TIcket Stub of the Moment #1

My attendance at the show was unexpected, though welcome—A chance call from a friend with an extra ticket sealed the deal. I went with low expectations: one cannot expect a man in his late sixties to sound the same as he did forty years ago. From what I’ve been able to glean from reports of his recent live work, Dylan shows can be somewhat hit or miss affairs. One night might be transcendent, the next abysmal. We got neither. The Halifax show was a solid, workmanlike show from a professional band, led by a singer who, if not the dynamo he once was, at least presented an interesting, if ultimately detached, persona in performance. As one would expect from his last few albums, Dylan’s touring outfit is primarily a blues-rock affair, and the set-list was heavily weighted towards songs from his last couple of albums. I’ve enjoyed his recent material, but the long, sometimes repetitive, jams don’t quite pack the same punch as his earlier forays into the genre (think Highway 61 Revisited). On the whole, Dylan was best on the quicker numbers—the roughness of his voice was almost distracting on the slower ones (Nettie Moore in particular). The older material in the set (Watchtower, Highway 61, Rainy Day Women, Positively 4th Street) was largely in line with the new direction. I can’t say that I liked the new versions, at least not as much as the originals, but they were at least interesting (even if I had trouble figuring out what song was playing until it was almost half-over). A possible exception was the version of Like a Rolling Stone that closed out the night. The song has been slowed down, such that it sounds almost like a ballad, but Dylan has rephrased the vocal lines in such a way that the words come out in sharp bursts, oftentimes out of synch with the original melody line. This maneuver had the practical advantage of avoiding the sustained notes that plagued him during the other slow numbers, but also produced an added dimension to the song. The mocking quality of the original is still there, but it has been softened by time—the accusations and recriminations delivered with a knowing wink, as though Dylan is well aware that time is passing him by as well.

Pre-History of a Commonplace #1: The Trombone Glissando

From a description of Ravel's Rapsodie espagnole--

In the penultimate bar, in the midst of a quick rush of sound across the entire orchestra, the trombones make a gloriously rude noise-- a glissando, a slide from one note to another. This effect was first popularized by Arthur Pryor, the virtuoso slide trombonist in John Philip Sousa's band, who featured it in such numbers as 'Coon Band Contest' (1900) and 'Trombone Sneeze' (1902). As it happens, the Soussa band toured all over Europe in 1900 and 1901, just before glissando effects spread through classical composition. Schoenberg and his brother-in-law Zemlinsky were the first to notate true trombone glissandos in orchestral works, in their symphonic poems Pelleas und Melisande and Die Seejungfrau, both from 1902-3.

-Alex Ross, The Rest is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century, 2007