Bob Dylan Summer 2026

Forums:

Dates are starting to trickle out...

JUNE 6 7  Woodinville, WA — Chateau Ste. Michelle Winery

 

July 2 Thrackerville, Ok

 

More to come...

Thanks, fishcane...

Not gonna lie, I had to google where tf Thrackerville is.

He's played there before 

Lucinda Williams and the John Doe Folk Trio are opening the Chateau shows.  Lots of songwriting talent.

Hope for more West Coast dates.

There's almost a month between the Winery show and Thrackerville, so we should catch a few out here. 

Seems like Chateau Ste Michelle is jumping the gun and is announcing shows before some acts list their full tour. DSO is another.

Spring tour opener, all acoustic guitars and smaller piano. 
https://youtu.be/VNM5-Q6k0LM

Orpheum Theater
Omaha, Nebraska
March 21, 2026

I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight
Man in the Long Black Coat
All Along the Watchtower
I Contain Multitudes
False Prophet
Black Rider
Love Sick
Key West (Philosopher Pirate)
I Can Tell
I’ve Made Up My Mind to Give Myself to You
Crossing the Rubicon
When I Paint My Masterpiece
Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right
Soon After Midnight
Nervous Breakdown
Every Grain of Sand

Thanks for posting.  Pre-sale for Woodinville is happening now.  I'll wait for tomorrow's public sale.

Someone on the Dylan FB page said last night in Sioux Falls, SD halfway through the show he backed away from the mic until the encore and no one could hear him. Good ol' Bob.

-- June 2026 --
Thu 4 Troutdale
Sat 6 Woodinville
Sun 7 Woodinville
Tue 9 Eugene
Fri 12 Lincoln
Sat 13 Berkeley
Sun 14 Berkeley
Wed 17 Santa Barbara
Thu 18 Highland
Sat 20 Palm Desert
Sun 21 San Diego
Tue 23 Phoenix

-- July 2026 --
Thu 2 Thackerville
Fri 24 Vienna, VA
Sat 25 Vienna, VA

Those Berkeley shows are at the Greek. Presale this Thursday, Another Planet password is risingsun.

Given the very quiet, esoteric approach to his shows these days that venue is pretty big and I'm sure tix will be pricey, but I would like to see the old dog one more time so I'll probably give it an effort and see if I can get a good seat.

The Santa Barbara show has Lucinda Williams and The John Doe Folk Trio opening.

I think that's the opening acts for the entire west coast leg

That makes for a nice evening. I was wondering if it would just be Bob.

Picked up a couple for Santa Barbara.

3 socal/sd shows, interesting.

for tickets like these I like waiting til right before show time.

Might go to Cuthbert if I can afford it - what are the cheapest ticket prices so far?

I think seats in the top section at the SB Bowl were about $80 plus fees.

Couldn't afford Cuthbert (pre sale code "Kesey"), so got tickets to see John Scofield with Oteil Burbridge, Larry Goldings, and Adam Deitch instead (McDonald Theater Eugene, Nov 5th).  Think lawn tickets for Dylan were around $90 before fees (or 2 tickets for GA Scofield after fees).  

I'm going for the openers, not sure I will sit through Dylan's pretty lame looking set

Was expecting 100 - I might be in.

I will be there.

Long, but wonderful. I don't usually  post entire articles, but this time I am.
 

Will Leitch

24 Apr 2026

You’re read­ing Fan­fare With Will Leitch, a news­let­ter on the cul­tural moments cap­tur­ing Amer­ica’s atten­tion. (Also appeared the Washington Post)

Bob Dylan turns 85 next month. He is older than every liv­ing pres­id­ent. He released nine ori­ginal albums before men walked on the moon. He has been por­trayed on film by Timothée Chalamet, Cate Blanchett and Richard Gere, and was the sub­ject of two Mar­tin Scorsese doc­u­ment­ar­ies. He has become more of a myth than a man; there are a hand­ful of people who, when they die, will make it feel as if the world itself has stopped. Dylan is one of them.

What do you do when you are that per­son? How does an almost 85-yearold Bob Dylan nav­ig­ate his days?

He does what he has always done: He plays. He hits the road. He does not fill massive arenas like the Rolling Stones or Bruce Spring­steen. He has no Eagles-style res­id­ency at Las Vegas’s Sphere. You will not see him in the Super Bowl half­time show. Dylan plays in Dothan, Alabama; in Tyler, Texas; in Shako­pee, Min­nesota. He plays the towns that make up the Amer­ica he has been writ­ing about for nearly 70 years.

You don’t have to be wealthy to see Dylan play. You don’t even have to live in a big city. He will come to you. He just plays his songs.

He played them this week at the Spartan­burg Memorial Aud­it­or­ium in Spartan­burg, South Car­o­lina, which seats 3,200 people. One of the people in those seats was me. I was about 10 rows from the stage, about 40 feet away from Dylan. He wasn’t a myth, he wasn’t an Amer­ican legend, he wasn’t a fig­ure of folk­lore. He was just a man on a stage, doing his thing.

Dylan’s band is sparse, and his show is effi­cient and con­sist­ent: He went onstage at 8 p.m., he played until 9:30, and then he left – no encores, no stage banter, not even much of a pause between songs. When you have played for as long as Dylan has, you’re not much into fuss. You play your songs, you bow to the audi­ence, you drive to another town, and you play them again.

The appeal is Dylan him­self – to be in the same room with him, to watch him still grind­ing away out there, apart from the lore and the legend, as ever just a guy pickin’ and singin’. The set­l­ist draws heav­ily from his most recent stu­dio album, “Rough and Rowdy Ways,” which came out in 2020, so if you’re expect­ing a juke­box set of his greatest hits, you’re going to be dis­ap­poin­ted. (Dylan his­tor­i­ans note that he hasn’t per­formed “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door,” his most pop­u­lar song on Spo­tify, since 2003.) And most not­ably: The set­l­ist gen­er­ally does not change; he played the same songs, in the same order, in Spartan­burg that he played in Ashev­ille, North Car­o­lina, the night before; in Chat­tanooga, Ten­nessee, two nights before that; and in Bowl­ing Green, Ken­tucky, the night before that.

Dylan, at my show, stood behind an elec­tric piano wear­ing a white poncho that made him look like a haunted bee­keeper. The gui­tar­ists on each side of him spent the whole show turned toward him, not the audi­ence, fol­low­ing his lead but also guid­ing him along. The whole thing is just Bob, stand­ing up, sit­ting down, rasp­ing into a couple of micro­phones, occa­sion­ally hit­ting a few keys. It’s just the songs.

But my good­ness, what songs. If you’re a fan (as I am) of “Rough and Rowdy Ways,” it is almost unbear­ably poignant to watch Dylan per­form those songs of loss and fear and death and hope (and occa­sional ref­er­ences to Indi­ana Jones), as well as cata­logue hits like “All Along the Watchtower” and (my favor­ite per­form­ance of the night) “When I Paint My Mas­ter­piece,” which feel chosen spe­cific­ally as reflec­tions on a life glan­cing back­ward but still poin­ted res­ol­utely for­ward. Dylan’s voice is rough, but it has always been rough: The years have just added more gravel, giv­ing him a grav­itas that feels, yeah, mythic. It sounds like he has always been here, since the begin­ning of time, like he’s seen it all but still can’t wait to find out what he’s going to see next. You sit there, look­ing at Bob Dylan, he’s stand­ing right there, and it is as if you’re look­ing at the his­tory of everything.

Dylan’s show is not expli­citly polit­ical in the way Spring­steen’s cur­rent tour is. But his pres­ence is its own state­ment, one of resi­li­ence and art and the simple act of put­ting one foot in front of the other and con­tinu­ing to be the per­son you have always been and provid­ing the world what you, uniquely, can provide.

Because that’s what you do when you’re Bob Dylan: You just go out there and keep play­ing. That is, after all, what you were put here to do. The world shifts, it teeters, it wobbles, it implodes. But you keep mov­ing for­ward. You keep being you. “Everything passes/ Everything changes,” Dylan sings in “To Ramona.” “Just do what you think you should do.” See­ing him out there, play­ing his songs and pack­ing up to go play them some­where else, is down­right inspir­a­tional: There is pur­ity, beauty and truth in the work – in simply show­ing up, night after night.

Someday, Dylan will not be with us. Someday this, like everything else in the world, will pass. I am grate­ful to have had the oppor­tun­ity to see him, right there, in a small aud­it­or­ium just off the cam­pus of Wof­ford Col­lege. I will be able to say I saw Bob Dylan play. You can, too. He’s not far. He never is. And I sus­pect he never really will be.

Paul McCartney Reviews Bob Dylan Live: ‘"I Couldn’t Tell What Song He Was Doing"

https://www.vulture.com/article/paul-mccartney-bob-dylan-live-show.html