It’s a Saturday night on the campus of Brandeis University, and the folk and protest movements are in full swing. On stage, the Prince of Protest is holding court through two sets for an appreciative folk festival audience that has paid $3.98 apiece to hear the world’s most original singer and songwriter. This long-lost relic documents the then-21-year-old Dylan at the height of his solo acoustic powers. It’s two weeks before the release of his breakthrough Freewheelin’ album. He delivers riveting renditions of scorching social commentary (“Masters of War,” “The Ballad of Hollis Brown”), plays the fool (“Talking Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues”), and bares his sensitive side (“Bob Dylan’s Dream”). It’s a commanding performance, even on a seven-track recording that fades into the opening track (“Honey Just Allow Me One More Chance”), cuts off the announcer between sets, and finds Dylan, apparently inebriated during the second set, slurring his speech. By the end of the year, Dylan already had grown tired of his role as a leader of the protest movement, staging his own character assassination in front of the National Emergency Civil Liberties Committee and preparing to show the public Another Side of Bob Dylan. But, for now, he stood in the spotlight, unperturbed and unapologetic.