TOKYO – On the night of April 12th, I finally got my chance to hear Bob Dylan in Tokyo. It was like coming full circle: I’d first heard of Bob in 1964, when I was in 8th grade at the American School in Japan and Pete Seeger came to play for us. It was Pete’s first world tour after being lifted from the Cold War blacklist and getting his passport back, and Pete had terrific energy. Halfway into his set of old folk songs, traditional ballads, and Woody Guthrie tunes, he picked up his huge 12-string guitar.
“There’s a new folksinger in New York named Bob Dylan, and he’s writing some great songs,” he said. “Here’s one of them.” And with that, he launched into “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall,” drawing out the words: “it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a haaaaaard rains gonna fall.” I listened intently to every word and verse, and was enthralled. This is the music I’ve always wanted to hear, I thought to myself. I’ve got to find out just who this Dylan is.”
As luck would have it, I had a Swedish friend on the campus of International Christian University in western Tokyo, where I lived at the time. Gunnar was his name. He had just returned from living in New York City with his parents, and had every Dylan record released until then, starting with his debut album and ending with Bringing It All Back Home. One day, I borrowed them and recorded them all on my trusty Sony reel-to-reel tape player.
For the next six months, I sat in my little room in my family’s house and played those tapes, over and over. I had no idea which album was which, and no liner notes of course. As I listened, I was blown away, hooked for life. Since then, starting with my first concert in 1974, I’ve seen Dylan at least 50 times, and watched his musical development through the 1980s, the 1990s and into the 2000s. I’ve seen him in Santa Monica, New York City, Wheeling, WV, and dozens of venues in and around Washington, DC, and Baltimore. My last time was at The Anthem in DC on one of his stops on his current Rough and Rowdy Ways world tour.
But I’d never seen him in Tokyo. Until this week, when I was back in the city for the first time in 23 years. In late February, I saw Dylan’s tweet that he was planning his Japan leg for April 2023, and immediately got in touch with Alan Gleason, my oldest friend from Tokyo days who’s been living here for years. We were both at that Pete Seeger concert back in 1964, and had gotten into Dylan at the same time. Like so many of our compatriates at the time, we’d bought cheap guitars and, influenced by Dylan, Seeger, and some old Dave Van Ronk records, began playing folk music. When I emailed Alan, who saw Bob at Budokan on that first famous tour of Japan in 1978, he didn’t even know Bob was coming, and was happy to scope out tickets. He scored,. I immediately began planning my trip. I landed at Haneda Airport on April 10 after a 15 hour flight from Dulles, ready for Bob and come what may.
The concert was at the Tokyo Garden Theater in a desolate area of hotels, shopping centers, and restaurants in an area recently built from reclaimed land on Tokyo Bay. Our tickets were for the 7th row in an arena that seemed about two-thirds full. Fully complying with Bob’s directives, all concert goers had to lock their phones way in little pouches that were unlocked after the show. That was fine by me. Even though I’ve always appreciated the discreet tapings at his concerts, I’ve also had some shows ruined by cell phones blocking my sight (once in DC, I had to ask some guy in front of me to shut down his phone, which was shining at me through the dark; he wanted to follow the words, he told me).
Bob’s audience on Wednesday night was primarily Japanese, and mostly geezers like me in their 60s and 70s, plus a scattering of American, Canadian, Irish, Australian, and Chinese fans who follow him around. Our seats were great; we could see every movement on stage. Japanese make terrific listeners, probably the most respectful fans I know; there was barely a word from anyone throughout the performance. They clapped when they’d recognize a tune, and again when the song was over. It was my kind of audience and so different from the USA, where obnoxious can hardly describe some fans I’ve had to put up with.
After the initial blast of welcoming classical music, the band came out and Dylan walked over to his grand piano. They started a little tentatively; on the opener, “Watching the River Flow,” his voice could hardly be heard, but the sound guys quickly took care of that. From then on, as he worked through his set list, the music got better and better. “Mostly You Go Your Way” was his reworked version from Shadow Kingdom, which has so influenced his singing on this tour. I enjoyed hearing that in part because it’s how he began his sets on his great tour with The Band in 1974. But back then, he nearly shouted out the words. This time around, it was quieter, and jauntier.
Some of the songs sounded a lot like his last tour, but much of the set has been completely reworked. Key West was one of those; it’s no longer the slow ballad of RARW but a hard-edged, swampy blues. His guitarists, Bob Brit and Doug Lancio, plus his longtime string player Donnie Heron, formed a kind of triangle around him at the piano as Tony Garnier stood behind, anchoring the tunes with his unmistakable bass. The new drummer, Jerry Pentacost, could barely be seen, but his sound added a real crunch and thump to Bob’s reworked tunes. Like I said, it was a whole different sound than when I heard him at The Anthem on the first leg of this tour. I sat back and enjoyed the sound. Watching him for the first time in Tokyo, I felt a deep mix of love and respect for those first times I listened to him way back when. That feeling deepened and overwhelmed me as he sang “When I Paint My Masterpiece,” and my first tears started. At 71, I too feel the time passing yet am certain I’m on the right path artistically – in my case, writing; I’ll get there, just like you, I thought.
Throughout, the audience was warm in its applause and appreciation, if a little tentative. But that all changed with “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight,” as jaunty and ribald as it was on Shadow Kingdom. That got the biggest applause of the night so far, and Bob appreciated it. “Glad you all love ‘Baby,’” he said, a grin on his face. The joy picked up with “Gotta Serve Somebody,” another favorite, backed by Pentacost’s great drumming. Then he introduced the band. When he got to Tony Garnier, the place erupted and the applause was long. These fans, too, deeply appreciate Tony’s role in Bob’s music for so many years, as do I. That seemed to energize Bob even more, and after another beautiful take of “I’ve Made Up My Mind To Give Myself To You,” he turned everything up a notch.
As I reported just after the show, Bob blew us all away by suddenly breaking from his regular set piece of Sinatra tunes with “Truckin’” from the Grateful Dead. I recognized it from the first pounding notes and could barely believe my ears. What a great song to mark your years on the road, I thought, and ours too. I’d read Bob’s recent comments about his deep friendship with, and love for, Jerry Garcia, and this seemed super-appropriate for the moment. As Jambase pointed out, he also wrote about the song in his latest book. Hearing him do this was a joyous moment, and definitely the highlight of the show. Apparently it was his first ever performance of this song, and it made everyone happy. Within two hours, a clip of the performance had been posted. Bob did ‘Truckin’? How great! What a surprise that must have been!
Bob’s deep emotional attachment to his audience came through again with his closer, “Every Grain of Sand,” which I’ve always considered as one of his masterpieces. It’s so personal, so emotional, so spiritual, yet so universal at the same time. I cried with joy and deep thanks. With that, Bob and the band gathered in front, gave their last bow, and were off. Alan and I walked out into the cool evening and shared our enthusiasm with everyone around. ‘Truckin’ was the perfect song for my first time at Dylan show in Tokyo, and made me feel an ever greater kinship with the troubadour than ever before.
It’s been a long, strange trip for me too, from the dark days of JFK’s assassination and Vietnam through 9/11 to the current nightmare of MAGA America, and we’ve been in sync that whole time. I’m so grateful to Bob for being part of my life, and now it had come full circle. As I shouted at him after the show, “thanks Bob, we love you.” I meant every word.
