This is a smart, heartfelt hour that does more than run through the hits. It asks what we hear when we really listen to Dylan, and why those songs still matter. The show is not about nostalgia — the big issues Dylan sang about are still tragically with us. Racism, war, and social injustice remain as urgent as ever, and the performance never lets you forget that. A clever use of a video screen mixes images from the past and present, reinforcing how the struggles of the 1960s and 1970s continue to echo in our own time.
What surprised me first was the front-person: Kiah, just 18, walking on alone with a guitar and two compact openers. Not a gimmick — a statement of intent. The voice is the draw: clear, expressive, with a warm grain that can swell into power without ever turning harsh. She has presence, too: relaxed, alert to the room, and unafraid to sit in the quiet. Then the Night Owl band join her and the show blooms — rhythm kicks in, the arrangements breathe, and we move from fireside intimacy to rolling folk-rock with purpose. It’s a neat dramatic arc that mirrors Dylan’s own journey from solo troubadour to electric icon.
Night Owl’s concept is part concert, part guided tour. The set pivots through eras and influences, giving you context without drowning the songs. Familiar titles land with fresh edges — “Blowin’ in the Wind,” “Don’t Think Twice,” “Like a Rolling Stone” — but the point isn’t museum-piece reverence. The band’s reimagined approach keeps faith with the spirit while letting new colours in; it’s storytelling through arrangement, and it works because Kiah sings like she believes every line. Dylan himself once said, when asked why he didn’t do his own songs more back in the day, that he liked to think he made them his own. Kiah certainly makes Dylan’s songs her own.
Kiah’s age becomes an asset rather than an obstacle. There’s a lightness in how she frames the material — a wink here, a plain-spoken aside there — that sidesteps piety and finds the thread between 1960s protest, later self-invention, and now. Opening alone, then inviting the band in, makes the history legible without a lecture. By the time the fuller sound is roaring, you feel the continuity: how one voice with a guitar grew into a catalogue that could arm a whole room. The result is a show that’s accessible to casual listeners and rewarding for die-hards — the kind that leaves you humming the chorus but also thinking about the words.
As for the practicalities: this is the Night Owl machine in full swing — tight band, clean transitions, and a house style that’s won them loyal audiences across their Fringe slate. If you’ve seen their Carole King/James Taylor or Elton John offerings, you’ll recognise the craft; if not, this is a fine place to start. And yes, it really is Kiah Spurle leading the charge — she looks set to be one of the quiet success stories of this year’s music strand.
Bottom line: a genuinely thoughtful Dylan show with heart and muscle. Kiah’s voice is beautiful — bright, powerful, and emotionally tuned — and the band lift her without ever crowding her. I went in curious; I left convinced.
Reviewed by Pat Harrington
More information and tickets here
ALEX D NOBLE said
Certainly strange when I jokedly said to my partner what happens if on came a woman to sing Bod Dylan’s songs, and sure enough it was. Good at acoustic slow songs, but hard to follow the lyrics in the more up beat songs, like see shouting down the microphone. But my partner said the same, but being 18 good on trying her best, and the historic story on Bob Dylan
Grainne said
Thank you for perfectly articulating what I experienced when I saw this show on 9th August. Kiah Spurle, Night Owl, and the visual presentation of Bob Dylan’s work in one hour were stunning. The song choices from his vast catalogue were exceptional including Hurricane. I arrived in Edinburgh to see Oasis on the 8th and was so lucky to catch this and three other great Fringe music events as well on one overnight visit from Dublin, Ireland.