If there is one thing history has taught us about this concert, or at least a concert performance of these Bob Dylan songs in this order with an acoustic first half and then electric second half arrangements, it is that you do not want to be the person shouting “Judas!” The poor chap who did it first in 1966 was destined to live, once correctly identified for a documentary in 1999 by Andy Kershaw, as the unenviable audio representation of a generation of UK folk lovers not ready for their singer-songwriters to plug in and get loud. In fact, during that documentary, the heckler John Cordwell did admit that the official release of the concert was fantastic but was not how it sounded on the in-house PA system that night. As for the copycat heckler, who can be heard on this live concert album? Well, they are not going to receive any plaudits for adding to the drama because, if nothing else, they do not even shout it at the right moment. Perhaps that is why Cat Power does not respond with the same dialogue as Dylan back in 1966 (“I don’t believe you, you’re a liar”, etc) but simply exhales with an exasperated “Jesus”. But the primary reason she might appear unimpressed is because it completely misses the point of what this concert is all about.
Modern-day acts recreating an entire concert performance of the past with a set list in identical order as the original date is nothing new. It has been done a lot by Prog Rock tribute acts, for example, especially those that are re-presenting tours with strong theatrical and visual elements. This particular Bob Dylan show, from his 1966 UK tour, was arguably one of the most famous bootleg albums of all time, way before it got an official release on the Bootleg Series in 1998. For years, it had been wrongly credited as being the Albert Hall performance. Still, Dylanologists deduced that the “Judas” night happened at the Manchester Free Trade Hall, which is why the official release was dubbed ‘The Albert Hall Concert’ despite it being the famous Manchester recording. Cat Power (AKA Chan Marshall) has actually played this show at The Albert Hall (as Dylan did that same week in 1966). Still, her intention was never to present it as a theatrical tribute complete with audience plants for slow hand claps and rehearsed spontaneous ad-libs. That would have been beyond tacky; this show would always be about an appreciation of the music. It was, after all, a concert performed by one of the world’s greatest songwriters at a creative peak in a show with two distinct halves, one of which was regrettably hampered somewhat by audience resistance and primitive sound equipment. By playing and recording the show this way, she has finally given this powerful setlist the platform it always warranted.
There are several reasons why Cat Power is the perfect artist to realise such a show. For one, her connection to the music of Bob Dylan is long-term; the influence has been audible in her style from the very beginning. In 2000, she put out her ‘Covers Album’ which included an essential low-fi piano version of Dylan’s early curio classic ‘Paths Of Victory’ whilst her own ‘Song To Bobby’ from the 2008 ‘Jukebox’ record is one of the greatest original songs written directly about Dylan that I have heard. On top of that, there is the way she sings, a kind of semi-spoken soulful swoon that is so well suited to the material the man himself was singing 57 years ago. After the show, which happened in November 2022, Chan admitted she has “such respect for the man who crafted so many songs that helped develop conscious thinking in millions of people, helped shape the way they see the world. So even though my hands were shaking so much I had to keep them in my pockets, I felt real dignity for myself. It felt like a real honour for me to stand there”.
The acoustic opening half of this performance is very respectful of the original show’s arrangements, right down to some piercing stretching out on the harmonica solos. Wearing the songs as well as she did, Chan was able to bring her own feminine understanding to ‘Just Like A Woman’ whilst her delight as she wraps her tongue around the colourful procession of imagery in ‘Mr Tambourine Man’ is undeniable.
When the band join in for the Dylan rarity ‘Tell Me Momma’ the sound is initially less grating than those familiar with the 1966 recording might expect; they are far less an explosion and at first play in a style closer to a country rock combo, but this really does work beautifully and as the set gathers pace and power, so do the band. Chan absolutely nails ‘Baby Let Me Follow You Down’, and maybe her first on-stage announcement of “this is fun” at that song’s conclusion points to how she was relaxing into the performance by this stage; this one sounding as much a Cat Power song as it does a Dylan one.
Back in 1966, the rousing closer ‘Like A Rolling Stone’ was more like a battle cry, a defiant two-fingered salute to anyone who was failing or unwilling to keep pace with Bob’s relentless artistic forward momentum. Here, the roar that erupts at the song’s ending could not sound any more unanimous, an outpouring of love and gratitude deservedly raining down on a timeless set of music and an artist with the depth of understanding, integrity and feeling to pull it off. What a night this must have been.
Cat Power Sings Dylan: The 1966 Royal Albert Hall Concert is available to pre-order on DomMart-exclusive clear-coloured double vinyl, Indies-exclusive white-coloured double vinyl, standard double vinyl, double CD and digitally. Pre-order: DomMart | Digital
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