He's still angry after all these years.

Just in case anyone in the audience thought that Bob Dylan might be mellowing in old age, Wednesday night the raggedy man of rock decisively laid those fears to rest. Singing before an odd mix of ties and tie-dyes at the Boston Opera House, Dylan stormed through a hard-edged set that emphasized his independence and uncompromising nature. His band was tight, his guitar sounded terrific, and he even threw in a large chunk of the old songs that made him famous. If this seems like a good recipe for a concert, it was. Sort of.

Bob Dylan in concert

At the Boston Opera House

Wednesday night

The problem with Wednesday's show was that Dylan demonstrated too much aggressiveness, emphasizing harsh riffs and a "to-hell-with-you" attitude in nearly every song. When he sang "It Ain't Me Babe," he spat out every word, chopping his verses in such a manner as to confound any attempt by the audience to sing along. In last night's rendition, the chorus of "I Shall Be Released" became a defiant cry rather than a moving affirmation, and Dylan's spitfire version of "Maggie's Farm" emphasized driving anger rather than Iyric comprehension. In other words, you knew he was mad but couldn't understand what he was saying, Only once in the hour-and-a-half long set did Dylan shed his rough edges, for the graceful acoustic ballad "Most of the Time," as he sang,"I don't even cry/ I don't compromise/ Most of the time."

There were moments where Dylan's aggressive independence paid off and his performance shone. A rousing version of "Like a Rolling Stone" brought the crowd of 1000 to their feet, and Dylan growled his way through "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" in a winning manner. After a few opening songs in which he looked restrained, the energy level never flagged, and, as always, Dylan looked gratifyingly scruffy with his black leather and tangled hair. He spent a little too long proving that he could be uncompromising, but the talent was there, and it's the mark of a truly great performer that he can spend the night ignoring his audience and still have them adore him.

By contrast, the opening act spent its 40-minute set proving that it should have stayed in Texas. Jason and the Scorchers played a number of painfully bad songs, all in the same chord, and the group left the audience numb with fear. This garbage band did its best to sound like outlaws of rock 'n' roll, but despite lead singer Jason's 10 gallon hat, The Scorchers more resembled Megadeath than Tom Petty. But their set wasn't a total loss; the guitarist had some mean tattoos.