In May of 1966, Bob Dylan stands on an Irish stage for the first time, giving the audience songs they may not want to hear.

There will be slow derisory handclapping and increasing catcalls – although the booing and walkouts and first shouts of “Judas!” are still a few days away.

The opening half, played solo and acoustic, is reasonably well received, even if gone are the soft ballads and protest songs, Dylan’s lyrics now the pure streams of consciousness of his Desolation Row and Visions Of Johanna.

At age 24, dressed in a mod-cut suit and pointed boots, the ghost of electricity howling in the bones of his face, something is happening here.

The Adelphi Cinema on Abbey Street has already hosted The Beatles and The Rolling Stones in previous years, but it’s not ready to hear this.

Not at this high volume. When Dylan returns for the second half with his five-piece backing band known as The Hawks, a black Fender Telecaster strapped over his shoulder, all hell breaks loose.

“The Night Of The Big Letdown” ran the headline in the Evening Herald, which concluded that Dylan’s show was “brutal”. He moves on to the ABC Theatre in Belfast the following night, and by the time he reaches the Manchester Free Trade Hall a week later most of the audience has heard enough.

[ Bob Dylan, the rebellious troubadour, film star, icon and enigma: A guide to the movies’ true shapeshift