Bob Dylan in Saginaw, 2026: My 100th Show!

Even the message board signs are missing a few letters around here. Whole town seems like it needs a new coat of paint and a couple of consonants. As we rolled into town, a skunk was running past the Welcome to Saginaw sign. The locals told us “it’s kind of crusty here,” but we found out it was the good kind of crust. We often say the best shows are in the most unlikely places.

This held true tonight. My 100th show was an absolute banger. I got to meet up with my Wales road buddy Graham and my longtime partner in crime Michael Glover Smith. I got to ride in an Uber with a guy talking about Alice Cooper and then step into a “Mar ini Bar” where more people were talking about Alice Cooper. I heard tales of Question Mark, the Saginaw-based garage rock icon (“96 Tears”) wandering around the theater tonight telling people he died on the Titanic in a previous life (he met with Bob after the show). I’m just saying: all the pieces were in place.

Once again Anton Fig kicked off the show with a drum beat, Tony joined on bass, and soon Bob was aboard in his white hoodie, wailing a “To Be Alone With You” worthy of a Question Mark and the Mysterians garage-rock single. In Grand Rapids, I felt this was a high-octane opener to a generally laid-back show, but tonight this simply wasn’t the case. The crowd was very responsive; Bob took note of the people dancing up front and fed off their energy. I could see it from the balcony. I couldn’t sit still, even though the woman behind me said that my head-nodding was giving her an anxiety attack. Now, I’ve been bugged by people standing and blocking my view in the past, I admit. Usually I’m on the “sitting” side of the sit-vs-stand debate. But I think it’s a fact that Bob likes to see people up and responding, and tonight that was clear. As they say to rock and roll crowds: “You drive us wild, we’ll drive you crazy.” The crowd tonight was destined to drive Dylan wild, and he in turn drove us crazy.

An opening lyric flub in “Man in the Long Black Coat” marked the single flaw in the show. In the past few shows, the house lights have first come down right after he sings the title for the first time.

One thing I’ve noted is that, without “My Own Version of You,” there hadn’t been a song that seemed to tell me a different story each night, but now there is: “All Along the Watchtower.” Back home in the three spot, tonight the joker sounded furious, and the thief seemed conspiratorial, like he was assuring him that they were about to change their fates. Like they were staging a raid, sneaking into the palace while all the women come and go and the princes keep the view. I thought it would surely be the highlight.

It was during “Black Rider” that I noticed how creative he was getting with the vocals. Last night I’d noticed he was singing the “cock” line in a way I hadn’t heard before. Tonight he was singing almost every line in a way I hadn’t heard before. The overall effect was conversational, like the speaker was giving the Black Rider a friendly (but firm) warning.

From then on, it seemed like every line was a fresh delivery. The energy behind the singing was several notches above my first two shows. On “Love Sick,” he locked into an absolute groove, throwing in an “I said” before lines and just riding on the rhythm. “Jimmy Reed” rocked as hard as I ever saw it rock (and often it has not rocked) and even ended with a rare mid-show “thank you!”

“When I Paint My Masterpiece” deserves particular mention (with “mean and hungry look” back; in Iowa City it was the original line about “wasting time”). The harp solo whipped up the audience—the response when he began was huge, and as he progressed it became thunderous. The descending line he found for the last lines had to be heard to be believed.

It’s genuinely hard to find the highlights. I mean, I couldn’t wait to hear how he did every upcoming line. “Forgetful Heart” vocals went from being stretched into feeling like “one more cup of coffee” cantillation. “Nervous Breakdown” rocked so hard you could almost imagine it was 1966. I would have sworn it was electric with my eyes closed. Bob was all smiles and clapped for the audience a bit at the end.

I’ll be honest, I expected to make fun of Saginaw a bit. But it turns out that, in addition to the Mar ini Bar, Saginaw has a place with wood panels and plaid carpet and a Duck Hunt mural outside and for some reason there are kids there. I had a good reuben in two places, and one of them sent us our waters on a little elevator. And, like so many towns, I never would have experienced it if there wasn’t a Dylan tour to follow. At the edge of the balcony the sound sucked, but through the muck came the kind of show you hope to see when you attend show after show. A great one for number 100.

Ben (baseball hat), Graham (fedora), Me (glasses), Liz (laughing) Brain the Maine Man (beard) and our new friends from Saginaw at the plaid palace.