How badly did I want to see The Wallflowers in concert Tuesday night? I was two blocks from Thalia Hall when I collided violently with a car door that flew up in front of me. The collision threw me from my bike into the street, leaving me sore and dazed. After a few minutes I contined to the concert.

I had seen this band two years ago in Evanston, but I enjoyed them enough to experience them in a different venue.

Had I skipped the show, I would have missed out on Brother Elsey - an excellent blues rock band from Detroit. Brother will return to Chicago in October and I have already marked my calendar.

Lead singer Jakob Dylan is the son of legendary singer/songwriter Bob Dylan. While not as prolific as his father, the younger Dylan has created an impressive catalog of music, which he showcased on this evening. His band peformed many of the hits from their seven studio albums. Highlights included "6th Avenue Heartache," "One Headlight," from my favourite WF album, "Bringing Down the Horse." and "The Difference," as well as "Roots and Wings" from their most recent album "Exit Wounds." All these songs were penned by Dylan, but he was not afraid to tackle other songwriters' material. Halfway through the concert, they delivered a moving rendition of Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic." And three of his four encore tunes were hits by others, beginning with Cat Stevens's "Wild World," followed by two Tom Petty compositions: "Refugee" and "The Waiting." For those who don't know, Dylan's father partnered with the late Petty in the supergroup The Traveling Wilburys.

One thing Jakob does better than his father is relate to the audience. He actually makes eye contact and engages those across the footlights. He praises them, he thanks them, and he teases them. When someone in the crowd continued shouting while Jakob was talking, the singer stepped back, telling him "I'm sorry. I will wait for my turn to talk." He even identified the shouter as "guy in the white shirt," which drew laughter from the crowd and cheers from white-shirt-guy and his buddies.

I am writing this still sore Wednesday morning as I write this.