This is a gig with a subtitle – Sings Dylan 66 – because this is Cat Power’s tribute to Dylan, drawing on the controversial 1966 tour and specifically the legendary Royal Albert Hall gig, which, of course, actually took place at the Manchester Free Trade Hall. Whilst it would be the same set list, there are differences – instead of Bob, we have Cat Power (a Bob Cat then?) on vocals, and whilst the band won’t be The Band, they do have the advantages of a state of the art sound system rather than the tiny speakers Dylan had to contend with. What else? Oh. No booing, there’ll be no booing. There’s the anticipation that someone will shout “Judas“; who knows, perhaps we’ll get a Greek Chorus for the condemnation. But as the lights dimmed on the tightly setup stage, which had been covered with copious amounts of smoke prior, that was still an unknown in an unseeable future.
It had been a delayed start – some twenty minutes or so behind time – and if this had been to build tension, then it had not had that effect on the jovial and relaxed crowd. So ‘She Belongs To Me‘ was warmly welcomed, with Cat Power centre stage, an acoustic guitar player to her right and seated at keyboards, a harmonica player on her left. Whilst it’s a little disconcerting at first to have guitar, voice and harmonica coming from different parts of the stage, it does make a compliment to Bob in that it takes three people to do what he did alone. The combination of Cat Power’s cracked and gravelly vocal with the perfect accompaniment makes for a nice contrast at first – and it’s great to be able to hear every line of Dylan’s poetry. As the set progressed, it became ever clearer that these are different representations – not just an imitation. For example, ‘Visions of Johanna‘ seemed to have had its venom drawn, whilst ‘It’s All Over Now Baby Blue‘ was sung without any apparent lyrical emphasis and even lacked that effective snarly “and” in the chorus line of the original. The same, but different. And that’s ok, it’s to be expected, phrasing will be different, but there were occasions when it felt too far – the shift of ‘Just Like A Woman‘ to be about a male lover being perhaps the most noteworthy example – now “he makes love just like a woman” but he’s not a fully emotionally aware adult, no, ‘cos “he breaks just like a little girl” which adds a bizarre misogynist twist to the song. The acoustic side of the evening played out with a slow ‘Mr Tambourine Man‘, which again felt emotionally stripped, even if Cat Power was dancing with two hands waving free. With the delayed start and the constant sipping from a cup it did suggest that perhaps Chan Marshall was not feeling on top form.
So, thank the gods for electricity. It came as something of a relief when the full band came to the stage to provide a full sound, and someone seemed to have found a tanner for the meter as the stage spotlights came on, dispelling, at least for a while, the stage gloom. The surge of electricity also promised a more up-tempo second half, and with Cat Power keeping speed with them, things got off to an excellent start on a sarcastic and angry ‘Tell me, Momma‘ full of speed, life and spite. The beat combo powered into ‘Baby Let Me Follow You Down‘, hinting at the possibility of, at any moment, just letting rip, and the combination with Cat Power’s vocals was a powerful, pleasurable moment which embodied the urgent force of the song.
A mercurial change was made to ‘Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat‘, which shifted from a fairly light shuffling blues to become a sarcastic highlight of the set. It’s like having the song reborn. At the risk of sounding like a Dylan purist, the same couldn’t be said for ‘Positively 4th Street‘, which dragged its heels and didn’t seem to be able to summon any real viciousness to fling in the face of the know-it-all music journalist who finds themselves completely out of their depth. The set closer of ‘Like A Rolling Stone‘ was powerful – maybe not quite “fucking loud” but retaining some of that cathartic thrill. Something which appeared to sum up the evening was that several times on the “How does it feel” line, Cat Power held the mic’ out to the audience, our turn to roar. Not a whisper. There had, thankfully, been no cry of “Judas” that would have been crass pantomime.
The final leaving of the stage received generous applause and a partial standing ovation, followed by a rapid and fairly subdued exit from the hall. It had been a strange gig, with moments of genius and moments that landed less well. It made, though, a convincing argument for the advisability of going electric.
