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BRUCE'S SPEECH AT THE NEW JERSEY HALL OF FAME
Bruce Springsteen was inducted into the New Jersey Hall of Fame on May 4. Here's a transcript of his speech: When I first got the letter I was to be inducted into the New Jersey Hall of Fame I was a little suspicious. New Jersey Hall of Fame? Does New York have a hall of fame? Does Connecticut have a hall of fame? I mean, maybe they don't think they need one. But then I ran through the list of names: Albert Einstein, Bruce Springsteen... my mother's going to like that. She's here tonight. It's her birthday and it's the only time she's going to hear those two names mentioned in the same sentence, so I'm going to enjoy it. When I was recording my first album, the record company spent a lot of money taking pictures of me in New York City. But...something didn't feel quite right. So I was walking down the boardwalk one day, stopped at a souvenir stand and bought a postcard that said "Greetings from Asbury Park." I remember thinking, "yeah, that's me." With the exception of a few half years in California, my family and I have raised our kids here. We have a big Italian-Irish family. I found my own Jersey girl right here in Asbury Park. I've always found it deeply resonant holding the hands of my kids on the same streets where my mom held my hand, swimming in the same ocean and taking them to visit the same beaches I did as a child. It was also a place that really protected me. It's been very nurturing. I could take my kids down to Freehold, throw them up on my shoulders and walk along the street with thousands of other people on Kruise Night with everybody just going, "hey Bruce...." That was something that meant a lot to me, the ability to just go about my life. I really appreciated that. You get a little older and when one of those crisp fall days come along in September and October, my friends and I slip into the cool water of the Atlantic Ocean. We take note that there are a few less of us as each year passes. But the thing about being in one place your whole life is that they're all still around you in the water. I look towards the shore and I see my two sons and my daughter pushing their way through the waves. And on the beach there's a whole batch of new little kids running away from the crashing surf like time itself. That's what New Jersey is for me. It's a repository of my time on earth. My memory, the music I've made, my friendships, my life... it's all buried here in a box somewhere in the sand down along the Central Jersey coast. I can't imagine having it any other way. So let me finish with a Garden State benediction. Rise up my fellow New Jerseyans, for we are all members of a confused but noble race. We, of the state that will never get any respect. We, who bear the coolness of the forever uncool. The chip on our shoulders of those with forever something to prove. And even with this wonderful Hall of Fame, we know that there's another bad Jersey joke coming just around the corner. But fear not. This is not our curse. It is our blessing. For this is what imbues us with our fighting spirit. That we may salute the world forever with the Jersey state bird, and that the fumes from our great northern industrial area to the ocean breezes of Cape May fill us with the raw hunger, the naked ambition and the desire not just to do our best, but to stick it in your face. Theory of relativity anybody? How about some electric light with your day? Or maybe a spin to the moon and back? And that is why our fellow Americans in the other 49 states know, when the announcer says "and now in this corner, from New Jersey...." they better keep their hands up and their heads down, because when that bell rings, we're coming out swinging. God Bless the Garden State.
DANNY FEDERICI
"Danny and I worked together for 40 years - he was the most wonderfully fluid
keyboard player and a pure natural musician. I loved him very much...we
grew up together." Danny Federici, for 40 years the E Street Band's organist and keyboard player, died this afternoon, April 17, 2008 at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York City after a three year battle with melanoma. The Federici family and the E Street family request that, in lieu of flowers, donations be made to the Danny Federici Melanoma Fund.
This eulogy was delivered by Bruce Springsteen at Danny's funeral on April 21 in Red Bank, New Jersey: FAREWELL TO DANNYLet me start with the stories. Back in the days of miracles, the frontier days when "Mad Dog" Lopez and his temper struck fear into the band, small club owners, innocent civilians and all women, children and small animals. Back in the days when you could still sign your life away on the hood of a parked car in New York City. Back shortly after a young red-headed accordionist struck gold on the Ted Mack Amateur Hour and he and his mama were sent to Switzerland to show them how it's really done. Back before beach bums were featured on the cover of Time magazine. I'm talking about back when the E Street Band was a communist organization! My pal, quiet, shy Dan Federici, was a one-man creator of some of the hairiest circumstances of our 40 year career... And that wasn't easy to do. He had "Mad Dog" Lopez to compete with... Danny just outlasted him. Maybe it was the "police riot" in Middletown, New Jersey. A show we were doing to raise bail money for "Mad Dog" Lopez who was in jail in Richmond, Virginia, for having an altercation with police officers who we'd aggravated by playing too long. Danny allegedly knocked over our huge Marshall stacks on some of Middletown's finest who had rushed the stage because we broke the law by...playing too long. As I stood there watching, several police oficers crawled out from underneath the speaker cabinets and rushed away to seek medical attention. Another nice young officer stood in front of me onstage waving his nightstick, poking and calling me nasty names. I looked over to see Danny with a beefy police officer pulling on one arm while Flo Federici, his first wife, pulled on the other, assisting her man in resisting arrest. A kid leapt from the audience onto the stage, momentarily distracting the beefy officer with the insults of the day. Forever thereafter, "Phantom" Dan Federici slipped into the crowd and disappeared. A warrant out for his arrest and one month on the lam later, he still hadn't been brought to justice. We hid him in various places but now we had a problem. We had a show coming at Monmouth College. We needed the money and we had to do the gig. We tried a replacement but it didn't work out. So Danny, to all of our admiration, stepped up and said he'd risk his freedom, take the chance and play. Show night. 2,000 screaming fans in the Monmouth College gym. We had it worked out so Danny would not appear onstage until the moment we started playing. We figured the police who were there to arrest him wouldn't do so onstage during the show and risk starting another riot. Let me set the scene for you. Danny is hiding, hunkered down in the backseat of a car in the parking lot. At five minutes to eight, our scheduled start time, I go out to whisk him in. I tap on the window. "Danny, come on, it's time." I hear back, "I'm not going." Me: "What do you mean you're not going?" Danny: "The cops are on the roof of the gym. I've seen them and they're going to nail me the minute I step out of this car." As I open the door, I realize that Danny has been smoking a little something and had grown rather paranoid. I said, "Dan, there are no cops on the roof." He says, "Yes, I saw them, I tell you. I'm not coming in." So I used a procedure I'd call on often over the next forty years in dealing with my old pal's concerns. I threatened him...and cajoled. Finally, out he came. Across the parking lot and into the gym we swept for a rapturous concert during which we laughted like thieves at our excellent dodge of the local cops. At the end of the evening, during the last song, I pulled the entire crowd up onto the stage and Danny slipped into the audience and out the front door. Once again, "Phantom" Dan had made his exit. (I still get the occasional card from the old Chief of Police of Middletown wishing us well. Our histories are forever intertwined.) And that, my friends, was only the beginning. There was the time Danny quit the band during a rough period at Max's Kansas City, explaining to me that he was leaving to fix televisions. I asked him to think about that and come back later. Or Danny, in the band rental car, bouncing off several parked cars after a night of entertainment, smashing out the windshield with his head but saved from severe injury by the huge hard cowboy hat he bought in Texas on our last Western swing. Or Danny, leaving a large marijuana plant on the front seat of his car in a tow away zone. The car was promptly towed. He said, "Bruce, I'm going to go down and report that it was stolen." I said, "I'm not sure that's a good idea." Down he went and straight into the slammer without passing go. Or Danny, the only member of the E Street Band to be physically thrown out of the Stone Pony. Considering all the money we made them, that wasn't easy to do. Or Danny receiving and surviving a "cautionary assault" from an enraged but restrained "Big Man" Clarence Clemons while they were living together and Danny finally drove the "Big Man" over the big top. Or Danny assisting me in removing my foot from his stereo speaker after being the only band member ever to drive me into a violent rage. And through it all, Danny played his beautiful, soulful B3 organ for me and our love grew. And continued to grow. Life is funny like that. He was my homeboy, and great, and for that you make considerations... And he was much more tolerant of my failures than I was of his. When Danny wasn't causing chaos, he was a sweet, talented, unassuming, unpretentious good-hearted guy who simply had an unchecked ability to make good fortune and things in general go fabulously wrong. But beyond all of that, he also had a mountain of the right stuff. He had the heart and soul of an engineer. He learned to fly. He was always up on the latest technology and would explain it to you patiently and in enormous detail. He was always "souping" something up, his car, his stereo, his B3. When Patti joined the band, he was the most welcoming, thoughtful, kindest friend to the first woman entering our "boys club." He loved his kids, always bragging about Jason, Harley, and Madison, and he loved his wife Maya for the new things she brought into his life. And then there was his artistry. He was the most intuitive player I've ever seen. His style was slippery and fluid, drawn to the spaces the other musicians in the E Street Band left. He wasn't an assertive player, he was a complementary player. A true accompanist. He naturally supplied the glue that bound the band's sound together. In doing so, he created for himself a very specific style. When you hear Dan Federici, you don't hear a blanket of sound, you hear a riff, packed with energy, flying above everything else for a few moments and then gone back in the track. "Phantom" Dan Federici. Now you hear him, now you don't. Offstage, Danny couldn't recite a lyric or a chord progression for one of my songs. Onstage, his ears opened up. He listened, he felt, he played, finding the perfect hole and placement for a chord or a flurry of notes. This style created a tremendous feeling of spontaneity in our ensemble playing. In the studio, if I wanted to loosen up the track we were recording, I'd put Danny on it and not tell him what to play. I'd just set him loose. He brought with him the sound of the carnival, the amusements, the boardwalk, the beach, the geography of our youth and the heart and soul of the birthplace of the E Street Band. Then we grew up. Very slowly. We stood together through a lot of trials and tribulations. Danny's response to a mistake onstage, hard times, catastrophic events was usually a shrug and a smile. Sort of an "I am but one man in a raging sea, but I'm still afloat. And we're all still here." I watched Danny fight and conquer some tough addictions. I watched him struggle to put his life together and in the last decade when the band reunited, thrive on sitting in his seat behind that big B3, filled with life and, yes, a new maturity, passion for his job, his family and his home in the brother and sisterhood of our band. Finally, I watched him fight his cancer without complaint and with great courage and spirit. When I asked him how things looked, he just said, "what are you going to do? I'm looking forward to tomorrow." Danny, the sunny side up fatalist. He never gave up right to the end. A few weeks back we ended up onstage in Indianapolis for what would be the last time. Before we went on I asked him what he wanted to play and he said, "Sandy." He wanted to strap on the accordion and revisit the boardwalk of our youth during the summer nights when we'd walk along the boards with all the time in the world. So what if we just smashed into three parked cars, it's a beautiful night! So what if we're on the lam from the entire Middletown police department, let's go take a swim! He wanted to play once more the song that is of course about the end of something wonderful and the beginning of something unknown and new. Let's go back to the days of miracles. Pete Townshend said, "a rock and roll band is a crazy thing. You meet some people when you're a kid and unlike any other occupation in the whole world, you're stuck with them your whole life no matter who they are or what crazy things they do." If we didn't play together, the E Street Band at this point would probably not know one another. We wouldn't be in this room together. But we do... We do play together. And every night at 8 p.m., we walk out on stage together and that, my friends, is a place where miracles occur...old and new miracles. And those you are with, in the presence of miracles, you never forget. Life does not separate you. Death does not separate you. Those you are with who create miracles for you, like Danny did for me every night, you are honored to be amongst. Of course we all grow up and we know "it's only rock and roll"...but it's not. After a lifetime of watching a man perform his miracle for you, night after night, it feels an awful lot like love. So today, making another one of his mysterious exits, we say farewell to Danny, "Phantom" Dan, Federici. Father, husband, my brother, my friend, my mystery, my thorn, my rose, my keyboard player, my miracle man and lifelong member in good standing of the house rockin', pants droppin', earth shockin', hard rockin', booty shakin', love makin', heart breakin', soul cryin'... and, yes, death defyin' legendary E Street Band.
VIDEO: A TRIBUTE TO DANNY
VIDEO: DANNY FEDERICI AT HIS LAST APPEARANCE WITH HIS LIFELONG COLLEAGUES E Street Band keyboardist Danny Federici treated Indianapolis fans to a special appearance at Conseco Fieldhouse on March 20th. Danny's performance was a profound expression of the healing power of music and community, all the more poignant in light of his death just a few weeks later. Here, from the Indie show, is an excerpt from one of Danny's signature accordion performances on the rarely-played Sandy. See the SET LISTS for this show and the rest of the tour on the brucespringsteen.net set list page.
ENDORSEMENT: 2008 Dear Friends and Fans: LIke most of you, I've been following the campaign and I have now seen and heard enough to know where I stand. Senator Obama, in my view, is head and shoulders above the rest. He has the depth, the reflectiveness, and the resilience to be our next President. He speaks to the America I've envisioned in my music for the past 35 years, a generous nation with a citizenry willing to tackle nuanced and complex problems, a country that's interested in its collective destiny and in the potential of its gathered spirit. A place where "...nobody crowds you, and nobody goes it alone." At the moment, critics have tried to diminish Senator Obama through the exaggeration of certain of his comments and relationships. While these matters are worthy of some discussion, they have been ripped out of the context and fabric of the man's life and vision, so well described in his excellent book, Dreams From My Father, often in order to distract us from discussing the real issues: war and peace, the fight for economic and racial justice, reaffirming our Constitution, and the protection and enhancement of our environment. After the terrible damage done over the past eight years, a great American reclamation project needs to be undertaken. I believe that Senator Obama is the best candidate to lead that project and to lead us into the 21st Century with a renewed sense of moral purpose and of ourselves as Americans. Over here on E Street, we're proud to support Obama for President. Bruce Springsteen VIDEO: ANAHEIM: THE GHOST OF TOM JOAD(with TOM MORELLO) At long last it's here, Bruce and Tom Morello's extraordinary version--the complete performance--of The Ghost of Tom Joad, from April 7 in Anaheim, beautifully remixed by long time house engineer John Cooper: View video clip.
VIDEO: HOUSTON: ALWAYS A FRIEND
VIDEO: SACRAMENTO: SPIRIT IN THE NIGHT
VIDEO: COLUMBUS: YOU'LL BE COMIN' DOWN
VIDEO: VANCOUVER: TRAPPED
VIDEO: SEATTLE: POINT BLANK
VIDEO: PORTLAND: FOR YOU
VIDEO: ST. PAUL: DARKNESS ON THE EDGE OF TOWN
VIDEO: NASSAU: INCIDENT ON 57TH STREET
VIDEO: BUFFALO: DETROIT MEDLEY
VIDEO: HARTFORD: SO YOUNG AND IN LOVE
VIDEO: MONTREAL: BECAUSE THE NIGHT
NEW BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN GEAR, LITHOGRAPHS, AND CONCERT MERCHANDISE NOW AVAILABLE
ROLLING STONE ROCKED ON LONG ISLAND
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN TO PERFORM BENEFIT CONCERT ON MAY 7
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN INTERVIEWED ON NPR
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN TAKES TO THE ROAD
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN WINS THREE GRAMMYS
EUROPEAN DATES ADDED TO 2008 TOUR SCHEDULE FOLLOWING RAVES AND SELL-OUTS FOR '07 DATES 'MAGIC' ALBUM (COLUMBIA) GARNERS MANY TOP YEAR-END HONORS Bruce Springsteen has hit the ground running in 2008. Springsteen's new video will see release on the iTunes Store, new tour dates have been announced and 'Magic' is one of the top albums of 2007. Today, Columbia Records released a "Girls In Their Summer Clothes" bundle exclusively through the iTunes Store. The release marks the premiere of the "Girls In Their Summer Clothes" video and also includes a "Winter Mix" of the song; and a live rendition. Directed by Mark Pellington ("Lonesome Day," Pearl Jam's "Jeremy"), the video was shot in Ocean Grove and Asbury Park, NJ. Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band have announced an extensive tour schedule for 2008. Their 2007 tour was met with rapturous critical response and rapid sell-outs. The Washington Post proclaimed, "Springsteen and his longtime band were simply great, performing a well-considered set with heightened intensity and a very clear sense of purpose... Springsteen remains one of the most potent live performers in popular music -- largely because he's among the most committed practitioners of the form, draining all of his creative energy every time he's onstage." 'Magic' has received notice on over forty critics' year-end best lists, including Rolling Stone, Blender, Spin, and USA Today, and was named Entertainment Weekly's top album of 2007. Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band 2008 Tour Dates
Visit the brucespringsteen.net tour page for updates and the latest confirmed dates.
SANTA CLAUS COMES TO EUROPE
DETROIT BREAKOUTS
CLEVELAND BREAKOUTS
MINNEAPOLIS STAR TRIBUNE: "SPRINGSTEEN WAS HIS CLASSIC, ROCKIN' SELF"
LOS ANGELES TIMES: "SPRINGSTEEN STILL ROCKING WITHOUT A NET"
OAKLAND BREAKOUTS
JON STEWART EXPERIENCES JOY
BRUCE BREAKS OUT THE BIG ONES AT MSG
NEW YORK TIMES: "SPRINGSTEEN LEAVES GARDEN AUDIENCE EUPHORIC"
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN WELCOMES THE ARCADE FIRE IN OTTAWA
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN ON '60 MINUTES'
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN AND THE E-STREET BAND KICK OFF TOUR IN HARTFORD
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN'S 'MAGIC' RELEASED TODAY ON COLUMBIA RECORDS
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN AND THE E-STREET BAND RETURN TO THE STAGE IN ASBURY PARK
"E STREET RADIO" CHANNEL, DEDICATED TO BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN AND THE E-STREET BAND, RETURNS EXCLUSIVELY TO SIRIUS SATELLITE RADIO
REMEMBERING TERRY MAGOVERN
NEW BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN GEAR AND CONCERT MERCHANDISE NOW AVAILABLE
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN'S 'MAGIC' RELEASED ON OCTOBER 2 ON COLUMBIA RECORDS
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CHARLOTTESVILLE, VIRGINIA Off the rim by Glenn Radecki Originally slated to be the last show of the spring leg of the Magic tour, one could have drawn a circle around this show in the tour itinerary, marking it as likely to be something special. The John Paul Jones Arena -- the basketball arena on the campus of the University of Virginia -- is magnificent, having opened less than two years ago. Seating capacity was about 14,000 (with no seats behind the stage), making it the second-smallest venue the tour visited in North America. Every seat was filled. The show was in a college town, somewhere Bruce hadn't played since the mid-'70s, and only 70 miles down the road from Richmond, a very important area in Bruce's live history (which Bruce made mention of before the encore). The band had a day off before the show. The crowd was solid (if not spectacular). Considering all of these factors, that Charlottesville wound up getting a flat show is even more puzzling. Perhaps expectations were set too high, but Wednesday's concert came out feeling like a disappointment. The band's performance was solid, with all three guitarists shining throughout the show (particularly during "Adam," "Gypsy Biker," and "Prove It"). Musically, the band gave no hint of being anything but in mid-tour form. The setlist, unfortunately, was uninspired. Considering the breadth of the Springsteen catalog, Charlottesville could have used a little more than "Loose Ends" and "No Surrender" as the only songs in the setlist from 1978 to 2002. Bruce can't be always be expected to debut the super-rarity for the five percent of the crowd that's dying to hear it, but even if it's just a night where the band plays more of a "standard" setlist, it doesn't explain why the show got two songs and 15 minutes shorter. Over the course of any Springsteen tour, there are always going to be shows that stick out as the nights were everything clicks, with an amazing setlist and strong performance. There will also be, unfortunately, those nights where -- to borrow a term from a guitar player from New Jersey -- the "magic" isn't quite there. View from the Left by Bethaney & Jillian Not that left -- well yes, that left, too, but today we speak of the left side of the stage, where King Clarence reigns from his gilded throne complete with running lights along the base. A mean auction item some day, we're thinking. On all Bruce tours we're destined to sit left, it seems, so tonight as we settle in once again we take in the familiar details. But of course something big has changed and the earth tilts, slightly askew. Our sly-smiling, head-bobbing Danny has left us -- but will never be gone -- and in that place sits Charlie Giordano, working hard to do justice to the legacy of the man from Flemington, New Jersey. He looks around at us, smiling and nodding as if to say "How'm I doing?" We clap enthusiastically and mouth "Yes, yes! We're here for you." Charlie has a huge loose-leaf notebook of music in front of him, and it crystallizes the enormity of the task that faces him nightly -- the spine reads "HeavyDuty." On the floor beside him is a large bottle of Tums; it appears to be empty. From our vantage point, we also see the many mysterious pedals and gadgets at Nils's feet -- what do they all do? And we watch his whirling dervish routine with awe -- how does he do that and still play? And that Max, flowing mane, impeccable posture and hands that move at blinding speed, a blur of motion on the screen over our heads. Bruce comes to visit us now and again, and we are always appreciative, hungry for that nanosecond of eye contact to carry us until we meet again. As the encore begins, we hear the familiar violin intro of "Meeting Across the River" and we are mesmerized. Combined with "Jungleland," it is more than the highlight of the show, it is what these shows are all about -- when music, lyrics, and performance coalesce into perfection. And in those moments our spirits soar, we are spellbound, and we are thankful. Signing off from the left... GREENSBORO, NORTH CAROLINA
Can we take it higher? by Glenn Radecki Five and a half years after the E Street Band last played the Greensboro Coliseum, it seemed as if very little had changed. Bruce and the band clearly enjoyed playing this old-school venue, where there were no luxury boxes that forced the upper tier seats into the stratosphere. The arena wasn't quite full but had a raucous Carolina crowd, particularly behind the stage, which prompted three separate visits by Bruce to the back ramp during the show. Bruce seemed to remember, too: after his first visit behind the stage at the end of "The Promised Land," he went from the ramp behind the stage to the drum riser, striking the crash cymbal with his harmonica as the song ended, and then jumped off, successfully landing on the main stage. It was the exact same move he unsuccessfully made at the last E Street show in Greensboro, when he fell and got a nasty cut on his forearm. Second time's a charm! The excellent crowd Monday night not only prompted Bruce to pull out every trick from his "Can we take it higher?" playbook -- "Out in the Street," "Sunny Day" and two false endings to "Badlands" -- their charity was on display as well. A large jar of fan donations to the Federici melanoma fund, collected before the show, was brought out by Bruce (with his thanks) and placed on the drum riser for the remainder of the show. A strong setlist with not one but two surprise song debuts from Tracks made for a great opening, clearly a treat for the "connoisseurs" in the audience. The setlist remained strong throughout the evening, with the exception of the unfortunate "Waitin' on a Sunny Day" into "Devil's Arcade pairing. Perhaps if Bruce hadn't skipped "None But the Brave"... The biggest highlight of the night, however, was that the band was clearly having a good measure of fun on stage again, after the pervasive but inevitable sadness present in the last few shows. From Steve and Clarence's "Ramrod" antics to Bruce on top of the amplifier behind Max's drums leading the crowd in clapping during "Sunny Day," a certain joy was back in Greensboro, best exemplified by "Mary's Place" (complete with Bruce's knee slide!), a song perfectly suited to the band's current situation. Cathartic for both the band and the audience, the song asked and answered the key question as E Street performed short one member: "How do you live broken-hearted?" The answer, of course: "Turn it up!" Rock around the clock by Ray Phillips The third show in four nights for me, and I have to admit to feeling some weariness. How in the world does this guy manage to get up for every show and work himself to death with such enthusiasm? I would like to know his secret, because he was on top of his game at all three shows. He is determined to give every fan his best, and he seems to be having a lot of fun doing it. The three shows were similar, but what differences there were made for a lot of fun. The emotional opening, with the video montage of Danny Federici followed by... who knows what! In Greensboro it was "Roulette" -- cool! But the hallmark of these shows seems to be stuff out of the '70s vault. Greetings, Wild & Innocent, Born to Run, and Darkness were all well-represented, and it was fun. While the first two are not my favorite productions, they are distinctively different, rock with a bit of jazz flavor, and that material gives the band more opportunity to show their stuff. Who could not appreciate the back-and-forth improvisations during "Kitty's Back" in Charlotte? I was mesmerized by Charlie, Roy, Nils, and Bruce. The only thing we missed was some trap action from Max. How about Gary and the tuba on "Wild Billy"? Or, in Greensboro, the guitar action on "Saint in the City"? Just terrific. But for me, growing up with the rock 'n' roll of the '50s, not much can top "Ramrod." Basic, three-chord, 4/4 rock 'n' roll. Nothing better. Don't think about it, don't worry about the message, just enjoy the sound and the rhythm. It's Boss Time! What a great way to close my three-city run. CHARLOTTE, NORTH CAROLINA The Ghost of Phantom Dan by Doug Corkill The memory of Dan Federici haunted the E Street Band Sunday night in Charlotte. The performance was somewhat disjointed while the message was mixed. Is this a political commentary or is it a tribute to a friend? The show opened with the stirring video tribute to Danny while a recording of "Blood Brothers" played. The band began with an eerie, echoing "Souls of the Departed," and even though Bruce's snarled reading of the line "hatred and dirty lies" reminded the audience of the show's overall political message, "Souls" was for Danny. Four slots later Roy Bittan strapped on an accordion, Garry Tallent sat down with a tuba, and Bruce reminisced about Danny before playing "Wild Billy's Circus Story," "for our old pal." While a lovely tribute to Danny, this show has had a frenetic pacing, and "Wild Billy" sucked the air right out of the room. The momentum did not recover until Nils Lofgren's amazing over-under hands on the neck of the guitar solo during "Prove It All Night" several songs later. Thereafter the show continued with the rat-a-tat attack it has had in the past, through a requested "Darlington County," a sensual rendition of "Lost in the Flood" and an audience delighting encore opening Thunder Road. When the band launched into Kitty's Back you could only wonder; how was Danny's replacement, Charles Giordano, going to handle his turn in the spotlight during the organ solo? Giordano had been so low in the mix all night long you hardly even knew he was there, and his solo in "Kitty" was short and workmanlike. The rest of the song smoked, as Roy, Steve Van Zandt and Clarence Clemons each took a solo. During the band introductions Bruce said "Charlie Giordano," and then almost under his breath, added "from the [Seeger] Sessions Band." Charlotte was less than a week after Danny's funeral service, and it seemed the band was coming down off the adrenalin rush that fueled them through their three shows last week. There is a hole in their souls now where Danny used to be. At the end of the evening Bruce was visibly exhausted during the bows. Throughout the night, Max Weinberg was the glue that held the band together. His drumming ranged from a massive sound that rattled chest cavities to the syncopated rhythm playing the drum edge in "Last to Die" to the muffled Bo Diddley beat at the start of "She's the One" which he got by placing a towel over the tom-tom. Like Bruce, Max also appeared spent by the show's end. It is noble that Bruce and the band have adopted the "show must go on" mentality. It is nobler still that they are willing to share their public grieving with the audience. The ghost of Phantom Dan may be embarrassed by the attention, but this is a necessary process for both the band and their fans. In Charlotte, we all said a prayer for the soul of the departed. ATLANTA, GEORGIA The E Street Tornado By Ray Phillips It was an emotionally charged tribute to Danny which opened the show at Philips Arena last night. The video montage accompanied by the studio version of "Blood Brothers" was a very moving experience. Being old enough to have friends for 40 years myself (dare I admit to 50 or more?) I have not had to deal with losing one, let alone one as close as Danny to Bruce. It scares me to think about that. I am looking forward to spending time with several friends of 40 years in September. As one gets older, the reality of mortality sinks in, but the loss of a contemporary really brings it home. I can't read Bruce's mind, but it has to be weighing heavy on him. Does this have anything to do with the looseness and unpredictability of the last few shows? "Life is short -- let's let it hang out!" And hang out it did. At just the right moment. As the emotion from Danny's tribute was ebbing... BANG! Philips Arena had the roof blown off (figuratively -- no tornado this time) with the raucous arrangement of "Reason to Believe" as the first song of the night. From a very somber moment to the highest of highs in a matter of seconds! Only Springsteen can make that happen. It was a typical high-energy show, with Bruce putting his heart and soul into entertaining the receptive and appreciative crowd. He seems to be reaching back more now, to bring back the music he and his bandmates made a long time ago. For himself? Or for the audience? I guess for both. Was this a Magic show or a Reunion Tour show? He certainly cut back on Magic in order to squeeze in the older material. There are some plusses and minuses to that. Old stuff is definitely good stuff. But Bruce has such a vast songbook to choose from, and he seems at times focused on too little a portion of it. The period between Tunnel and The Rising seems to have disappeared. I personally don't really have to hear "Badlands," "Born to Run," or "The Promised Land" at every show. But if that's what Bruce chooses to play... that's okay. It's way ahead of no Bruce. ORLANDO, FLORIDA
A Celebration by C.F. Sodolak Tonight's show had a very different feel from last night's show in Tampa. Danny's spirit was the touchstone for both, and his absence was palpable each night, though in different ways. Last night seemed more funereal, while tonight was more celebratory. If the Tampa show was about mourning Danny's death, tonight's show was about celebrating Danny's life. While things started out with a very dark and intense performance of "Blood Brothers," the mood brightened considerably with energetic, physical performances of "Out in the Street," "Spirit in the Night," "Does This Bus Stop at 82nd Street?," and "Candy's Room" early in the set. At times, Bruce was even in a playful mood. Before "Livin' in the Future," he shouted out "Orlando! I'm going to Disneyland [sic]!," a moment which would have seemed impossible last night. Still, more of a "Danny" show than a "Magic" show, this one felt "outside" of the tour. In the first half of the main set, the infrastructure of the Magic tour was jettisoned. With the absence of both "Gypsy Biker" and "Magic," there were no songs from the new album between the third song, "Radio Nowhere," and the 11th, "Livin' in the Future." In all, only five songs from Magic were played tonight, which was clearly intentional -- no other Magic songs were on the setlist. Another telling stat: between these two Florida shows, 40 different songs were performed, out of a total of 51 songs -- far more than the usual Night A/Night B change-ups. Bruce is digging deep. The highlight of tonight's show was Roger McGuinn's guest appearance. It's always interesting to watch Bruce joined onstage by someone he considers an influence. It's a rare opportunity to see Bruce acting deferentially, humbled by someone else's talent. Tonight, this was reflected by Bruce giving Roger not one song, but two: "Turn! Turn! Turn!" and "Mr. Tambourine Man," the latter performed with most of the verses in Bob Dylan's original, not just those in the shorter Byrds' version. Both songs perfectly summed up the mood of the evening: reflective, but rejoicing. TAMPA, FLORIDA
Something Bigger Than Ourselves by Sylvie Damien Devastated by the news I learned yesterday of the death of my friend (ironically, someone that once had very close ties to an E Street member), I juggled the grief I felt all day, going to work, with the anticipation of tonight's concert. The eerie similarity was not lost to me: the band has to go to work tonight, too. This is the first performance since Danny Federici's death, and in some strange way I feel that going tonight will help me. Knowing we are both grieving for life-long friends is oddly comforting. Seeing the show with three musicians, one a Springsteen virgin, I wonder about the tone of tonight's show while my companions thrive in their technical discussion of how the stage is built, who uses what amps, and what monitors hold the lyrics. My mind wanders and I, too, start to notice things... five microphones out front -- must mean Patti is back? As the house lights fade to black, we hear the band come up. In the darkness, only a screen breathes with life, showing images of 30-plus friendship-filled years of Danny Federici's life as an E Street member. This, while the low beginnings of "Blood Brothers" rumble, instantly captivates the crowd. The fans feel this huge loss, no explanation or words necessary, and bow collectively with respect. I feel my own loss, and tears silently glide on my cheek. Springsteen quickly tears into the set list with a heart-tugging rendition of "Backstreets" while a spotlight shines on Danny's organ, and he ends with a primal howl of sorrow in sync with the light going dark. We all feel the scream, the first of many lumps in our collective throats. Later an even bigger lump rises up, with a strikingly moving rendition of " No Surrender," Professor Roy paying tribute to Danny. Could it get any more poignant? An unexpected but so welcome "Sandy" stirs the crowd with Roy playing Federici's accordion part, ending with Springsteen wiping tears from his eyes and embracing Roy... this is tough for them, but they know they have to do it. We try to read Springsteen's mood early on, wondering if it will be somber, dark, sad... but it's quickly apparent there is something intangibly different. Throughout the show, there's a sense of rebirth. This artist's voice seems so clear and strong, reminiscent of the "Born to Run" tour from long ago, even through the muddy sound system that never clears, you hear the ever-constant quality. Bruce delivers the heart-pounding rock vocals with a sedulous dynamism as only he can. Blowing the notes off the charts in extraordinary precision, it's typical, and now expected, for Springsteen to sound better in person than on his records, but this is even beyond that. I ask myself how it is possible this man never degrades, other than his hairline? I look over at the virgin I brought and see he's already hooked. I love what a consistently predictable transformation occurs with newcomers. Springsteen exudes an energy that hits my pal like no other he's known. I knew it would... how cool is that? He's impressed -- no surprise there. He gives me a look as if to say, "I had no idea it would be like this!" Wondering why Bruce is singing "Because the Night," he is surprised when I tell him Bruce wrote it, and he begins to understand Springsteen is more than he realized. Bruce holds nothing back tonight, showing us his honest, raw emotion at his loss, and the audience responds throughout the night, trying to mirror Bruce's ridiculously high energy at every turn, for every note, on every guitar lick. We sing along to all of his crowd-pleasing "pop" songs as well, filled with emotion but with no somber nuances - this is a celebration of energy that always catches me off-guard, so intensely is it manifested. And still, Danny is the unspoken focus tonight. With a simple "For Dan" dedication, time stops as Bruce offers a moving "I'll Fly Away," with the whole band joining him up front for this first song of the encore set, deeply touching the crowd. Feeling no pain at this point, with no conscious thoughts but an intense sense of belonging, for a slice of time, feeling pure enjoyment, I long for what has been an elusive "Tenth Avenue" for me for more than ten years, always sung at the show I didn't see. Then suddenly, I hear the opening notes ,and in disbelief, I cannot contain my sheer excitement -- I so needed to hear this tonight. An unleashing of all my raw emotion slips out for the friend I lost this week. It is worth the wait all these years to hear this song on this night, for that reason, and a sense of healing comes over me. With a crescendo of seemingly never-exhausting, super-human Bruce dynamism -- 58 and going strong -- and genuine hope, the band ends with his uplifting "American Land." And it's over -- too quickly as always, even after nearly three packed hours of, not draining, but revitalizing emotion. I know (let me fantasize here, okay?) I've lost 10 pounds, and I figure at the end of this week's four shows, I'll be down to my grade school weight. Who needs a diet when you can see Bruce on tour, four nights in one week? Now this week would be complete if only "The E Street Shuffle" would walk my way... I notice my virgin buddy and I smugly recognize the look: I see he is hungry for more. "Wow! I had no idea! Awe-inspiring..." he exclaims - really, he said that! He decides to come with us tomorrow to Orlando. "Everyone needs to see this," he says to himself, not quite realizing he's saying it out loud. What he doesn't know is that, although there is the underlying emotion of grief tonight, this uniquely soul-changing, cleansing, cathartic experience happens each and every time you see Springsteen. Together, we step into something bigger than ourselves. We'll do it again tomorrow with another virgin coming with us. And I as I walk out tonight, I realize that my instinct was right, I feel somehow comforted, and definitely renewed. Thanks guys, I hope we did the same for you. "Don't worry, we're going to find a way...." See you in Orlando! Magic and Loss by Bob Mason Looking at the stage before tonight's' show there was a visual reminder of what was already on so many of our minds: a lone accordion sitting atop a black curtained table, lit by a spot in front of Danny's organ station. We couldn't help but think about Danny Federici at this, Bruce and the E Street Band's first night back on stage, the news of his death so fresh on our minds -- getting that phone call from a friend on Thursday night to tell you that Danny passed away, or reading the news on the internet, how your eyes filled up -- and still the utter disbelief that Danny had passed away so quickly. Didn't we just see him onstage in Indy -- wasn't it only last month? Danny looked good, he was battling the cancer, but he stepped out on the stage and sounded so sweet, maybe it all wasn't true. Now, seeing that spotlit accordion on stage, it's unavoidable. His passing hits many of us as hard as if we were family. Funny thing, this E Street Band. Most of us don't know you personally, yet you are woven into our lives. We think we know you. If we don't, we know someone who knows someone who does. We've all spent hours together in the same "room," watching you perform live and feeling part of that performance, we've seen the videos, we've taken your music into our hearts. We call you by your first names, as we have been friends for a long time. You're like our distant cousins from New Jersey. La famiglia. Death has never touched us. That was always another band: The Dead, The Who, Nirvana. So the nervous anticipation in the St. Pete Times forum tonight came partly from this being undiscovered country. What is Bruce going to do? How will it make us feel? How should we feel? A huge screen drops down from the lighting rig behind Max's riser. Okay, a video tribute -- I can handle that. 8:15, lights go down, a tremendous roar from the crowd. Band members walk on stage to their stations, Bruce steps up to the mic, Before I can comprehend what Bruce is saying, the opening strains of "Blood Brothers" fill my ears, the recorded accompaniment to images of Danny fill that fill the screen. The E Street Band watches with us: young Danny, smiles (always), long hair, the looks from the '70s (yes, we did look like that, too). The '80s: the hair, the blue jacket from the Tunnel tour, Danny at the keyboard, bopping that head. Video clips from July 1, 2000, during the original band performance of "Blood Brothers" that closed the Reunion Tour. Danny hugging Steve in Indy, arms around him walking off stage. Images from forever. Applause, tears streaming down people's cheeks. Then the performance begins with "Backstreets," and the emotional edge is razor sharp. So much of the setlist is about friendship, redemption, and salvation -- "Lonesome Day," "No Surrender," "Darkness," "Growin' Up," "Sunny Day" -- and the energy fueled by everyone in the Band reaching down and turning their grief and loss into what they do best. Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band played their hearts out, they blew us away for two-and-half hours. The solos seared through the night. Bruce's power and intensity, his tears and his laughter, too. Steven's guitars. Roy taking over the accordion on "Sandy," as Bruce tells him, "You better get this right... somebody's watching." Nils just ripping the solo on "Because the Night," spinning 360s. "Racing in the Street," more bittersweet than ever. Max's solo at the end of "Badlands." We've heard all the songs before. Not always with this emotion, not always with this intensity... and at the same time, not always missing something as they were tonight, especially tonight. Missing the indefinable touch that was Danny's, the Boardwalk sounds of his virtuosity. The smile, the love, the mystery, the memories. It will all always be just a little different. Then there was one we hadn't heard before, one that could have easily fit in on the Seeger Sessions tour but perhaps was waiting for just this moment. "This one's for Dan," Bruce said in the encore, as if the whole night hadn't been, and the entire band came down front to sing the old gospel hymn together: "Some bright morning, when this life is over, I'll fly away." And did we feel? Drained, raw, but lifted up, and grateful. HOUSTON, TEXAS
Always a Friend By Lowell D. Kern Most bands expose their fans to lesser-known bands by offering these musicians the slot as the opening act on their tours. As we know, Bruce Springsteen doesn't have an opening act. But being the huge music fan he is, Bruce has always wanted to share his love of other musicians with his audience. And being who he is, Bruce has always done it in a most respectful way -- by sharing his stage with these artists. Over the past four shows, the E Street Band has been joined by four different performers -- Tom Morello both nights in Anaheim, Jon Bon Jovi in Dallas, and most recently in Houston by two renowned Texas acts, Alejandro Escovedo and Joe Ely. Morello joined Bruce for "The Ghost of Tom Joad," a Springsteen-penned song that Morello's band, Rage Against the Machine, made their own. Bon Jovi dueted with Bruce on "Glory Days." But, to my mind, Bruce paid the ultimate compliment to Alejandro (in Texas, he's instantly recognizable by just his first name) and Ely by playing their songs. Of the two, Joe Ely is probably the better-known to Springsteen fans. Ely has guested with Bruce many times before, including as long ago as 1993 at the Kristen Ann Carr Fund benefit concert at Madison Square Garden. Ely's "All Just to Get to You, " the song they did in Houston, tends to be their live song of choice together, and Bruce appears on Ely's studio recording of the song. The warm reception for Ely from the Houston Springsteen crowd was not unexpected. Unfamiliar acts have not always fared well as Bruce's guests. And while Alejandro is a household name to music fans in this part of the country, he may be more of an unknown entity to many Springsteen fans. But after the incendiary performance of "Always a Friend," the first single off his forthcoming album Real Animal, that should no longer be the case. Bruce turned the stage over to Alejandro, and he delivered. The crowd was up and dancing. The smile on Bruce's face, watching his friend and colleague, was priceless. In fact, the entire E Street Band seemed particularly excited, smiling in encouragement and admiration and sounding as sharp as ever, as though they had been playing the song for years. Part of the wonder of a Springsteen show is that the unexpected is often the norm. Over the last few shows, and particularly in Texas, special guests aren't unexpected. But seeing performances like those delivered in Houston by Joe Ely and Alejandro Escovedo certainly is wonderful. DALLAS, TEXAS
Sunday, April 13, 2008 It's the Little Things That Count by Lowell D. Kern There are plenty of people who follow Springsteen tours, seeing multiple shows across the country. Part of the motivation to do so, aside from seeing friends and sampling local cuisine, is the search for that transcendent experience. You know the one -- where all of the cosmic tumblers fall into place, and you don't have a thought about anything else except living right there in the moment, huge smile on your face, no place else you'd rather be for those two-plus hours. Plenty of people feel that way about the one show they see in their hometown. But for the tour followers, those moments don't happen every night. They didn't happen in Dallas last night, but that's not a complaint. As with every Springsteen show, there are moments when the world seems right. Max Weinberg has described how he has to watch every move Bruce makes on stage to be ready for anything that gets thrown at him. For many in the crowd, that's what a concert is like, too -- all eyes on Bruce, all the time. His performance is so riveting that, as good as they are, the E Street Band seem to be simply providing a vehicle for Bruce to dominate. But if you stop and watch the individual band members, you realize why the E Street Band is so mighty. In some cases, it's just the warmth they show for each other. Last night was Max's birthday and Bruce gave him his own curtain call at the start of the encores -- even though Max then left the stage, as his drums aren't a part of "Meeting Across the River." But it can be something even more subtle: the look on Steve's face when Clarence nails a solo; Bruce's awe at Nils' prowess during "Because the Night"; Charlie Giordano applauding quietly in the darkness when Bruce mentions Danny during the intro to "Magic." The band's ability as musicians sometimes gets overlooked. I'm not talking about those out-front solos, when you're finally made to look at someone other than Bruce. Subtle things, like Garry's bass on "Last to Die," the little flourishes Roy has been adding on the intro to "Jungleland," Max getting a chance to show off the delicacy on the kit that he displays on Conan, Soozie's fiddle providing color throughout. Some of those moments are sometimes bizarre. Is there a front man for any band that would stop in the middle of the show when he notices an entire grammar school class in the front of the pit and carry on a private conversation with them in front of 18,000 people? It's these things -- not the setlists (although "My Love" to open the set would make me very happy), or the crowd, or the special (and not so special) guests -- that keep me on the road night after night, show after show. ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA (2)
Tuesday, April 8, 2008 Prove It All Night By Jon Greer I arrived in Anaheim for my third Bruce show in five days (I know, lucky me!) planning to write a blog post focusing on "the gathering of the tribe," the way that hardcore Bruce fans come together for a show and bring with them rituals such as sign-waving and chanting along with certain songs. But the performance put on by Bruce and the E. Street Band on Tuesday night put an end to those plans. The performance was simply breathtaking, astonishing, transcendent, even perhaps historic. Yes, it was that good. You never know when you see a show in Anaheim whether Bruce is feeling like he's playing Los Angeles (the entertainment capital of the world) or just another show in the suburbs. Tonight, from the opening strains of "Thunder Road," there was no doubt. Was opening with "Thunder Road" a nod to his 1975 performance of the song to open his set at the Roxy in 1975, the version that led off the Live 1975-85 box set? Listening to that historic show (as well as the mind-blowing performance he gave at the Roxy three years later on the Darkness tour), you couldn't miss Bruce's sense of mission, his desire to prove to the assembled industry players that he was worthy of all the praise he had received. Yet after "Thunder Road," the set began in a pretty standard way. So maybe Bruce wasn't feeling the need to prove anything? Wrong. The next five songs were a tour de force of Bruce and the band at their best: "Atlantic City," "Candy's Room," "Reason to Believe," Prove It All Night" and then "Because the Night." Showing his command of the moment, Bruce audibled by adding "Prove It" to the set (see, he was out to prove something), then audibled again in the middle of the song, whispering to Nils to keep his acoustic guitar and not switch to his electric for his usual incendiary guitar solo. That was because Bruce had determined mid-song (apparently) to also play "Because the Night," and it would be during that song that Nils would do his solo. The next surprise came on "Brilliant Disguise," when Bruce paired with Sister Soozie on the duet, the first time in memory that the female vocal wasn't handled by Patti Scialfa. Considering the relationship issues driving that song, it was a curious decision. But perhaps the message wasn't about male-female relationships this time. Maybe it was the Bruce-audience relationship he was alluding to, as in, "you think you know me but maybe you don't. Maybe it's all a brilliant disguise." (Or maybe he just felt like playing it.) Or maybe it was a request from Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine, who was waiting backstage to once again join Bruce and the band for a words-can't-describe electric version of "The Ghost of Tom Joad." This is such a great electric song, something like "Seeds"-meets-"Youngstown"-meets-"Murder Incorporated." Bruce and Tom spit out the lyrics, highlighting the injustices detailed in the song in a way that the acoustic version doesn't convey. And Tom's guitar virtuosity cannot be understated. The man is in a league of his own, as he demonstrated during his two solos. The surprises continued when Bruce skipped both "Devil's Arcade" (which wasn't even setlisted) and "The Rising" (which was). That let him go straight into "Last to Die," which kept the show's tempo and volume high. I adore "Devil's Arcade," but I have to admit it is starting to sound a little stale and static, which may be why it got a rest. It's such a well-crafted song that perhaps it defies reinterpretation, but Bruce may want to add a guitar solo or some other element to bring it more to life in the concert setting. Another shocker to close, as "Out in the Street" again followed "Badlands," the well-established main set closer until Anaheim. (It was great fun, though I'm not convinced it's a main set closer.) During the encores, Bruce then kept the surprises coming, pulling out "Meeting Across the River" before "Jungleland." Any Bruce concert with that pairing is one for the ages. And that, perhaps, was the point of the evening. Let there be no doubt: Bruce Springsteen is an artist for the ages. ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA (1) Monday, April 7, 2008 Out for Blood by Wes Castleman "Good evening. We're out for blood," said Bruce Springsteen a few songs into Monday's concert at the Honda Center. After an opening salvo that included the tour premiere of "LIght of Day" to open and "Murder Incorporated," this was already evident, but if anyone missed the point, the songs that followed -- "Trapped," "Reason to Believe," and "Because the Night" -- would hammer it home. This was the E Street Band at their hard rocking finest. Bruce may have started the show singing, "Things can't get any worse, they gotta get better." But by the time we reached the tour premiere of "The Ghost of Tom Joad," his clear message was that the sentiment was wrong -- that for many people, things are continuing to get worse. Nobody's kidding nobody about where this highway is going. Rage Against the Machine's Tom Morello, whose band has covered the song in the past, made a stunning guest appearance for this one, and it was a blistering performance: a reinvention of 1995's acoustic song as rocking guitar assault, and the heart of the thematic presentation that Bruce put together on this night. It had long been suggested that "The Ghost of Tom Joad" was originally written with the band in mind, and the performance here certainly lends credence to the alleged origins. This updated version took the timeless elements of the song and framed them for presentation in 2008's United States, where nearly 1.3 million properties were subjects of foreclosure activity last year, and 80,000 jobs were lost last month alone. Like the Joad family, people's hopes and dreams are being blown away, and this version of the song responded with anger and defiance. It demanded that its message be heard. I've always enjoyed seeing Bruce watch someone he really respects, and it was evident that he holds a lot of respect for Morello. Bruce and Tom traded the first two verses and shared the third, with Morello adding extra emphasis to "Look in their eyes Ma, you'll see me," spitting out the line with barely controlled fury. Then the guitar solos began, the hardest rocking moment of the tour to date. Morello's work here was simply astounding -- scratching, coaxing, and forcing out an epic coda to all the themes brought forth in the song. None of this is to say the show was dour; even in the face of hard times, there are things to celebrate. An impromptu "Out in the Street" closed the main set, with the band scrambling to switch instruments for the audibled song after "Badlands." The encores saw a few more guests join the band on stage. After having watched the entire show from the pit, guitarist Bobby Bandiera (of the Asbury Jukes, lately touring with Bon Jovi) joined in for a rollicking "Ramrod," and Sessions Band members Marty Rifkin and Marc Anthony Thompson made an appearance on the show-closing "American Land." Prior to the encore opening "Girls in Their Summer Clothes," Bruce repeatedly called out for a response from all the "California girls" in the crowd, finally entreating, "Come on thrill me, I'm getting old!" Having witnessed a third outstanding show in four nights, I would have to disagree. SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA
Prayer Demythified by Brian Malone Before Saturday night, I had only seen Bruce perform in the traditional East Coast strongholds or in the Midwestern Rust Belt -- cities where there is a clear, organic connection between the songs and where they're being played. In San Jose, there is no Springsteen tradition: he hasn't played here regularly, no legendary shows took place here, and there isn't much of California in his lyrics (at least not Northern California). Moreover, San Jose seems antithetical to the Springsteen ethos, as a city of explosive growth that produces consequent feelings of rootlessness, a slick, shiny avatar of the new globalized technology economy. And Silicon Valley was out in force Saturday night at HP Pavilion, as videogame moguls filled the VIP seats and Apple CEO Steve Jobs showed up in the pit. Even so, as the houselights dimmed and a spotlit calliope rose from the back of the stage, plinking out a haunting circus tune, the arena became familiar Springsteen space, by turns carnival, tent revival, dance hall, protest rally, beach party, church service. No need for suspense: it was an excellent show. The set was well-chosen, the band sounded sharp, and Bruce was in excellent voice, especially as the show progressed. Interestingly, some of the strongest performances were songs from the new record. "Gypsy Biker" has received rave reviews from previous bloggers, and with good reason: the guitar work was scorching. Soozie's delicate harmony on "Magic" was bone-chilling, making that song one of the most powerful of the first half of the set. "Devil's Arcade" was stunning, both musically and visually: beginning with a beautifully hymnic organ line from Charlie Giordano and ending with a heartbeat tattoo on the drums as Max and his kit were illuminated in a vision of pure silver light. Several classics received inspired performances as well: Bruce's harmonica solo on "Prove It All Night" was pure sexy rock 'n' roll, and the guitar duet between Nils and Steven on "Promised Land" was masterful -- a display of two awesome talents. The only disappointment of the evening was an almost lackluster "Bobby Jean," which couldn't quite sustain the crowd enthusiasm following the ever-popular "Glory Days." As in other recent shows, Bruce took requests seriously. A local radio station poll resulted in a performance of "Fire," showcasing the easy rapport (both personally and vocally) between Bruce and Clarence (who now appropriately sits on a gilded throne when he isn't playing). Bruce audibled "Something in the Night" and "Detroit Medley" in response to signs (the latter song from a sign that read "Ain't Too Proud to Beg for Detroit Medley"). The pit swooned when Bruce picked up and then coyly revealed an "Incident, Por Favor" placard (although it was on the setlist anyway, I still want to offer a hearty "gracias" for it). Then there was the bald guy in the front who had Sharpied "Glory Days" on his shiny forehead. Bruce pulled him on stage and the band rewarded him with a rollicking version of his request. Even if the ink doesn't wash off for a week, I bet it was worth it. And while I suggested that there is no longstanding Bruce tradition in San Jose, that may not be entirely true: there was the sign that read "Bruce, you're my real dad!" Bruce's bemused response: "I was in these parts around 1969...." For me, the highlight of the show was "Incident." Many people have tried to explain Bruce's appeal by talking about identification, suggesting that his songs represent their personal experiences and that he is singing the stories of their lives. While I have no doubt this is true for many fans, this doesn't capture my relationship to his music. On Saturday night, when I put my arms around my boyfriend and swayed as Bruce told the story of Spanish Johnny and Puerto Rican Jane, I wasn't reliving an experience from my youth. Rather, I was living someone else's youth, finding a way into experiences that I never had. And that's pretty remarkable. Several hours earlier, as we waited in line outside the arena to be admitted to the pit, two street preachers harangued the line. Using a bullhorn, they preached brimstone and damnation for all of us who do not sufficiently fear god (and singled out "queers" as particularly worthy of eternal torment). It was tempting, during the show, to hear "Reason to Believe" as a rebuttal to this kind of fundamentalism. That song was powerful as always, but now performed in a Texas rock arrangement coupled with occasional snatches of aggressive distortion-mic vocals, the song is a strange mix: atheism at a roadhouse. But I think the better response to people like those preachers would be an affirmation of the experience I had at the concert that night during songs like "The Promised Land," "Badlands," or "The Rising." These are songs about faith -- not necessarily faith in God, but faith as a human experience that may (but also may not) allow one to live in the face of loss and horror. Borrowing a term from a philosopher, I consider these songs to be examples of "prayer demythified," prayers that don't fit into religious doctrine and that do not necessarily even have an addressee. This is the recognition that the act of prayer has a human meaning, even in the possible absence or inaccessibility of God. During these songs, when Bruce, lit from below, raised his hand above his head, many of us in the crowd matched the gesture. For me, this is a true experience of prayer -- joining with my community to offer a sincere prayer for faith, for hope, and for love. SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA Party Time! By Jon Greer Driving up the interstate to Sacramento from the San Francisco Bay Area, it was hard not to think about the last time we made this trip -- almost exactly five years ago, on April 9, 2003. The day Baghdad fell.
Bruce had just returned from two weeks of shows in Australia, and the war had started in his absence from American soil. That historic day was his first chance to comment, and he did so with a passionate opening trio of songs: "Born in the U.S.A." (acoustic, just Bruce on the 12-string, angrily pounding out the tune), followed by "Who'll Stop the Rain" and "No Surrender." It was a classic artistic reaction to current events, and it left little doubt where Bruce stood on the decision to go to war and its consequences. The first leg of the Magic tour also left little doubt about Bruce's point of view. I felt that the setlist and his furious performances reflected an intense anger about the current state of affairs and his sense of powerlessness. Gone, for instance, was the prayerful "Land of Hope and Dreams," replaced as the show closer by the ironic "American Land" with its false hopes and foolish dreams. Bruce's apparent loss of hope was a big shock, and it left me conflicted about those shows. I'd always turned to Bruce for his unyielding message of hope amid despair, but on the first leg, he seemed to have precious little hope to offer. And if Bruce Springsteen had lost hope, I wondered, what hope was there for the rest of us? So as much as I would have never missed an opportunity to see Bruce perform near my hometown, I approached Arco Arena with some trepidation. I wasn't sure if I was prepared to live in a world in which I couldn't count on Bruce Springsteen to lift me up. It was clear that things had changed with Max's opening snare shot, the beginning of the playful teenage love song, "Spirit in the Night." Right from the start, Bruce was much more of his old, loose self -- mugging for the audience, shaking hands, smiling and laughing and generally having a blast. During his intro to "Livin' in the Future," Bruce briefly signaled the likely reason for his better mood, making reference to "eight years coming to an end" -- clearly meaning the two terms of the Bush Administration. Bruce Springsteen, I thought, had found something new to hope for: better days in a post-Bush America and world. Bruce also clued us in that this show would be about partying as much as anything when he explained Patti's absence. She was home guarding the house, he said, where "beer kegs were rolling up the driveway, pot brownies were in the oven and a Girls Gone Wild bus was pulling up" as he was headed to the plane that would take him to California. Ah, youthful innocence! That was just the elixir for a rocker who'd seen too much. So it was no surprise when Bruce pulled out another classic party song, the frat rocker "Sherry Darlin'" (during which, in a performance decades before, he had told the guys in the audience that it was okay to throw up in their girlfriends' purses if they needed to). During the encores. he also happily took the suggestion from a sign-holder to "let Rosie come out tonight" and subbed the cathartic "Ramrod" for the setlisted "Glory Days". I left Arco Arena feeling much better about Bruce's state of mind regarding our country and the world. Bruce had found something new to hope for: a fresh start for our country and the world. Party on! VANCOUVER, BC
Mama Tried by Chris Corson My 76-year-old Mom & I had driven to Portland and Seattle, and now for our third and final stop of the tour, it was our hometown show in Vancouver. Due to unexpected traffic on the way to GM Place we made it with little more than five minutes to spare to get a wristband for the lottery... but we made it and got lucky, too, landing a spot in the pit. My husband and my 79-year-old Dad were in seats about eight rows up from where we were standing. It was a great all-around show in Vancouver with a few shake-ups. "None But the Brave"! Good choice. The new Magic songs were some of the highlights for us, too, and I love the ZZ Top-ified version of "Reason to Believe." My Mom had a blast as usual at the concert, and I could see several people noticing her singing and dancing along to all the songs -- including Bruce! He apparently remembered his dancing partner from Vancouver 2003, and during "Dancing in the Dark" he was looking for a way to get her onstage. Unfortunately, in preparation for the show ending, security had moved/locked the side barriers so there was no good way up. So, no reprise for Mom. Oh well... All in all a great trifecta of Northwest shows -- though we were sad that Patti wasn't there, we missed her stage presence for sure. I have to say, we loved the upbeat "American Land" ending to the show. Since Bruce skipped the entire Northwest on the Seeger Sessions tour, we missed out on that music live in concert... it sounds like a lot of fun! The Shame of British Columbia by Christine Hess There's nothing worse for a Bruce fan than leaving a show without a ticket to another show in your pocket. That's the situation I was in after the phenomenal show-for-the-ages that was Saturday night in Seattle (did you hear we got "Trapped?"). I got to work Monday morning and had an email waiting from Linda, a woman I met in a GA line during the Rising tour: "I wish I were going tonight." Those six little words were the genesis of yet another Bruce adventure. Next came a mad quest for tickets followed by a last-minute dash home for my passport and a run for the border. I guess some Mondays you go home and watch Dancing with the Stars, and some Mondays you go to Canada! Okay, now I know three concerts in four days seems excessive to the uninitiated. Yes, my coworkers think I'm a nutter, and my friends roll their eyes. I know I'm a bit of a freak. I know this. (By the way, if you're reading this, chances are you're a little bit of a freak, too.) That's why I like going to the shows: I'm among "my people." They get it! And there's always a whole bunch of people who are way bigger fanatics than I am, so I seem normal by comparison! It's fun to sit around chatting about our "first time," our favorite songs and so much more.... "I heard they soundchecked 'Downbound Train' in Seattle -- think they'll play it?" So I went to Vancouver with the expectation of another crowd of Springsteen groupies that was ready to rock. Our seats were incredible, in the first section in front of the stage. From there I could see those Bay Area girls I'd met in the pit in Seattle -- they hit the lottery again and were waving to me from front and center. So lucky! The lights dimmed and the band took the stage at 8:15, launching right into "Atlantic City." Another tour premiere! Linda and I were singing our hearts out. But we were the only people in our section standing. Whaah?? "IS ANYBODY ALIVE OUT THERE?" Um, no, not really. Not in Vancouver. Well, maybe sort of. Occasionally. Surely the place will erupt with "Radio Nowhere?" Not so much. "No Surrender"! Still, we're the only ones on our feet. Instead of communing with other fans, we were blocking their view. We were dancing, and the couple seated next to us looked at us like we were crazy. And we weren't even the crazy dancers -- you know, like the guys down on the floor rockin' the air guitar like they're on stage. (Every show has those guys. I love them.) And oh, yeah - someone nearby had some pretty pungent weed and they were hitting it hard all night. It was pretty funny -- every time we caught a whiff, that couple next to us looked around scowling. Marijuana! At a concert! (In Vancouver!) Shocking! One of those Bay Area girls had commented to me that when a crowd isn't into it, Bruce just works harder. He was pulling out all the stops trying to get some life out of this group. Back and forth he went, yelling for people to "Stand up!" There were pockets of fans around the arena who got into the spirit. The pit was on fire. But there was still a lot left to be desired. Asking for some help with the chorus on "Sunny Day" he said, "Pathetic! The shame of British Columbia!" He was joking, but the man had a point. During "Long Walk Home," after enjoining the crowd to sing along on "Hey pretty darling, don't wait up for me" and getting a most lackluster response, he went back to his center mic, laughing and shaking his head like, "Well, I tried." But the show was great. Two tour premieres and "Trapped" again. Love that! When we heard the tell-tale organ notes, we lost our minds, squealing like high school girls. "The River" was a treat. "The Rising" is one of my favorite songs and, after three nights, I was finally able to put my finger on what was missing. Duh. Patti! Her vocals add an ethereal quality to that song that was missed, and I look forward to her return. Finally, at the end of the main set, the crowd roared to life for "Badlands." "Rosalita" didn't get half the reception it did in Seattle, but Bruce had a blast with it anyway, and we danced our asses off. The whole band looked like they were having a grand time. It's always a party on E Street. Any night with Bruce and the E Street Band is a night well spent, even if it means two stops at customs and twice as long on the road as at the show. While trying to stay awake at my desk |
