I pity the fans — and I’m one myself, a lifelong, card-carrying, 1960s survivor variety — who expected a peak, interactive concert experience with their idol on July 3 at the Dillon Amphitheater.

I knew better, having been to a Dylan concert many years ago where the bard had his back to the audience for the entire concert. I knew what to expect or, rather, what not to expect, which is why I opted to take in a few tunes from the sidewalk this time around.

Forget traditional concert banter. No friendly “Hello folks,” “Thanks for coming out” or “This next song is one I wrote when blah, blah, blah.”

Nope. Bob does whatever the hell he wants to, the audience be damned.

He’s the quintessential eccentric and that’s what makes him so completely unique and so completely annoying. He really doesn’t give a damn about what we think of his music. Never has.

I remember the first big Dylan controversy in 1965 when he decided to go electric — electric guitar instead of an acoustic guitar. Oh, the horrors! The outcry! He was betraying his folk music roots!

Well, he didn’t give a flying one then and has continued to experiment throughout the subsequent 57 years (he’s 81 this year) with all manner of musical genres and hybrids: “Nashville Skyline” to “Christmas in the Heart.” (Oy vey, say it isn’t so Bobby!)

The guy has a darn Nobel Prize, Grammys and the like up the gazooch, the Presidential Medal of Honor, etc. He’s written over 600 songs, released well over 50 albums and in 2020 sold his songwriting catalog rights for somewhere in the $300 million neighborhood (Pretty ritzy neighborhood).

So I guess he has earned his eccentricity and I say, more power to him.