Dylan keeps it lean at Aladdin

Spencer Patterson

Monday, March 21, 2005 | 8:17 a.m.

Standing at an upright piano at stage left, Bob Dylan allowed fans to see only his right profile throughout Saturday's show at the Aladdin Theatre for the Performing Arts.

The limited vantage point was strangely fitting on a night when the folk-rock icon also presented a frustratingly narrow sliver of his considerable musical prowess.

Taking the stage after 9 p.m., the 63-year-old Dylan performed a main set that featured only 12 songs and lasted just 75 minutes.

He later returned for a two-song encore, sending the sold-out crowd of 5,500 (the venue did not offer tickets in its balcony) home at 10:35 after a concert that felt far too short.

That came as a surprise, considering Dylan has been using a similar 14-song list throughout a 2005 tour that, except for three occasions, has also included a lengthy opening set by country veteran Merle Haggard.

With Haggard absent for the Vegas show, and given ticket prices that ranged from $55 to $125 -- not discounted from the Dylan-Haggard shared bills -- a charitable Dylan could have served up a few extra numbers on Saturday.

More significant than the event's brevity was its narrow scope, a marked contrast from the headliner's freewheeling 2002 appearance at The Joint at the Hard Rock Hotel.

This time, Dylan and his six-piece band stuck to a countrified rock approach, one that veered slightly toward rockabilly at times and down-shifted into loungey ballroom fare at others.

The black-clad, black-hatted Dylan seemed to be enjoying himself, bobbing up and down and treating his brown piano as a dance partner.

His famous voice -- which has experienced a much-needed revival in recent years -- was in fine form, even if it was mixed so loud it often made his band's accompaniment sound like a dim karaoke tape.

Although presented in the jarring, mumblesome way that has been his trademark for more than four decades, Dylan's words were surprisingly easy to make out, allowing even the most casual fan to identify such classics as "Positively 4th Street" and "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right."

Instrumentally, however, Dylan was almost nonexistent. Although he remained parked by his piano all night, looking the audience dead-on only before leaving the stage, it was nearly impossible to discern what, if any, sounds the man was producing with his keys.

And while the crowd roared every time Dylan put his beloved harmonica to his lips, his solos were timid and pedestrian compared to his celebrated work on the instrument.

Now and again, Dylan and his band burned brightly. "It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)" -- presented in a sinister, double-violin arrangement -- was a near-religious experience. "Highway 61 Revisited" provided a glimpse of the group's capabilities in fully rocked-out mode.

But too often, as on relatively recent compositions "Moonlight" and "Shooting Star," Dylan & Co. threatened to put the audience to sleep in the Aladdin's plush seats.

Of course, Dylan's hardcore followers loved every minute, many of them jumping from their chairs and bowing before their hero, regardless of what he played (or didn't) or how he chose to play it.

It's a shame those fans didn't pay more attention to opener Amos Lee, a singer-songwriter who served up an entertaining brand of down-tempo, folky soul as most of the audience chatted away.

Lee is worth keeping an eye on, particularly for fans of mellow rockers such as Ben Harper, Jack Johnson and John Mayer.

As for Dylan, a mythical figure with more cherished tunes in his songbook than virtually anyone else, he remains worth checking out onstage from time to time.

But buyer beware: On any given night Bob Dylan can be spectacular, unexceptional or, as was the case Saturday night, somewhere in-between.