Bob Dylan: A Rainy Night in Leeds (Nov 14, 2025)

“I remember it rained all day the day that Elvis Presley died. And only a legend can make it do that.” -Tom Waits

“But they don’t have to die to do it; they can just finally roll into town after 63 years.” -me

It happens every time: I go to a city that people in England rip on, and I love it. My knowledge of Leeds consisted mainly of TV characters being aghast at the idea of living there, and the live album by The Who. I only just learned that Dylan had never been “Live at Leeds” himself; it was the largest UK city he’d never played.

It may be that saying you’ve seen Leeds when you spent your whole time in the city centre is like going to Times Square and saying you’ve seen New York, but the city centre was great. It was like a mall, mostly, only with great old architecture and arcades everywhere, and besides just the regular mall shops (which it had all of), there are also numerous pubs, vintage shops, record stores, and the occasional graveyard, which our malls never seem to have. It was the biggest, and by far the best, mall I’ve ever been to, and as a child of 80s and 90s American mall culture that’s a big admission.

But it was one of those outdoor malls, and it was raining all day and all of the night. My shoes were taking in water within a few blocks of the train, and I had to pick up some new rain boots from Doctor Marten, which seemed just the sort of place to shop in Leeds. I had two meat pies at Pieminster, the official pie maker of Leeds United, and became a supporter of that team at once simply because they have an official pie maker. Also I see they’re just above last place at the moment, which makes them exactly my kind of squad.

Pre-show I met up with Dr Nathan and fellow chemist Yuliya, plus Dr Nathan’s dylan-skeptical uni roommate, who was fortifying himself for the show with a great deal of Leeds’ finest alcohol. We talked about the situation in the states, and they joked that when Nathan made a planned move to New Mexico he could probably just walk into a shop and say “One gun, please.” They laughed, but it was almost certainly true.

The arena was a large one, with sparkling clean toilets that still smelled abominable, and echoey acoustics that would make the drums sound out of time now and then. Dylan came on for an extended guitar jam (not bad, really) on “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight” with strong vocals.  The vocals would be strong all night, and “False Prophet” was supported by particularly wicked lead guitar. It brought the night’s first standing ovation.

There was a spooky “Black Rider” with the new steel guitar used to great effect (but still pretty low in the mix), and a remarkably non-threatening “My Own Version of You.” Tonight it called to mind a traveling huckster making his pitch, rolling into town and convincing a room full of people to fund his creation. They’d listen with great interest at first as he built himself up, then begin to suspect he was mad, then be certain he was, then give him the money anyway.  A relaxed “To Be Alone With You” seemed breezy, like the huckster had gotten the money and was safely on the train out of town before they could realize they’d been swindled.

“Alone With You” was the fourth guitar song of the night, and the guitar was all above average tonight. The bridge was different again:

Baby the night time is the right time

To hold it in your arms

Right down in the (border line?)

A world in your charms

The show had been, to my ears, somewhere between Swansea and Coventry in terms of quality, but “Crossing the Rubicon” marked something of a turning point; it was a killer tonight.  “Desolation Row” seemed a bit experimental tonight; Bob Britt was working out a steel guitar part, and Dylan seemed to be causally experimenting with the delivery, looking for a new melody without veering too far from how he’s been doing it. I feel like we’re about two shows from a radical, awesome new version - the kind of prediction I make now and then, never successfully.

“Watching the River Flow,” with Dylan on guitar for the intro and Bob Britt adding some steel, merits notice for its stronger-than-average vocals and great harp and guitar interplay in the end

“It’s All Over Now Baby Blue” was stunning tonight, with an achingly gorgeous harp solo. I never wanted it to end. Afterwards I even shouted out “Again!” which I’m not sure I’ve ever shouted. Of course, rather than honoring my request to play it again, he played an equally captivating “I’ve Made Up My Mind to Give Myself To You.”

“Mother of Muses” had some of the martial drums back towards the end, and kept up the run of absolutely magnificent ballads. Really, I can’t think of many times I saw three straight songs put me through such an emotional ringer. I might rank the show a bit below Coventry overall, but this three song block was beyond compare.

“Jimmy Reed” was once again danceable, with the nightly variable line coming in as “I’m fooling you, but what’s the use?”

“Every Grain of Sand” isn’t one where he normally gets too inventive, but the third verse got downright interesting, nearly spoken, with alternating syllables emphasized like someone demonstrating iambic pentameter using something that wasn’t quite written in it: “In the BITter DANCE of LONEliness FAding into space, in the BROken MIRror or INNocence…”. This kept up for the whole verse, Tony was clearly delighted by it, grinning from ear to ear at his bass as the show drew to close.

Is Bob as good as he ever was? Well, not on guitar, perhaps. But he’s as daring, as inventive, as bold, and as uncompromising as he ever was, which is what made him such a compelling performer all along.

It was still raining when Nathan, Yuliya, Marielle and I made it to Grind House, a bar that blasted music while projecting Robocop movies on the screen. The bartender cheerfully put on Dylan’s greatest hits and we sang along so loudly that my throat is sore on the train to Scotland this morning. Like all the best nights, it ended after closing time with us forming a band and eating Wendy’s jacket potatoes in the hotel. I like Leeds. Go United!

Above: the new drunken singalong band Rainy Night in Leeds, formed by Adam, Nathan, and Marielle of 90s britpop band The Rough and Roady Outlaws, plus Yuliya, who does not sing.