November 2025 Round Up

“No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.”

As the photo above shows, we’ve had our first dusting of snow. It seems a bit early, and I hope it’s not a portent of a tough winter to come. Thankfully it cleared within a day but the low temperatures have taken a bit longer to shift.

(Don’t fret about the teddydog above. I walked past today and he was gone, so either someone has retrieved him or he’s sitting in front of a fire in a local hostelry nursing a hot whiskey, if he has any sense).

Books

A nice variety of books these past few weeks. Pico Iyer as ever makes the perfect travel companion in ‘The Half Known Life’ as he visits places scarred by conflict but previously imagined to have been paradise, full of his own personal and philosophical insights.

Not much in the way of paradise but plenty of conflict, mostly involving Francis Begbie, in ‘Men in Love’ by Irvine Welsh, the sequel to trainspotting. Thoroughly enjoyed this, at times not for the faint of heart but I found it hard to put down, with plenty of laughs in it as well, a rarity in books these days.

Collision with the Infinite by Suzanne Segal is a memoir about someone disappearing, namely the author herself. I found this to be a raw and revealing read, harrowing at times, as the author loses her sense of ‘I’ whilst standing at a bus stop in Paris and spends years trying to work out what happened.

Certainly a lot of talk about The Names by Florence Knapp, which follows three lives /timelines over the space of 35 years. Not so much about how a persons name defines them, rather how the abusive husbands reactions to the choices shaped the lives of his family. Darker than I expected, and though I liked it well enough it didn’t blow me away either.

Movies

Took MUBI up on their offer of a free subscription for a month and so far so good. Saw there were a couple of movies I wanted to see so it seemed worth it.

First up was a Belgian film called ‘Close’ by Lukas Dhont, about two thirteen year old boys called Léo and Rémi, who have a incredibly close friendship. It reminded me of my own summers, and how you’d become inseparable from some of your friends, spending every waking momment of your school holidays together.

The friendship is beautifully depicted, but very fragile, and suddenly a crack appears. The two boys themselves don’t quite have the words to understand whats happening, and it becomes a heartbreaker of a movie. Took me a while to get over this one.

There’s a trend here, as my next watch was ‘Eight mountains’ by Felix van Groeningen & Charlotte Vandermeersch (also Belgian) about male friendship, this time about Pietro and Bruno, who form a relationship high in the Alpine mountains. Years pass, they grow up, disconnect, reconnect again. Everything changes, nothing does.

Like the movie before it, it’s also about tenderness and masculinity, this time adulthood hardening that childhood innocence. It’s also about the desctructive beauty of solitude (the mountains are also another character) that really resonated with me, and that desire for longing that’s hard to admit to, as a bloke. Another one that cracked me open a wee bit, but I sometimes need that.

Two wonderful movies, but I think my absolute favourite recently was Wim Wenders ‘Perfect days’, about Hirayama, a Japanese man who cleans toilets in Tokyo for a living. His is a life of routine, which he moves through quietly, barely sending out a ripple around him.

But he finds beauty in his simple, and strives for precision in his work - and turns it into grace. In the film, during one of the rare momments he speaks, he says,

‘Next time is next time. And now is now’.

There are momments when he just experiences sunlight in the trees, and finds beauty and transcendance. And he’s solitary, yes - but his solitude isn’t despair - it’s presence. He carries both grief and beauty at the same time.

Oh my, that last scene landed hard, it shook me in all the right ways. Surrender and acceptance, everything all at once.

Bob Dylan

It seems like an age ago that I managed to grab two tickets for one of Dylans waterfront shows, both of which sold out in five minutes. In the end it swung round quick enough, so it was off to Belfast for me and my companion for the evening (my cough 27th Bob gig, her 2nd).

Probably not a surprise that it sold out - he hasn’t played Belfast in over 20 years, but still not bad for someone nearly 85 years old. The recent film ‘A complete unknown’ which I reviewed here has certainly helped his popularity with a younger crowd, who were in attendance. Nice to see a new generation discovering him.

It’s been a while since I was at a gig in the Waterfront. I’ve been wrecking my brains thinking of the last one (it’s been over twenty years since I lived in Belfast) but I can’t think of any apart from seeing Phillip Glass perform Koyaanisqatsi with the Ulster Orchestra (I think) back in the late nineties - with the film been shown in the background, an absolutely stunning show.

The Waterfront itself is a lovely venue, situated along the River Lagan in Belfast. It holds around 2250 people, so a lovely crowd for a gig. Great acoustics as well, and one of the best venues I’ve ever seen Bob in. Here’s a couple of photos of the Waterfront.

No photos of the Bob gig, because as you enter you put your phone into a wallet, which is locked, and which you keep with you and can only be opened by staff after the gig. I think this is such a great idea - you don’t have to watch the gig through the phone of the person in front of you. What I also enjoyed was that there was no constant stream of beer zombies asking you to move as they got up to go to the bar, coming back, asking you to move as they get up to go to the toilet: ad infinitum.

The last time I saw Bob was at the point in Dublin a couple of years ago, and the constant stream of people walking about, like ants, was at times a total distraction. This was a much better venue to see Bob in and we completely lucked out with our seats - front of the balcony to the right of the stage, looking straight at Bob behind the piano. Best seats I’ve ever had at a Dylan gig.

As usual, he and the band came out at 7:59 so the gig would start right on time with ‘I’ll be your baby tonight’. Most of the time he stayed on the piano, only lifting the guitar to play the intro to ‘Watching the River flow’ and ‘To be alone with you’. The setlist doesn’t change these days - you get eight songs from the recentish ‘Rough and Rowdy Ways’ album, the others from the rest of his career.

The R&RW songs suit his voice - a bluesy drawl, and the tight band, a four piece, accompany him well. On a couple of songs he sounded incredibly clear - Desolation Row was as well as I’ve heard him in a while, and Key West, one of my recent favourites, also sounded particularly good.

He’s never been a jukebox, and the days of him belting out ‘like a rolling stone’ or ‘watchtower’ are long gone. The setlist is static, picked to suit his range, but you still get classics such as the above mentioned as well as ‘It ain’t me babe’, ‘it’s all over now baby blue’ and ‘When I paint my masterpiece.’

Such a good crowd, very appreciative and as mentioned earlier, total respect for the performer and the songs. He certainly seemed energised by the reception given and really seemed to be enjoying himself.

As I mentioned, 27th time for me seeing Dylan, and I got a little teary during ‘Every grain of sand’ as I knew it to be the last song of the evening. I’ve had some fantastic times following Dylan and his songwriting genius has been a huge part of my life. Maybe this will be the last time I get to sit in a room and hear him. Who knows, but it’s sure been a ride.

But what was this? After a rapturous crowd give him a standing ovation, rather than leave the stage, as he had done on every other night of this tour…he returned to the piano. This caught both the bassist and drummer by surprise, already leaving the stage and having to scramble back to their instruments.

It was a driving blues song - I recognised references to Napoleans nose (the rocky outcrop on Cave Hill, which overlooks Belfast) and the chorus where he was driving to Bangor, up the coast. (Who thought there’d be such satisfaction in hearing bob drawl ‘Donaghadee’. As he was singing it, I thought there could only be one composer, and indeed I later discovered this was a Van Morrison song (a rare recent one from 2016). What a wonderful way to tip his hat to the East Belfast cowboy, and a cracking end to a gig.

The only encore he’s played on this tour to my knowledge, and I’ve said it before it and will happily repeat it - Irish audiences are the greatest audiences, and the best Bob shows I’ve seen have been in Ireland. He get’s us, we get him. On a side note, how lovely that nobody was able to capture this on camera - this was just for those who were present.

Everyone drifted happily out into the evening, where a busker and a crowd joined a singalong of ‘Mr Tambourine man’. Just a wondeful evening and joins the list as one of my favourite bob gigs.

Music

I usually finish with a music video, but I honestly don’t know where to end this month. There’s Bob or Van, but they’re too obvious. It would be easy to go for a jazz track, been a lot of those. Spiritual Jazz such as Alice Coltrane and Pharoah Sanders have been getting a lot of airplay.

But this one seems apt, from the wonderful Lisa O’Neill, who writes

"I've loved this song since I first heard Berth Jansch's unique recording of it. I later found it's greater depth in learning more about the writer and poet Christina Rossetti, who published it under the title ‘A Christmas Carol' in January 1872. Not unlike Mother Jones, Christina - a woman conflicted with her own personal griefs - put her heart and energy into those who struggled on the margins of society. When I sing this song, I think about the abundance of compassion and love we have within us even when we feel we have nothing to give. In the bleakest of circumstances, love is a beacon.”

Until next time, may you be happy, may you be well, may you be free from suffering.