Bob Dylan plays a single hit at Bay Area show
Filing down the crowded steps at Berkeley's Greek Theatre on Saturday night after the show, Bob Dylan fans promptly began parsing out their perceptions of the man in the long, black raincoat.
Someone commented on the nature of his voice. After speaking on behalf of baby boomers for over 60 years, Dylan's raspy vocals are sometimes too coarse for comfort. But in Berkeley, on the first night of back-to-back performances, he delivered his iconic intonation with dramatic twists and burns. Mimicking the affection of a grandad enlivening a bedtime story with mischievous voices, Dylan's cries lifted through the sold-out amphitheater.
Others praised the crisp arrangements from his latest touring band. The quartet, anchored by bassist and longtime collaborator Tony Garnier, features dual guitarists Bob Britt and Doug Lancio. Both joined around the time of Dylan's last album of originals - 2020's outstanding "Rough and Rowdy Ways" - to bookend songs with rhythmic precision or sharp, melodic licks. Although guitars were some of the only instruments to embellish or break away in a solo that night, they never overshadowed Dylan in the middle at an electric keyboard.
Before reaching the street, where vendors hawked hot dogs and bootleg merch, a man wondered aloud to a friend about the meaning behind Dylan's hoodie. The 85-year-old wore a jet-black raincoat, and as he's done before on tour, Dylan performed with the hood over his head. The simple action is a signal for this particular fanbase. The troubadour is known for silently communicating that he wishes to be left undisturbed when his flips on the hood.
Some fans hypothesized that Dylan's hooded jacket was the reason he didn't address the Bay Area crowd or say anything from the stage. "Or," somebody said as the summer fog barreled into Berkeley from the Golden Gate Bridge, "maybe he was just cold."
Returning to the East Bay, the origin of his never-ending tour that sprung 36 years ago in Concord, Dylan performed a rousing show rooted in "Rough and Rowdy Ways" and covers of blues and rockabilly songs. The setlist may have lacked any monumental surprises, like when he played "Baby, Won't You Be My Baby" for the first time ever during a show outside Portland, Oregon, earlier this month. But Dylan and his band have refined their set to create a gorgeous and mid-tempo event where magic flourishes in the subtleties.
The evening opened with the John Doe Trio, an acoustic project from the proto-punk songwriter. Doe appeared in an ice-blue suit as the sun continued to shine, and the former Bay Area resident warned about "freezing your ass off" as the night continued. The frontman of the pioneering band X showed his tender side with a cover of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" before reaching into his back catalog. Doe said he wrote "See How We Are" in 1986, "when we were also in the s-tter," and his diatribe against an unjust world sounded as timeless as ever.
Lucinda Williams followed and nearly stole the night. (Later, I overheard a girl no more than 10 years old tell her mom she preferred the Southern singer to Dylan.) Williams is a powerhouse, lamenting over a hero lost to the bottle or a troubled childhood in the back seat.
Defying major commercial recognition, Williams is striding high in her late career, publishing an evocative memoir about growing up in the Deep South and releasing her 16th album earlier this year. She played two songs off "World's Gone Wrong" - noting how it's indeed different from the 1993 album "World Gone Wrong" by Bob Dylan - and included a disclaimer about the "disparity" heard in the new work. Williams said in a laconic speech how it's not supposed to bring you down but bring people together.
Her set featured several covers - including a track by the Delta bluesman Skip James and a defiant song from guitarist Memphis Minnie - while ending with a sing-along of Neil Young's "Rockin' in the Free World" that united the venue.
Afterward, while waiting for Dylan and his band to appear, the last of the sunshine faded beyond the Campanile clock tower. Word of the Knicks winning the NBA Finals proliferated in murmuring waves across the lawn before the tower bells chimed to signal 9 p.m.
With no screens or jumbotron, the Greek Theatre stage was tastefully barren - merely instruments and floodlights strategically pointed at a wall of back curtains. Its muted lighting was occasionally ruffled into motion by drafts of wind. The band appeared with drummer Anton Fig spurring the tight, rumbling rhythm of a reworked "To Be Alone With You." Dylan walked out last, a stagehand a few paces behind, to take the helm from the center. Notes from his keyboard started trickling in with the beat.
Dylan is a provocateur who pulls his best tricks in the middle of the song. Always revamping his music, Dylan unveiled an updated version of "All Along the Watchtower" early on in the night. It was the only gift for the "play something we know" crowd since the rest of the setlist was void of any noticeable hits. Although he's performed "Watchtower" live more than any other song, it appeared reborn on Saturday night. Dylan and his band added a fresh chord change, sliding in a catchy hook to a song that's famous for lacking a chorus. It sounded like heartland rock, perhaps an unintended tribute to Tom Petty who shared the same stage with Dylan exactly 40 years ago in June 1986.
The band followed with one of the most unexpected numbers of the night. Dylan started tapping an intro on the keyboard before landing on the melody for "Tryin' to Get to Heaven."
Off his 1997 comeback album "Time Out of Mind," the ballad for approaching the afterlife appeared in a stripped-down and focused form. The landmark album is credited with kick-starting Dylan's ongoing final act. The matured and moderate pace that's defined his music over the past three decades began with "Time Out of Mind." During "Heaven," Dylan brought the audience with him on his search for salvation, but before getting lost in the dark, he grabbed his harmonica. The solo brought on cheers as if it were a surprise guest.
Half of the 16-song setlist comprised covers, including Bo Diddley and Jerry Lee Lewis, and four songs off "Rough and Rowdy Ways." The new album is full of bluesy swing, and Dylan hasn't lost his touch for halting listeners through lyrics. While singing "Black Rider," Dylan earned a few noticeable chuckles when he hissed: "Go home to your wife, stop visiting mine."
The new songs and covers were smoothly woven in with a catalog that spans generations. At one point, Dylan and his band nailed a new groove for "When I Paint My Masterpiece," adding a rumba arrangement and Spanish-style flamenco guitar that loosened hips with a provocative rhythm.
Besides "Watchtower," which was arguably co-opted and outdone by Jimi Hendrix, Dylan didn't play any major hits. I know that left many fans disappointed, eager to hear "Blowing in the Wind" or "Like a Rolling Stone." Even Paul McCartney recently bemoaned going to see Dylan and not hearing "Mr. Tambourine Man" or other classics.
But I think it's naive to attend a Dylan concert expecting such a predictable performance. His entire career is predicated on sidestepping easy characterization, and it's a little too callow to assume you're going to get everything you want with Dylan. I think he's best enjoyed with a dose of humility; it's not what he didn't give you but what he did play.
While performing in Eugene, Oregon, last week, Dylan dusted off an American standard for the first time in nearly 20 years. "I Shall Be Released" is one of those songs that literally bring people together, with audience members often tucking arms behind shoulders as they sway with ode to mortality. It's been covered by more singers than could fit on a football team - even Maroon 5 took a swing at it - but for many in the Bay Area, the defining cover is from the Jerry Garcia Band. (The 1991 live version, of course.)
Dylan chose the song as his closer at the Greek, and it was a magnificent sendoff. Lancio's guitar played open notes that rang throughout the amphitheater like church bells as Dylan sang words of redemption for his last rites. Even though the hood was on over his head, there was no denying the audience from inching closer to him.
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This story was originally published June 15, 2026 at 7:19 PM.