Flop Eared Mule A Country Music Death Beast and Worker in the Dylan Industrial Complex | Sydney, Australia | Est. 2004

I can't add much to my ramblings about the Sydney show. Bowral was a bit different in being a semi-festival event and outdoors, it's a bit without the environmental intensity of even a barn like the SEC. There's more to distract you, a bit of rain, sundry insects, the darkening skies, the people around you sitting crossed-armed the whole time without even clapping who you suspect are there because they are southern highland worthies and this is An Event To Be At (there was some dancing from this quarter towards the end but that may have just been the chards kicking in. OR THE POWER OF LEONARD. YOU DECIDE.) But we were in the second row centre this time so any hothouse atmosphere which fizzled off into the eucalypts was more than made up for with the golden halo of PROXIMITY to the authentic object which is the dragon I keep desperately chasing. (that is a really terrible sentence, but conveys ultimate truthiness and do I look like a poet?)

All those things I loved about the Sydney gig, I loved doubly seeing up close. It was magic to get "Sisters of Mercy" for the first time. And I enjoyed "Closing Time", I think it and "Anthem" (from the same record, The Future) have really benefitted from being liberated in the live form. Pavlov's Cat spoke beautifully about "The Partisan" in her notes, and I should single it out too. He is playing the guitar for it, so that's the functional reason he is standing straight up at the mike rather than galloping around like a 10 year old Romanian gymnast like he does on most of the other songs. But form follows function (or the other way round ...?), and his suddenly grave and dedicated bearing, looking steadily straight ahead, or upwards a little but either way into the past/future transports you to the world of the song. Seconds before the suit and hat was that of a rakish ladies man, whose pick up line is "oh won't you let me see your naked body?" And then instantly he's the partisan, in a black and white reel. The lighting was great in the shows, evocative but not obtrusive and I think it did a particularly superb job on the emotion here.

I did joke in the car back though that The Partisan himself may not have worn a bolo tie, unless he was liberating Albuquerque. I love that tie. He didn't do "Memories" of course -- the song the naked body line is from -- but how cool would it have been if he had? IMHO, très.

(UPDATE: Just found awesome and awesomely weird live "Memories" on YouTube. That's Sharon Robinson on backup who is still doing an amazing job today. Or maybe you prefer a drunk version with lots of hawt young Len pics in slideshow? Got you covered too.)

I did get teary when at the end he said "thank you for keeping my songs alive all these years." I don't believe he said it in Sydney, although the patter is substantially the same, and I know he says it to everyone but still ... *sniff.* That bit and the rest of the beautiful 'Wither Thou Goest" ending to the show is recorded here. Thanks Irene for taking the footage. Shivers.

True nerds might like to know he did the "Thousand Kisses Deep" recitation after "Democracy". I've only ever seen it in the setlists after "I'm Your Man", we did give him a standing O after that one though so maybe he decided to go straight into a song rather than wait for the tumult to die down enough to bless us with his verse.

I did a quick vid of "Dance Me to the End of Love", only 2 mins because I wanted a personal keepsake but didn't want to be fussing with the camera long. Excuse the wobbliyness, it is merely my raging hormones causing my hands to shake uncontrollably. And excuse my, um, "singing." I put it on YouTube but the image quality is better viewed at my MobileMe gallery.

They were all rapturously received again. We were in the "gold class' sealed off area at the front but I was pleased to see enterprising General Admission folks get up about as close as us, just on the other side of the fence as it tapered towards the stage. Lots of them had Len shirts and knew the words. And the security dudes handed Len a couple of love notes from them ... I don't think security are supposed to do that? But still, I like to see chutzpah like that pay off. I'm a cheap seats type at heart, just masquerading for a night with the pukka ladies in the pashminas, and their excitable presence added to the atmosphere up front so bravo! sneaky general admission people.

It is over (for me), which is sad. But who can be sad after being a part of this. "Forget your perfect offering" is truly profound advice, but this was a perfect offering and I won't forget it.

Some random artlessly taken and artlessly edited pics, starting with the view of the crowd from my spot.