 (the first time, there have been subsequent viewings/concerts/shows).  That’s kind of mind-boggling to me, partly because in 1965 America was in the middle of Nuclear Apocalypse Fever, and I didn’t think MANKIND would exist in 50 years, let alone me.  (On quite the other hand, the science-fiction stories I read and loved by Ray Bradbury & Harlan Ellison promised me a future of personal jet-packs, bubble cities and human colonies on the moon & Mars in 50 years’ time.  Instead, in 2015 I find myself surrounded by children held in thrall by iPads, asshole hipsters and terrorists in Paris.  This was NOT The Future I was promised.)

But I digress…….

November was a pretty big month for me and rock & roll shows at the now sadly-demolished Veteran’s Memorial Auditorium.  I saw Dylan there on November 19th, 1965, The Doors there on November 2nd, 1968, and The Who (touring Tommy for the first time, and for those of you scoring at home, THE BEST rock & roll show I ever had the privilege to witness) on November 1st, 1969.  There are links about The Doors and The Who shows from my old blog – Growing Old With Rock & Roll – posted  below, but you might wanna check out the Dylan link before I amplify some points.    

Bob Dylan & the Hawks Live, November 19th, 1965 / Growing Old With Rock & Roll

Anyone who doesn’t own (or download or whatever kids do nowadays) the double-CD Bob Dylan Live 1966 (Dylan Bootleg Series vol. 4) should seek it out IMMEDIATELY if you count yourself as ANY kind of fan of rock & roll music.  The electric disc of the set is as riveting a set of music as I’ve ever heard.  This was not a polite back & forth push & shove between audience and performer, this was an all-out 47-minute musical/cultural WAR.  That show – taped in Manchester, England May 17th, 1966, (6 months after I saw virtually the same show) – is the one containing the (in)famous “Judas!” / “I don’t believe you. You’re a liar.  PLAY FUCKING LOUD!” exchange between an irate audience member and Dylan.  Just as I detailed in my blog, the folkie fans of Dylan apparently sat smug & satisfied throughout the acoustic opening half of the show and then revved up the venom for the electric set with The Hawks.  (Or The Crackers,  in Levon Helm’s terminology, later to become the rather neutered entity reverently, politely referred to by adoring hippies as The Band.  My, how the times changed between 1966 and 1968 when Music From Big Pink became a touchstone/talisman for many of the the same people who slow-clapped, booed and otherwise vilified Robbie, Rick, Richard, Garth & various drummers throughout 1965 & 1966.)

Anyway, I allotted myself 500 words for this blog, and I’m getting close, so let me just say this: listen to the audience throwing Dylan & the guys off their game between the end of “I Don’t Believe You” and the beginning of “Baby Let Me Follow You Down” on the aforementioned Bob Dylan Live in 1966.  And then listen to the way Dylan & The Hawks ROAR/BLAST/PUMMEL their way into “Baby Let Me Follow You Down” and tell me that’s not where punk-rock got invented.  (p.s. Listen to that exchange at brain-numbing volume on headphones or don’t bother listening at all.)  - Ricki C.     

(bonus Growing Old With Rock & Roll, November Veteran's Memorial links:)

The Doors Live @ Vet's Memorial / November 2nd, 1968

The Who Live @ Vet's Memorial / November 1st, 1969

Me and Bob Dylan - by Colin Gawel

Listen while you read! Spotify playlist of a recent Bob Dylan setlist

Bob Dylan is playing Mershon Auditorium, November 4th, here in Columbus.

So this Monday I am seeing Bob Dylan for the third time. Not to sound morbid, but odds are this is probably my final Dylan show. While I am a fan of the music and the man, I’m an even bigger fan of the myth. No single Bob record has impacted me the way some Springsteen records have, but Bob’s book Chronicles and the movie No Direction Home have both had a profound impact on my thinking as person and an - ahem - artist, if you will. 

In fact, as I am writing this at Colin’s Coffee between serving customers, I dug out my personal copy of Chronicles from the shelves. I used to underline parts of the book the way I suppose other folks might underline Biblical passages or whatever. The only other book I have done this with is Woody Guthrie - A Life, written by “a fella named Joe Klein” as famously plugged on Springsteen’s Live 75-85 collection. Woody begat Bob begat Bruce begat..….?

I guess the connection between those two books are that Woody and Bob are spiritual searchers. They never rest. They move forward even when - or especially when - they aren’t sure which direction is best. I guess the lesson I take away from this is in two parts: 1) Never stop trying, and 2) Trying something, even if it fails, is usually better than being scared to try anything at all. 

Or, to put it another way: 1) It would be a lot easier to NOT write this essay. 2)There is a good chance it won’t be very good anyway. But just engaging in the creative effort justifies the effort no matter what the result. That is my takeaway from Bob Dylan. 

You’ll notice I used the word “usually” two paragraphs up. This kind of mentality does open the door for some spectacular failures. As Ricki C. often says, “Bob Dylan has made more bad records than good records,” and I suppose he might be right. But still, that is what you get with Bob Dylan. He is on HIS journey and you are welcome to follow along. Or not. His live shows are the same way. Springsteen may drag you through the weeds, but eventually you end up at a shiny city on the hill. Bob might drag you through the weeds and leave you in a dark swamp. Then the house lights come on. 

Here are a  couple of passages I underlined in the Chronicles book. These are both from the 1986 tour when Dylan was backed by Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers:

Tom was at the top of his game and I was at the bottom of mine. My own songs had become strangers to me. The mirror had swung around and I could see the future - an old actor fumbling in garbage cans outside the theater of past triumphs.

A bit later on the same tour:

The shows with Petty finished up in December, and I saw that instead of being stranded somewhere at the end of the story, I was actually in the prelude to the beginning of another one.

I like that. I want to think like that. 

As for the movie No Direction Home, in my opinion the best rock documentary ever made, it gave me the historical background on why Bob Dylan means so much to people older than myself. I wasn’t around to experience the 60’s with the times a changin’ and then changin’ again when Bob went electric. The Beatles might have been the big bang for rock n roll but Bob plugging in made a loud sound too. Or so I learned watching this movie. Growing up I knew Bob Dylan was important but I didn’t really know why. The music I heard never seemed to justify the hype. When he appeared with Keef and Woody at Live Aid I was excited because it was Bob Dylan making an appearance, but the music just didn’t move the needle for me. (As a kid) I vividly remember buying my first Dylan record at Used Kids when I was 14 or 15 years old. I said to Ron House, “I should probably buy a Bob Dylan record, right?” He came out from behind the counter, fished through the bins for about 30 seconds, handed me Highway 61 Revisited and said, “This would be good for someone like you.” Not knowing what that meant I promptly bought that record along with Dokken Under Lock and Key. 

And I suppose I identify with Bob on some vague Midwestern/Great Lakes level. When he talks, I just get it. I’m paraphrasing here but at one point in the movie he talks about growing up in the North and how the weather teaches you to think abstractly. When it’s hot, it’s eventually going to be cold, and when it’s cold it will eventually get hot.  I embrace that and every once and a while I’d like to think it filters down to songs I’ve written like “Superior” and “Cold Weather.” 

Anyway, that’s the story of myself and Bob Dylan. - Colin Gawel

(By the way, the first time staff writer Ricki C. saw Bob Dylan live was before most of our Pencil Storm readers were even born; read all about it here in Growing Old With R&R: Shows I Saw in the 60’s, part one; Bob Dylan & the Hawks, 11/19/1965)

Ricki C. on 614 Cast Talking About Seeing Bob Dylan Electric @ Vet's in 1965. Wow.

If you haven't checked out the new Six One Four Cast it's time to give it a listen. Click the link below to hear Colin asking Ricki C. about seeing Bob Dylan on his first electric tour at the now demolished Veteran's Memorial here in Cbus. This is essential listening for all rock n roll fans. It will be the best 5 minutes you spend today.

Click here for Colin and Ricki C. talking Bob Dylan on the 614 Cast.

Click here to read Ricki's "Dylan in '65" Growing Old With Rock & Roll blog entry

Click here to read "They Are Tearing Down Vet's Memorial Pt 5: The New York Dolls" by Ricki C.

They're Tearing Down Vet's Memorial, part one - by Ricki C.

Awhile back, Brian Phillips sent me a link to a Veteran’s Memorial Auditorium website that lists every show that took place at the venue from the time it opened in 1955 onward, and it gave me the idea for this series.

They’re tearing down Vet’s Memorial.

You have no idea how much typing that sentence makes my heart hurt.

Vet’s Memorial was Ground Zero for rock & roll shows in Columbus, starting – for me, at least – in 1965 and stretching well into the 80’s, when it was supplanted by the Ohio Center over at the Convention Center.  (The Ohio Center, by the way, was a toilet with absolutely ABYSMAL acoustics compared to Vet’s.)

Vet’s Memorial was my High Holy Temple of the Catholic Church of the Rock & Roll.

I saw Bob Dylan’s first electric tour there.  I saw the Jimi Hendrix Experience, I saw The Doors, Janis Joplin, Cream, etc.  I saw some less popular, less fondly remembered 1960’s acts – Vanilla Fudge, Iron Butterfly, Donovan – there.  I saw The Turtles and they were fucking AMAZING.  I saw Judy Collins, I saw James Taylor with Carole King opening.  I saw Elton John in 1971 when he was still a rocker, before all the crazy outfits & sunglasses and his weekly singles off his monthly albums.  I saw the two greatest rock & roll shows I have ever witnessed – The Who in 1969 and Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band in 1978 – at Vet’s Memorial.

Speaking of the 70’s, I saw Bob Seger & the Silver Bullet Band, Aerosmith and Blue Oyster Cult there probably just about every year in the mid-to-late 70’s.  (Plus perennial opening bands like Styx, Foghat and REO Speedwagon WAY too many times on their long, slow slog to the top of the classic-rock junkheap.) 

Anyway, the idea of this series is that I will pick one show from each month and write about them throughout 2015.  The shows will span the era from 1965 to somewhere around 1985. 

SWEET / STYX / ERIC CARMEN – JANUARY 28TH, 1976

I chose this show partly to illustrate the diversity of triple bills you would get in the 1970’s, but mostly - oddly - because it was the only show I saw in the month of January on the entire Vet's calendar.  It  was also the only show I ever witnessed in which the bottom-billed act was clearly the best of the night.  (The first time I saw Aerosmith, by the way, was at Mershon Auditorium on campus in 1973, bottom-billed to Robin Trower and Mott The Hoople.  Aerosmith handily blew Trower off the stage that night, but really stood no chance against the rock & roll juggernaut that was Mott back in the day.) 

Eric Carmen – formerly of Cleveland’s favorite sons, Raspberries – had just released his first solo album and was right back where he had started in 1972, bottom-billed and hungry.  He had assembled a crack touring band from the best players Cleveland had to offer (a formidable pool of rockers in those mid-70’s days).  They played a short, tight, hard set that was an improbable cross of power-pop and prog-rock.  (Kinda like Yes when they still used to cover The Beatles’ “Every Little Thing.”)  And man, did they ever NAIL Raspberries' two best songs: “Overnight Sensation” and “Tonight.”    

Audience reaction to Eric Carmen?  Nil.  Nada.  Zero.  Zilch.  The Columbus crowd couldn't have cared less.  I was crushed. 

Then Styx came out and did their patented Big Rock Show set of Broadway show tunes masquerading as rock & roll.  (For those of you scoring at home, I consider Styx the Second Worst “Rock” Band of All Time, with only Kansas coming in below them.)  Styx trotted out every Corporate Rock cliché of the day: fake operatic tenor vocals ala Queen from Dennis DeYoung; obligatory “lofty” sci-fi lyrics ala Led Zeppelin (in the truly abysmal “Come Sail Away,” the worst rip-off of The Who's "Won't Get Fooled Again" EVER); and generous helpings of truly ponderous, hopelessly overwrought synthesizer-laden heaviosity (to paraphrase Woody Allen).

Audience reaction to Styx?  Of course, the crowd unabashedly loved them: hook, line and Arena Rock sinker.  (Really, I should have seen classic-rock radio coming down the pike right at that exact moment.)   

I had been looking forward to seeing Sweet live since back in 1974 when the Desolation Boulevard album ruled my turntable.  I loved the Second Coming of The Who power-pop stylings of “Ballroom Blitz,” "The 6-Teens" and - especially - "Fox On The Run."  Fuck Styx, THIS was how you rocked high-pitched operatic vocals: with lyrics about girls, girls and more girls and tearing up the local rock venue. 

So of course Sweet came out blaring & blasting, trying to overpower & out-bombast Styx & their ilk, and succeeded only in completely burying their power-pop proclivities beneath a slab of Heavy-Metal Rawk Guitar Histrionics.  Compounding that problem, they were hopelessly weak on vocals and couldn’t come anywhere close to reproducing the harmonies that had been crucial on their records.  (You can say what you want about Chinn & Chapman as bubblegum schlockmeister producers, but man, did they know how to layer vocals for maximum effect.)

Audience reaction to Sweet?  The Styx-worshipping masses started leaving about five or six songs into Sweet's set, and I really couldn’t blame 'em.

I remember very clearly walking out of Vet’s Memorial that cold January night and saying to my buddy Jeff, “Man, this Styx, Rush and Kansas crap has GOT to stop.  There has to be something new and better out there somewhere.”

Punk-rock was amping-up just at that moment, but I had no way of knowing that then.  God bless the future, and God bless The Ramones. – Ricki C. / January 25th, 2015.