Dylan is about half way through his set right now. When I left he hadn't said a word yet to the crowd. Not hello. Not hey. Not how ya doin', Baltimore? Nothing. And you know what? I kinda like it. He's here to play music, not chit chat with us about the weather. He's wearing a black suit with a yellow shirt and a flat-brimmed black hat. He looks Amish. I'm not saying that's a good or a bad thing. I'm just saying.
Before I left he'd only played two classics, Rainy Day Women and It Ain't Me Babe. Time has not been kind to his voice. Never really his strong suit, his once nasal twang has degenerated to a gravelly croak. It's less noticeable on the newer material, but jarring on the old hits—probably because we're just more used to hearing them with his old voice. Dylan is notorius for always having good backing bands. Hell, one of his first backing bands actually became The Band! This five-piece ensemble seems no expception, ably switching between banjo, guitar, upright, and electric bass. Dylan himself, is playing keyboards and harmonica, the latter of which earns a big cheer from the crowd each time pulls it out.