THE WALLFLOWERS RETURN TO THE KESWICK

“Okay, once again, Pennsylvania - how are you? What’s that? Oh, well we love you, too. We came a long way to see you.”  

Watching him field heartfelt declarations of affection whenever his hand wasn’t dancing along the fretboard of his Telecaster guitar, it suddenly hit me: Jakob Dylan may be one of the last rock stars the world will ever see - or at least in the way we previously knew them. Back before the internet fundamentally transformed the music industry from the inside out, The Wallflowers exploded when that meant heavy rotation on MTV and radio, a deluge of albums sold in a brick and mortar store, and fans who struggled to stay awake to see their favorite band on late night TV, the very idea of watching a television performance on the phone you keep in your pocket, whenever you want, still lightyears away from not sounding absolutely absurd. It was a different time, but then he was always a different kind of rock star, too. Eager to dispel the myth, the music videos for “Sleepwalker” and “Letters From The Wasteland” from Breach, the record that followed the massively popular Bringing Down The Horse, found him calling out the silliness of a self serious celebrity culture and comically retracing the more monotonous and boring aspects of touring. Subsequent releases further illustrated a complete disinterest in the artifice others in the same position were happy to cultivate. It seemed, even then, that his only aim was to make something that might last. Nearly thirty years later, in a dark theater about an hour’s drive from Center City Philadelphia, it was clear that he did.    

Hoisting his guitar over his head to the sound of rowdy, rapturous applause, Dylan took his place amongst the band, the latest iteration of which includes Mark Stepro, Wijnand “Whynot” Jansveld, Stanton Edward Adcock, Ben Peeler and Aaron Embry. What followed was a set guided by the earnest chemistry between artist and audience, as well as the closeness between the musicians themselves. “Don’t I have the best job in the entire world?” he asked during a break in “I’ve Been Delivered,” though it was definitely less of a question and more of an observation. “I get to travel around,” he continued. “And see you guys with my best friends, who are really good players.” Such unforced moments of sincerity only lent themselves to an atmosphere that was relaxed, informal and direct, filling the room with a genuine sense of connection that matched the larger than life melodies of a revered recording career. Although perhaps most fitting was that it was all achieved with nothing but the instruments that bore them. With no spectacle or pretense, “Hand Me Down,” “I’ll Let You Down (But Will Not Give You Up),” “God Don’t Make Lonely Girls,” “Roots and Wings,” “Everything I Need,” “I Hear The Ocean (When I Wanna Hear Trains)” and more, spilled forth from the soft glow of the Keswick Theater’s stage, radiating an energy that was at once driving and profound. That mixture of originality and control was a strictly gleaming presence - a crucial element on the latest Wallflowers release, 2021’s acclaimed Exit Wounds - and a touchstone of sorts ever since “6th Avenue Heartache” first introduced him to the masses. And though he once famously sang that “nothing is forever,” hearing the words from “One Headlight” sung back to him, all these years later, seemed to prove that’s not always the case.

Words + Images by Caitlin Phillips
08.25.22