The July sun was at its most brutal as the crowd started filing into the Durham Bulls Athletic Park on Tuesday afternoon, quickly staking out standing room in the outfield grass and spreading their blankets in the base paths.
The baseball field took a break from hosting Triple-A teams like the Buffalo Bisons or Toledo Mudhens to welcome a more formidable lineup of Willie Nelson, John Mellencamp and Bob Dylan. The trio has been playing one-night only gigs in minor league ballparks since early July, each with a family friendly 5:30 start time. From the ballfield settings to Nelson’s red, white and blue guitar strap to Mellencamp’s familiar “Oh, but ain’t that America” refrain, these events couldn’t be more overtly patriotic without involving apple pies and handguns.
Iconic country singer Willie Nelson took the stage first, wearing a sleeveless Bob Dylan tee and proving that the only time it’s appropriate to wear the band’s gear to the concert is if you’re Willie Nelson. T-shirt aside, the first thing you notice when Nelson starts to play is his guitar. “Trigger”, his ancient Martin acoustic is weathered and worn but has a warmth and familiarity, just like the man wearing it across his body.
The seventy-six year old strummed his way through a laid-back twenty-two song set of old (and even older) favorites, his unmistakable nasal twang curling around the choruses of “Always On My Mind”, “On the Road Again”, and “Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys”.
He made a fast and easy connection with the quickly-increasing audience, walking to the front of the stage to wave, blow kisses, and toss his hat before tying on his trademark red bandana. Halfway through the set, telltale curls of smoke started to appear above the crowd standing in the outfield, making Durham the only place you could inhale the intermingling scents of pot and hot dogs, other than maybe at David Crosby’s house.
Nelson, a one-time High Times cover boy, has been a vocal supporter of marijuana legalization and even offers a pair of official tour t-shirts with drawings of the leafy green, one with the bold-fonted words “Willie’s First Aid”--perhaps a play on his affiliation with the Farm Aid relief organization--and another that reads “Think Green”, which works on two levels, considering his equally staunch commitment to environmental causes.
John Mellencamp was up next and proved to be the heart of the order, both because of his spot in the middle of the lineup and because of the amount of energy he packed into his hour-long performance. The fifty-seven year old quickly proved he hasn’t lost any of the attitude and swagger he had back when he was an American Fool who wore ‘Cougar’ as his last name.
Sometimes it’s forgotten, but for the bulk of the 1980s John (Cougar) Mellencamp was one of the biggest names around. He was never as clean cut as Huey Lewis and he didn’t try to save your soul like Bruce Springsteen, but--just like any bad boy worth his weight in white t-shirts--he’d sure as hell show you a good time. He did it again on Tuesday night, stacking his set list with seven songs from his Greatest Hits collection and proving with his newer material that he’s still as introspective and socially aware as ever.
Mellencamp’s voice still carries the same familar rasp--even twenty-five years ago he sounded like a thirty year smoker--and his vocals are enhanced by the strength and precision of the musicians who share his stage. “Don’t Need This Body” from last year’s stripped down Life, Death, Love and Freedom was made all the more haunting because of the accompaniment of John Gunnell on standup bass and Miriam Sturm on the violin. The violin has long been a part of Mellencamp’s heartland sound and Sturm’s deft bow work gives the crowd the opportunity to play air fiddle, something you rarely see outside of Charlie Daniels concerts.
At one point, Mellencamp approached the microphone, rolled the sleeves of his white shirt to reveal a faded patch of forearm ink and asked “So do you want to hear an old song or a new song?” He laughed when the crowd shouted in favor of the former, probably because he knew the answer anyway. Although he left Jack and Diane sitting back at the Tastee Freeze, he did break into an a capella version of “Cherry Bomb”--with the audience enthusiastically providing all of the “yeah yeah yeah”s--before stopping to introduce a new Pete Seeger-y composition, “Save Some Time to Dream”.
Mellencamp, guitarist Andy York, and Life producer T-Bone Burnett had just recorded a version of the track at Memphis’ legendary Sun Studios the day before. “I stood on the X where Elvis stood [to record],” Mellencamp said with a grin. “It was the most fun I’ve ever had making a record.”
As promised, he followed it up with an old song, “Small Town”, changing one of the lines to “My wife was 13 years old when I wrote this song.” His wife Elaine--a model and current face of Almay cosmetics--was watching from the wings of the stage.
He closed the show with hard-charging versions of “Crumblin’ Down” and “Hurt So Good”, infusing the final song with all the sly charm it had in 1982, proving that bad boys might have to grow older but they don’t have to grow up.
The clouds started to gather and it was well after dark when the lights dimmed for Bob Dylan, the inky sky providing just the right amount of menace for Dylan’s black-clad band and somewhat intimidating presence.
The PA announcer gave a lengthy intro that described him as “the poet laureate of rock and roll” which is a more accurate job description than simply “rock musician”. Bob Dylan is one of a handful of performers who have transcended popular culture to become legend--demigods, even. Hell, he’s just a blue ox away from being a tall tale and, at this point, it’s not entirely implausible.
Unfortunately, all the myths in the world don’t help if you can’t sing. While even at his most Freewheelin’, Dylan has never been accused of having a silky voice but he’s edging closer to seventy and age and endless soft packs of cigarettes have left their mark. To put it kindly, he’s like a piano with a few broken keys that just can’t hit certain notes anymore. To put it accurately, he sounds like a blender crushing ice cubes to the tune of “Don’t Think Twice (It’s All Right)”.
It’s frowned upon--if not outright blasphemous--to criticize any facet of Bob Dylan but it seems like seeing him in concert from now on is akin to going to a museum to see an equally legendary piece of artwork; you can appreciate it--both what it stands for and the genius within--but that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re gonna enjoy it.
The man is a creative live performer though, and his set was filled with innovative arrangements of otherwise familiar tunes. He reached all the way back to 1965 for “It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)” but better than half of the songs were pulled from his three most recent albums
His performance was somewhat restrained for most of the night and he seemed content to spend time behind the keyboard but he came to life for the big finish of “Like a Rolling Stone”, “Jolene”--from this spring’s Together Through Life--and “All Along the Watchtower.” It was an epic end to the evening, not unlike the big finale of the fireworks shows that light the sky after Durham’s Saturday night home games.
Weaving through the crowd on the way to the parking lot, a burly man in front of me turned to the woman beside him and said, “Man, Bobby, Johnny, and Willie! If my ears weren’t ringin’ and my feet didn’t hurt, I’d think I’d been to heaven and back.”
Oh, but ain’t that America.