Gersh on Dylan: It Was The Best of Dylan. It Was The Worst of Dylan

Gersh Kuntzman’s review of the Prospect Park Dylan show in the Brooklyn Paper got me laughing out loud here in Sag Harbor.

It didn’t take long for even the casual Dylanologist to see that Bob
Dylan’s performance at the Prospect Park Bandshell on Tuesday night was
going to serve up that classic Dickensian schism.

For me, the moment came during the second song, a garbled, growling
version of “Lay Lady Lay” that turned the classic from a coy come-on
into an old man’s futile plea.

I know the words refer to a big brass bed, but the way Dylan was
mumbling and twitching, the only bed I could picture anyone laying
across was a hospital bed.

I know what he’s saying. I’ve heard Dylan many times in person and on TV and it’s often a game of "Name That Tune" trying to figure out what great classic he’s singing. Here’s Gersh on Dylan’s somewhat diminished vocal skills:

Dylan’s best ballads become dirges. His best lyrics become lost in
garble. His best phrasing becomes run-on sentences. An artist who
crafted some of the greatest lyrics in rock history spits them out like
they’re throwaway B-sides. On Tuesday night, “Masters of War,” the
perfect song in a time of seemingly endless war, lost all the power
that Dylan’s angry rasp once gave it.

Still Gersh thought that at least half the show was pretty great. And he paints a vivid picture of the scene last night in Prospect Park:

The concert was a classic Brooklyn event, which brought out a crowd of
pols (Borough President Markowitz and Councilman Bill DeBlasio), fellow
musical legends (bluesman Danny Kalb was in the third row) and plenty
of regular folk. … Thousands of people heard (but didn’t see) the show
for free, laying out a blanket on the outside of the perimeter fence,
which had been covered to prevent a good view. … There was so much
pot-smoking in the Port-o-Potties that they should have been called
Port-o-Parties. … Dylan’s only acknowledgement that he was in Brooklyn
came during the encore when, apropos of nothing, he said, “Man, I wish
the Dodgers were still in Brooklyn.”