Check out the video clip. And, yes, tonight Milwaukee got "Good evening, Ohio," too. Guess he needs to write a new song. Call it "In Ohio." I even have lyrics he can use. He wrote 'em in Kalamazoo, Ohio.
Bruce Finds His Place (The Palace, November 13, 2009)
When I was growing up in New Jersey, the state had a bit of an identity crisis. It was the suburb of New York and Philadelphia. When the Giants and Cosmos moved in to Giants Stadium, they kept "New York" as part of their name. Bruce Springsteen helped change things for us; from his very first album he proclaimed himself to be a New Jersey man.
Michigan, on the other hand, is a big state with no history of being someone else's suburb; Bruce has played here at least once every year since 2002. Imagine, then, Bruce coming onstage and greeting the crowd with a salute to Ohio! And then sticking Ohio in to the lyrics of "Wrecking Ball"; of course, a Michigan audience tends not to object too much to lines such as, "tonight Ohio is going down in flames." Finally, Bruce put Ohio in to the story for "Working on a Dream." This last actually managed to get a few boos, and prompted Stevie to inform Bruce that they were, in fact, in Michigan (Bruce took it well, and periodically shouted out, "Where Am I?" throughout the evening after that to get a rousing Detroit answer).
Fortunately, while Bruce was forgetting where he was, he wasn't forgetting how to put on a magnificent show. By the conclusion of Nils's indendiary twirling solo at the end of the evening's second song, "Prove It All Night," it was already clear that Bruce and the band were intent on taking no prisoners.
Several notable things have changed on this latest tour, as compared to prior tours: 1) Bruce used a rear riser and crowd surfing during "Hungry Heart"; 2) The set includes of a full album -- usually "Born to Run," early in the setlist 3) Audience members bringing signs, with some signs being accepted as song requests 4) De-emphass of the current album
All of these changes had the effect, tonight, of drawing the audience more in to the show. The use of the read riser and the crowd surfing literally puts Bruce face to face -- or closer -- with several hundred fans. And I confess that I had contact... with Bruce's right shoe. Nice shoe, very sturdy.
Not that all of the changes are necessarily for the better. I'd have preferred to hear more content from "Working On a Dream" than just the title song, for example. That said, the crowd responded well to the show, and was as loud as any crowd I have ever heard at The Palace.
The performance of the "Born to Run" album was spot on. The songs were crisp, impassioned, and uniformly attacked, hard. Even "Meeting Across the River," which was enhanced by trumpeter Curt Ramm's playing.
The accepted requests had a distinctive Michigan flavor, first with Bob Seger's "Ramblin' Gamblin' Man" (played one time previously, also at the Palace, back on August 18, 1992), and then with the Detroit Medley. Bruce started "Ramblin' Gamblin' Man" by playing the distinctive opening keyboard riff on guitar, and with that started a 3-pack dance party right in the middle of the set, with Bruce playing guitar slinger throughout. By the end of Bruce's blistering solo in "Because the Night" -- during which Bruce proved he could blow a snot rocket and play a guitar solo at the same time --- my voice was gone, my hearing was shot, and my legs were jell-o. He's a freaking force of nature, is all I can say... and that band is pretty damn good these days.
Show highlights including a roaring version of "Johnny 99" early on (perhaps a bit of a reference to the state of the auto industry), and also a thundering performance of "Born in the U.S.A." During "Rosalita," Bruce handed the mic to Steve at the beginning of the 2nd verse and Steve survived it, as Bruce went to check something side stage (maybe the woman who stole the spotlight during "Dancing in the Dark" by jumping on stage from the pit and dancing much too wildly). Finally, the closer, "Higher and Higher," which finally allowed Cindy Mizelle to get a bit of the spotlight, closed the show on a high.
10 years ago this weekend, I saw Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band play a pair of shows in Philadelphia to mark Bruce's 50th birthday. Tonight, Bruce joined Elvis Costello onstage for a taping of Elvis's show "Spectacle," at Harlem's Apollo Theater. Not so much to mark Bruce's 60th, but to have an evening of talk and music in an intimate setting.
First things first: The Apollo is as magnificent in person as its reputation. Beautiful theater in great shape, and with amazing acoustics. It felt like an honor just to be in the building -- a good thing, considering that my seats were in the last row all the way to the side.
"Spectacle" is Elvis Costello's talk/interview show. Apparently -- I don't have Sundance Channel so I have not seen it -- it is a one hour show, culled from a taping session that can last as long as 4 hours. Tonight's session came in just under 4 hours with a brief intermission, which I suppose would make it among Bruce's longest public appearances.
After some preliminary notes from a TV hostess about how to clap and behave for TV, Elvis Costello came on. He said some preliminary remarks, then brought on the Imposters and went in to an intense version of "Point Blank." A good start for the audience, though Elvis said that it wouldn't be airing. Then Elvis brought on the evening's first "surprise" guest, Nils Lofgren, and they played one of Nils's songs (alas, I no longer recall which one). Finally, as means of introducing Bruce, Elvis launched in to "She's the One" with a rap, but both Elvis and the band were sloppy with it, and it took probably 6 takes until they had it good enough. During the rap Elvis said many things about Bruce, including -- if I recall correctly -- the title for this note.
The interview... Well, let's face it, not many people were really there for the interview. Of all the talking, and probably close to 3 hours was talking, there was all of one question that produced a remotely interesting response, and that was when Bruce confessed that he had never been in the Apollo before, even as an audience member. Most of the interview covered ground that has been covered in many other interviews, often far more coherently. Elvis came across as stumbling -- despite huge TelePrompters that presumably were there to help him stay on point. When not merely rambling, he was often hopelessly gushing or begging. Not that it was a total loss; Bruce took a few openings to squeeze in one-liners, float a couple gentle rejoinders at Elvis for past things that Elvis said (but only what Elvis said about Bruce, and not, say, what Elvis once notoriously said about James Brown, not even when Brown's name came up in conversation). In one instance, Bruce worked in one of his hoary off-color variations of guy-meets-girl-in-bar jokes. Elvis did have an opportunity to say a few nice things about Patti.
The questions, such as they were, often focused on some concept of "social justice." Too often, Elvis would start a question topic and not really wait around for an answer -- on the obvious topic of literary influences, for example, the name Steinbeck wasn't uttered once (they did moderately better with movie influences). I'd like to report that Elvis asked Bruce penetrating questions about the creative processes of writing, rehearsing or performing music, or even about specific songs, but he didn't. On the rare occasion when such a topic appeared to be coming, Elvis often talked right through it without giving Bruce opportunity to respond (or worse, put in some gaffe that might end up being a 10-minute traverse so that Bruce could eventually give a gentle correction; this happened most humorously when Elvis goofed on the timing of the "Nebraska" album).
Case in point: In one sequence, Elvis talked about times he had played with Bruce, mentioning the Black & White Night with Roy Orbison, and the Grammy Award show performance honoring Joe Strummer. This meandered in to a recollection of another Grammy Award show in which The Weavers received a lifetime achievement award. From there it went to former Weaver Pete Seeger, a mention of The Seeger Sessions, and finally to Bruce playing with Pete before the inauguration. Though Bruce did manage to get in a word here and there (e.g., recollecting fan reaction to Black & White Night and even doing -- with Elvis -- a portion of "Oh Pretty Woman"), Elvis asked nothing about Strummer, nothing about The Seeger Sessions. The question ended up being, essentially, how old is Pete, and how awesome was it to play with him? It wasn't quite as cringe-inducing as the Jon Stewart debacle earlier this year, but it was definitely more yawn-inducing.
The music, on the other hand, more than made up for the interview's weakness. During the first set, when Elvis went on about how much a fan he'd been of the first two albums, Bruce played a spirited acoustic version of "Wild Billy's Circus Story," joined by Nils and also by Roy an accordion. Yes, I missed Danny. But it was still wonderful, with the stage bathed in green and orange lights as they played. Though Elvis's early interview seemed to trace through Bruce's early career and on to "Nebraska," the next song selection ended up being "American Skin (41 Shots)." This one took multiple takes, but Bruce was in fine voice and it ended up coming off great. "Galveston Bay" was a pleasant surprise, as well, and Bruce did an impomptu segment from "The River" that had the audience so wrapped up that there was an audible groan when he aborted. To close off the first half of the show -- and it was now 10:30, or nearly two and a half hours in -- Bruce and Elvis joined forces with the band to perform Sam & Dave's "I Can't Stand Up for Sitting Down," a song that Elvis had covered nearly 30 years ago on the "Get Happy" album. Bruce made a point of claiming Sam's part for the song, after also explaining why he thought Sam & Dave made such a good pair musically (maybe the highlight of Bruce's spoken bits; Bruce also made a point of rejecting hypotheticals when Elvis asked how big a star Sam Moore might have been solo).
During the show's 2nd half -- which didn't start until nearly 10:45 -- Elvis paid tribute to Patti. This led in to one of the better discussion segments, wherein Bruce spoke of family, children and music (the music part mostly coming later on in the show). But it also led to a georgeous version of Patti's "Black Ladder," with Elvis on lead vocal, accompanied by Bruce and Nils. Later in the 2nd half, Elvis took lead on "Brilliant Disguise," a song he covered several years ago. Bruce played a nice bit of backing guitar for it.
At the end, the band came out. With the 4 Imposters, and Bruce, Roy and Nils, it was a 7 piece band. They tore in to "The Rising," and absolutely smoked it. THis wasn't off-the-cuff; the arrangement was somewhat different than Bruce's standard for the ESB, and it was tight and fast. It was almost a shock, as in, "there is a rock song in there!" Then, "Seeds," and finally, a medley of "Radio Radio" and "Radio Nowhere" that had a few jaws dropping. It rocked. hard.
By then, it was pushing midnight, and I was almost thankful for the show to end; it was a race to make the last train back to New Jersey. Despite Elvis Costello's weaknesses as an interviewer, the show was great fun. And it was great fun without a single song from "Born to Run" or "Darkness on the Edge of Town"; of the songs played, only Bruce's first ("Wild Billy's Circus Song") was from the first portion of his Columbia career. Look for the performances when the show airs on Sundance.
I tried my best this year to avoid all of the Super Bowl hype. Sure, I've been watching them at least since Otis Taylor made mincemeat of Bud Grant's secondary, but I have long since grown tired of all the pre-game festivities. So, I tuned it out. Even with Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band finally on the bill as half-time performers, I did my best to ignore the details, paying only glancing attention to the interviews and none at all to reports from people at the rehearsals. I could be surprised live, along with most of the rest of the country.
When I thought of writing something, of course my reason was to write of Bruce performing. After all, one of the famous apocryphal stories of Bruce was of his former manager, Mike Appel, attempting to get Bruce on the bill for a Super Bowl pregame show, in part by dangling an otherwise unknown song called "Balboa vs. the Earth Slayer." That was in 1973. Bruce was releasing a new album two days before the big game, which was broadcast by NBC... and there the parallels end.
As Bruce became a superstar, there came to be a list of "Things That Bruce Would Never Do." These things have the mark of Integrity with many of us diehards. Bruce would never do TV commercials. Bruce would never accept corporate sponsorships of his tours. Bruce would never release a Greatest Hits album. Of course, some of the list of Things That Bruce Would Never Do, he did. So, when Bruce agreed to play the Super Bowl -- one of the things that inevitably ended up on the TTBWND list -- it wasn't really such a surprise. Nor even a disappointment. Mostly, as a fan it seemed a "concern," as in, could Bruce bring the feel of a show in just 12 minutes, and could he do it at a time when he wasn't touring?
Those questions are now answered, and I want to write about that, but as Dov Pilkey might write, before I write about that, first I'm going to write about this: That was one holy shit Super Bowl game, wasn't it? I'd not been paying too much attention to the NFL this year, but if there was one thing I knew, it was that the NFC West was the Worst Division In The History Of Major Sports. Which it probably was: The division, as a whole, went 9-31 against other teams in the NFL, including a putrid 3-7 by the Cardinals. And the Cards didn't lose cheap: They gave up 56 points to the Jets. Then, in the final 6 weeks of the regular season, they lost badly to the Giants at home, were mauled by the Eagles, steamrolled at home by the Vikings with a playoff seeding on the line, and then were completely annihilated by the Patriots. This was a bad team whose record was propped up 'cause it played in a historically bad division. It was wholly unworthy, yet somehow come playoff time the opposing quarterbacks all played like they had voodoo pins stuck in them. I'm still trying to decide who the impostor was who wore Jake Delhomme's uniform during the 2nd round playoff game was, surely Arizona had nothing to do with that.
So, I made it plain that, were I a betting man, I'd bet the house on Pittsburgh. The Steelers were a good team. This would redeem the rest of my "if I were a betting man" picks for the post-season, which, going in to the Super Bowl, were 1-10. Thank you, Steelers, for beating the Chargers, or I'd have been perfect.
We called over the in-laws and sat down to a game and a show. Missed all the pregame. No Bruce interview. Just sat down at 6 for the real deal. Saw Faith Hill, wearing way too much eye shadow, murder "America the Beautiful," and saw Jennifer Hudson do a splendid lip-synch to the national anthem. My father-in-law was convinced it was live. I assured him the halftime show would be live.
The first big commercial was for Bud Light, and it was fantastic. Guy gets thrown out window. Second big commercial was for Doritos. Boss gets turned in to a soprano. Hey, if ever there was going to be a release from the real world, tonight would be it. Ben Roethlisberger scored a touchdown that was overruled on replay, and somewhere in Seattle a TV set went through a window. The first quarter was played in less than a half hour of real time. But this was all warm-up, we had to eat and get back for Bruce.
James Harrison nearly wrecked the halftime show by a) making the greatest individual play in Super Bowl history on the final play before the half, and b) seemingly taking up the entire 12-minutes allotted to Bruce while doing it, with 10 minutes more to review the play and determine that yes, he really did score.
BOSS TIME!!
So, time to write about that now. Bruce took about, oh, 2.5 seconds to answer any doubts. Even from the initial silhouette of just Bruce and Clarence, it was clear the band was ready, willing, and definitely able to rock and roll all night... or 12 minutes, as the case may be (or 14, as my clock seemed to indicate). Players had pre-taped intros for the band, using paraphrases of Bruce's own intros dating back to the reunion tour. And now Bruce, with the horns, coming on the "10th Avenue FreezeOut," to start a microcosm of the party portion of a live show. Put down the nachos and chicken fingers! Slide into the camera! Ouch! And, hey, who said these songs really need second verses, anyway? "Born to Run" in the 2nd slot, and then... is that a huge choir for "Working on a Dream"? Is that the same choir he sang with at the holiday shows in Asbury Park? Wow, that was strange, weird and fast, but they sounded pretty good. Horns out front for "Glory Days," and I swear I saw Kingfish among them. Fireworks not just in the show, but as percussion instruments. Even the "delay of game" shtick worked, as did Bruce's changes to the "Glory Days" lyrics to substitute football for baseball and a Hail Mary, for that stupid speedball. The cameras mercifully spent little time on overzealous teenie-bopper fans -- and anyway, most of the fans they showed looked like the real deal. If I had one minor quibble, though, it's that I would have liked to have seen more of the full band. Steve sure seemed to have a great time. Bit from my one watching of it, I'd be hard pressed to say if Charlie Giordano was in attendance, and I'm not sure I actually spotted Nils Lofgren or Garry Tallent, either.
Bonus points, by the way, to anyone who can name another Springsteen song that references a "Hail Mary," without googling for it.
My father-in-law kept asking me to turn up the volume. That stereo system was the loudest I've had it in 15 years of owning this house. He still complained that he couldn't understand a single word. (and, yes, somehow I find myself thinking, "and maybe that's how it should be").
Bruce played THE guitar. So, as he was playing, I remarked, "that's THE guitar. I have touched that guitar." Which I did, in Toronto in 2002 when Bruce used it for "Thunder Road" and held it out to the pit near the end of the song.
Elianna, my 7-year old, looked at me with incredibly wide eyes. Obviously, she was impressed. She stammered a bit, seemingly searching for something to say. Finally, she found it:
"Dad, what's his middle name?"
Touchdown.
The 2nd half of the game was a true rarity: A series of events so riveting that they completely overshadowed the halftime performance. The Cardinals might have sucked down the stretch of the regular season, but they were superbly coached in this game. Huge play after huge play after huge play, on both sides, with finally an astonishing catch by Santonio Holmes to give Pittsburgh the last lead. And then we almost got that final Hail Mary, too... but it was fumbled away. No Glory Days for Kurt Warner tonight.
Whatever the hype was, however big it was... that surely lived up to it. All of it. The game, the halftime. Now, Bruce, about the other Things That Bruce Would Never Do... Bring 'em on!
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This morning I took the kids to school, getting in the car just at 8am. I had the radio tuned to Little Steven's Underground Garage. Elianna wanted XM Kids, of course, but as with most modern radios I had to turn the radio on before I could change the channel. I tuned in just to the opening chords of Buddy Holly's "Not Fade Away." And though I knew it was coming, it hit all at once: Today was the 50th anniversary of the day the music died, out near Clear Lake. "Not Fade Away" is maybe my all-time favorite Buddy Holly track, maybe because of that Bo Diddley beat, maybe because Bruce Springsteen played it during the first show I ever heard him live, in an utterly incendiary version of it (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rnUVfdpDXQ0 for that performance; I was stuck listening to it on the radio in my bedroom). The Rolling Stones had their first hit with their cover of "Not Fade Away". Bob Dylan played it. So did The Byrds. The Grateful Dead turned it into a 10-minute audience sing-along. Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers performed it, as did Patti Smith. But no one can touch the original.
I kept it on Underground Garage. For two minutes, Daddy controlled the radio. The steering wheel doubled as a drum kit during the guitar solo. I told the kids about the day the music died, but I'm not sure they understood. When it was over, and the next song came on and it wasn't another Buddy Holly song, I turned it to XM Kids. Just in time for The Hampster Dance. The music really has died.
Bruce Springsteen's "Working On a Dream" is due to be released on January 27. It finally leaked all over the internet today, so I've spent an some time with it this evening.
Some of the early chatter I heard for this album was pretty bad. So... it's, it's, it's not as bad as that. How 'bout that? There are a few high points, and maybe at this point that should be enough.
From the beginning. ok, there's "Outlaw Pete." What is this thing? I listen, and for whatever reason I'm hearing "Funeral for a Friend" or some such. But while I suppose a song can repeat the same 5 notes over and over and over, and over and over and over again and again and again, and be interesting and good ("Born in the USA," for example), "Outlaw Pete," isn't. At least not yet. To me. On first listen I don't really take in the lyrics, but with a terrible clunker in the 2nd verse ("a mustang pony he did steal," ick!), I imagine I won't be thrilled when I see the full lyrics sheet. So it's fast here, slow there, violins one place and guitars another, here an echo and there the voice bared, and I gotta say I don't much care for the experiment.
But after 8 minutes of that, "My Lucky Day" came roaring in as a great relief, just 4 minutes of straight-forward rock. I was glad my iTunes was set to truncate the between-song time by two seconds, the effect was wonderful. This is maybe the most "E Street" track on the album. Here's Steve Van Zandt singing harmony on the 2nd verse. And now here comes Danny Federici's organ (I assume; I hadn't checked the album credits but that's him, it can't be otherwise), in the perfect place as an old friend should be. And Clarence Clemons, with his one brief shining moment on the album. I don't even have to hear the words, it's my lucky day.
"Working on a Dream" is, for me, the wrong song for the wrong time. It's working on a cliche, but in the context of the album I don't cringe quite so much. By now I'm starting to wonder why Bruce is singing in the upper register on every song. just seems so strained there.
The rest? "Queen of the Supermarket" is a wacky 4th cousin once removed of "I Wanna Marry You" and "Jersey Girl," not that Bruce impresses me as the Shop-Rite type. It's a seeming Dusty Springfield take-off, at least until it all strangely falls apart in the final minute, first with a gratuitous lyric and then a musical departure to parts unknown. Is that a scanner? Oh, well. "What Love Can Do" must be forgettable, because I have forgotten it. But now it rolls around again as I'm writing... what is that, Beau Brummels? Maybe he could play this one live.
The nods continue with "This Life," with "Pet Sounds"-era Beach Boys being the reference. "Good Eye" is a throw-away blues featuring the bullet mike. But Bruce pulls it off so seemingly effortlessly that I find myself wishing for an album of blues throwaways. The lead-in to "Tomorrow Never Knows" reminds me a bit of CCRs "Lookin' Out My Back Door," and is nearly as sweet. The solo in "Life Itself" is interesting enough, either backwards or at least made to sound that way. The 12-string seems a nod to "Eight Mile High" era Byrds, but the music reminds more of Bruce's own "Missing." "Kingdom of Days" and "Surprise, Surprise" sound more or less like "Magic" outtakes. Kingdom has Bruce's first "I love you I love you I love you I do" chorus while channeling a bit of "Girls in Their Summer Clothes." Beatlish flourishes accent "Surprise, Surprise"; I suppose it's nice to have Bruce sing his very own happy happy birthday song to sing, with Patti joining in at the end.
"The Last Carnival" is nearly worth the price of admission to the midway. An instant tear-jerker, with Danny Federici cast in to the role of darling Wild Billy. It's over too fast.
The bonus track, "The Wrestler," is the prize winner... literally now. Maybe the greatest song ever about people and animals missing various limbs.
It'd be a nice thought that Bruce could still come up with something new, rather than nods to this and references to that. Maybe he still can. In the meantime, this isn't so awful, is it?
A year ago today I flew back from Philadelphia, having spent an exorbitant amount of money to see my first show on the Magic tour, my first show since my dad passed a month earlier. The E Street Band had its full original line-up, and played in an arena named for the mighty Wachovia Bank. It was 80 degrees outside, pool weather. The market crash had not yet begun, and the election was still more than a year off.
Fast forward to a somewhat cool Michigan day, coming on the heels of the first two days of the fall frost. My back was a bit sore after a couple hours working the fruit trees on Saturday and then the round trip to Columbus yesterday, and the cool weather wasn't much helping. In contrast to the perfect warm fall Sunday in Columbus, Monday shaped up to be cool and damp in Michigan. And the show itself wouldn't be much easier to make: in order to arrange it, I had to move one meeting forward, do another one on the phone, drive 25 miles one way to pick up Lori, and 40 more another way to get to Eastern Michigan's baseball stadium. And, with tickets being free but hard to find -- I had to drive 30 miles to Canton last Friday to pick up a pair -- I was fielding calls from friends much of the weekend.
We arrived at 3pm, just as the crowd was beginning to be allowed in to the stadium. Oestrike Stadium can charitably be described as... in need of a paint job. The outfield grass was fine, anyway, and that's all that really mattered. There were far fewer early arrivals than yesterday, so our 3pm arrival netting us a position directly in front of the stage, about 12 deep.
The warm-up today included two acts who have performed in local venues over the years; we enjoyed seeing Kitty Donohoe, who is one of our local faves. The president of Eastern Michigan University said a few words, but neglected to tell the audience who she was. Someone who I presume to be University Chaplain led a prayer; as with the prayer yesterday in Columbus, it explicitly referred to Jesus. Unlike in Columbus, though, today's reference brought audible groans in the area where I was standing. So, score one for Ypsilanti, and I ask a question: Why is it necessary to bring Jesus F. Christ in to these rallies? I understand saying the pledge, even with the God line, but why make them explicitly Christian like that?
Debbie Dingell got up and provided the unintentional comic relief of the afternoon. After making a reference to Bruce, thus producing a few "Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuce" yells from the crowd, Dingell said, approximately, "none of that! Think positive thoughts!" She was serious. She was also screaming. After that, many of those who weren't literally holding their hands over their ears would take any pause as an opportunity to yell "Bruuuuuce," finally prompting Dingell to yell out, "Stop it with this negativity!" I'm pretty sure I was crying at this point; I'll note that DIngell did finally figure out that no one was literally booing, I think the gales of laughter might have been her clue. Congressman John Dingell spoke, too, though I can't recall quite what he said. Finally, some local organizers spoke, and introduced Bruce.
The Promised Land
Bruce got up, announced he couldn't spell Ypsilanti, and launched in to the set. Structurally, it was the same as in Columbus, which I expected. I was ready with my good camera this time, as well as the video camera. Lori says he sounded a little hoarse, but he sounded fine to me.
The setlist, first 3 songs: The Promised Land The Ghost of Tom Joad Thunder Road
The Ghost of Tom Joad Bruce plays "Thunder Road" as photographers line the grassy knoll
Today's wild-card entry was a spirited rendition of "Devils and Dust"; expecting the wild-card there, I was ready with the video camera for it... and dutifully put it down for what I expected would be "No Surrender." Bruce called for a capo. I thought, "why does Bruce need a capo for 'No Surrender'"? Bruce started the song, and I thought again, "I don't remember 'No Surrender' starting like this yesterday." Then Bruce sang, "My little sister's in the front seat," and I thought, "ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, shit! Get the fucking camera back out!!" I guess I won't video very many shows, but at least I did get Bruce telling all the neighbors to fuck off. In any case, "Used Cars" was a special treat, the kind of moment that makes even an 8-song set worth the trip.
Devils & Dust
Used Cars
The setlist, final 5 songs: Devils & Dust Used Cars No Surrender The Rising This Land is Your Land
No Surrender
Public Service Announcement
The PSA seemed to me a little more restrained than yesterday, and the crowd somewhat smaller -- though it's hard to tell on a large baseball field -- and more subdued than yesterday. The sun finally came out during the PSA, just in time for "The Rising." It was like a miracle glow that fell on Bruce, and the crowd definitely noticed. Bruce closed with the "Yes We Can" chant again and "This Land Is Your Land," using a tune that to me is the same as the one he once used for "Nebraska." When Bruce got to the line "When the sun came shining," he got one of the afternoon's louder cheers.
After the show, Bruce spent some time shaking fans' hands along the side fence of the stadium, probably for 10-15 minutes. All photographs and video for this blog entry by Matthew Orel
Bruce at The Ohio State University (October 5, 2008)
I'm a sucker for going to see Bruce shows... even if they're far away and not really full shows.
Today's performance at The Main Oval at The Ohio State University was one of 3 scheduled performances over this weekend, coinciding with voter registration drives in battleground states. Yesterday's was in Philadelphia, and tomorrow's will be in Ypsilanti.
It was a beautiful Sunday, and for a change I had had no plans at all. Columbus is a 3 hour drive, and with the concert scheduled for 4:30, I could easily make it a day trip. For less than a tankful of gas (tickets being free), I could get a bit of a Bruce fix (and see Chris and Bryon). And so I did.
Also, a bit of a difference from normal Bruce concerts in that there was no prohibition on photographic equipment, so what the heck, I brought a camera.
As for the show... er... rally: The line-up to get in stretched around a couple campus buildings by the time we got there. Not really all that many people, it just seemed that way. Waiting out on the oval after being admitted was a little like waiting in the pit for a show to begin... only instead of sitting on floorboards over ice, we were on real grass, with sun in our faces. That is, it didn't suck.
Although the rally was billed for 4:30, the speakers started well before then. Two Ohio congressional candidates spoke, as did the mayor of Columbus. All spoke reasonably well, if usually predictably on substance. The Columbus mayor got in a zinger by referring to last Thursday's debate between "Senator Biden and Tina Fey." John Glenn came out to say a few words, and then he said he lost the lottery to introduce Bruce and so he turned it over to... contest winners. It was pretty weird. Eventually, it went back to Glenn to introduce Bruce.
Bruce seemed in good spirits, and he started off with a bit of a joke, playing the chorus to "Hey, Mr. Spaceman" (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bs2NNUCDzis&feature=related for a weird little lip-sync video of the Byrds version) for Senator Glenn, and then launching in to his 45-minute set. The setlist was:
Hey, Mr. Spaceman (chorus only) The Promised Land The Ghost of Tom Joad Thunder Road No Surrender The Rising This Land Is Your Land
The Ghost of Tom Joad was a powerhouse, played uptempo and with conviction. Bruce made several references to the importance of Ohio and to his own history there, even referencing a 1972 concert in which he opened for Sha-Na-Na. But he saved his most powerful remarks for the Public Service Announcement, in which he stated forcefull how he wanted his country and his dreams -- our shared dreams -- back. That 1000 George W. Bushes and 1000 Dick Cheney couldn't tear down what this country should be: "America remains a repository of peoples hopes, possibilities, and desires, and despite the terrible erosion to our standing around the world, we remain, for many people, a house of dreams. And one thousand Goerge Bushes and one thousand Dick Cheneys will never be able to tear that house down." Get the full text off the internet downloads, it's worth it.
This Land Is Your Land -- with the steeple/people verse -- was bracketed by a rally chant of "Yes, We Can!"
No, I wasn't there. I was up in my bedroom 20 miles away from Passaic's Capitol Theater, 7 months from having a driver's license, alone with my combo radio/tape recorder, listening quietly for the first time to Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band play live. I had gotten in to Bruce the summer before... well, the summer before the summer before. But here was the lawsuit, and the endless wait for the album. Now, finally, there were concerts, and WNEW had announced this one. ON THE RADIO. WNEW was kinda like Bruce radio at that time, a seeming bastion of sanity in the disco wasteland. They'd had a midnight playing of Darkness the night before it was released... which of course I taped off the radio. But now, 'round 'bout Labor Day, they said, "special announcement at 9pm!," and so I tuned in. Special announcement -- Bruce, in concert, on the radio! September 19, and don't miss it! I waited it out, I don't know how... maybe by watching the Yankees beat up the Red Sox. But finally, the night arrived.
There were many little highlights for me. The WNEW DJs hyping it up. The Bruuuuuuuuuucing that came from the crowd. Bruce changing the day of the week to Tuesday (or whatever the hell night it was) and leading a call and response during "Spirit in the Night." Taking gifts from the audience... socks and underwear... an Islanders jersey. Just that general feeling of non-stop excitement, something even bigger than that summer's pennant chase; I didn't watch the game that night, not even on mute (must not have been on TV), but I remember Bruce asking for the score.
I had been getting in to the Darkness album, sometimes playing along on my harmonica. I had decided that "Racing in the Street" was basically "Thunder Road" turned upside down and so if I was just doodling by myself I'd play 'em together. I had nooooo idea, but I could basically have been wiped off the floor when Bruce played 'em together that night.
The WNEW guys warned that Bruce might play stuff that wasn't released. There were only two that night, at least only two new original ones, but I studied 'em hard. The next day in the school cafeteria, that would be the debate: "Independence Day" or "Point Blank"? "Point Blank" got most of the votes.
There was a halftime interview, recorded a couple nights earlier at the Palladium. Bruce talked about it being show 86 out of 95, or some such, and said he was sorry he didn't get to play down "home home," except there weren't many venues there. Maybe the Arts Center. He said he'd like to play the Arts Center. Said it with a strange Massachusetts accent, too, I was wonder how he could say "Arts" like that, that kinds of mangling was the province of my Boston-native father.
My tape deck was having problems; it crapped out during the interview but I started again for the 2nd set, then it crapped out again right at the start of the guitar solo in "Kitty's Back." I spent the next, oh... 18 months or more trying to find someone -- anyone -- who had taped it. (I finally bought the Piece de Resistance CD more than a decade later when I was living in Milan) I still have my own tapes downstairs, they are relics now... still with my handwriting on 'em, now 30 years old.
The concert went on and on and on, it seemed like it wouldn't ever end... not that I cared. He started playing stuff I didn't know, and I just wished I had somehow been able to go. It'd be another two and a half years before I'd get to see it in person, and by that time Bruce and the band played only arenas. But, the first time? On the radio. 30 years ago, tonight.
My report from the Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band concert in Cincinnati, March 22, 2008, as published on the official Bruce Springsteen website.
At just about 10:30 p.m. on Saturday, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band left the stage, having just completed "American Land" before a nearly packed house at U.S. Bank Arena in Cincinnati. The crowd was loud and had been on its feet -- even back in section 201-- for nearly the entire show. But, even before Springsteen was off the stage, the house lights were on. At barely two hours, the show was over. On the floor, some long-time fans were apoplectic. What the #%&!? Anyone with an internet connection knew that, in the prior two shows, fans had been treated to incredible guest appearances. Not that anyone expected anything like that again, but here we were, on a Saturday night, with a phenomenal crowd, and it was already over?
Sure, we'd collected a bunch of moments. An unusual (and unrushed) opener of "Darlington County." Consecutive audibles by Bruce, the first shouted out to Max and Garry during "Reason to Believe" to follow with "Candy's Room," and then for "Prove It All Night." An incendiary, wailing, gun-slinging, foot-stomping (literally) solo by Nils Lofgren to punctuate "Prove It All Night." An audience scan for signs, leading to a relatively rare performance of "Be True." Following that, a show-stopping "Lost in the Flood" before the final five songs of the main set. And, as likely captured on YouTube already, an encore dance with Hannah during "Dancing in the Dark." Still, I couldn't escape the feeling that Bruce rushed the band through the final hour of the show as if he were late for the plane.
Not that the performance suffered too much from the breakneck pace. Clarence sounded great. Charlie Giordano fit right in, adding his own textures from Danny's spot. Patti wasn't there (Bruce's explanation, as it were, included a terribly lame joke about dealing with the kids and the hash brownies back home), so Soozie helped out with "Magic." If anything, the themes of death, life, despair, faith and hope that run through the set, and the final sequence starting with "Devil's Arcade," were amplified by the pace. The playing was nearly flawless, and Bruce's voice was in fine form. And that solo from Nils on "Prove It All Night" -- put that one on brucespringsteen.net, please! If it was Bruce's intent to keep the audience out of breath and begging for more, it worked.
But just as fast as all the songs had been, that's how fast it was all over. Or so it seemed.
The techs came out to gather the equipment, with the roadies to follow to take down the stage. That was it. Some fans filed out, some celebrated the evening, and some, well, were asking "What the #%&!?"
That's when the roar went up from behind the stage, as Bruce and the band re-appeared -- with the house lights still on -- to re-take the stage. Fans rushed back to their seats, equipment was plugged back in, techs were sent scrambling. "Kitty's Back" was a lovely mess, with Max flubbing some of the opening beats, Clarence's tech struggling with the Big Man's neck strap, and an extended guitar solo from Bruce. They gave 'em a helluva time. And left 'em wanting more.
Burst Just Like a SuperNova (Cleveland, November 4, 2007)
One great thing about seeing many Bruce Springsteen shows is, the next show just could be the best yet. It's one of those euphoric feelings that comes from sharing the space during one of those evenings when all I can say is, "he's on fire." Tonight was one of those nights.
As I was in General Admission, I arrived early for the "pit lottery." And, since the arena is connected by an indoor walkway to my hotel, I left my jacket behind.
The walkway was closed, the lottery was outside, I was wearing a t-shirt, and though it was reasonably nice out, it was still November in Cleveland.
Just behind me in the line was a man with 3 young girls, ages 9, 10 and 12 ("almost 13," she said). They had made signs and the oldest had one rolled up in her pocket, so I asked them to show me. The best of them said, "Dance With Me." There were 1100 people lined up for 250 pit spots, I had no jacket and the temperature was dropping.
Bruce playing "Girls in Their Summer Cloths" in Cleveland, November 4, 2007
The setlist was a powerhouse. Attack, attack, attack. Perhaps the only exception being the rap leading in to "Livin' in the Future." Every song just sizzled, from the very beginning. "Radio Nowhere" and "Night" set the tone, and it went from there. "It's So Hard to be a Saint in the City" was incendiary, with a guitar duel between Bruce and Steve that surpassed their duel just a few songs earlier in "Gypsy Biker." As that song reached its climax, with Bruce signaling Max with head nods and going ever faster and harder, the folks near me were going in to a frenzy. The band didn't quite get the ending… but no really cared.
The middle of the set featured a "women's section," starting with Patti taking lead for he song "Town Called Heartbreak" (from her album "Play it as it Lays," which I'd recommend to anyone). Patti seemed to be in a very good mood, and her interactions on stage with Bruce almost had me wishing for them to go get a room already… except that it'd interrupt the concert. Then, "Tunnel of Love," again featuring some strong Patti harmonies. And, a tour premiere of "Be True," maybe the first time since it was part of the "Tunnel of Love Express" setlist. By the end of the song, Bruce was egging on Clarence to play his solo as it was on the original b-side; every time Clarence would play, there Bruce would be, saying, "play a high one!," until Clarence relented and played one (and got it, too).
Whether Bruce's message reached the audience, I can't be sure. Too many were just having too good a time.
"Kitty's Back" sparked the encores, and, after "Born to Run," it was time for "Dancing in the Dark." The girls were front and center (yes, we "won" the lottery!). He saw the sign. Cameras were ready… and… no dance (if he had danced with them, it would have been posted by now). Judging from their smiles afterwards, I think they were ok with that.
It seems my last blog entry got noticed at Harp Magazine. Which means a couple things:
Traffic went up; more than 100 visitors found the way via that magazine
I get to see how other writers interpret what I had to say.
The piece starts like this: Springsteen’s New Magic Album Leaked In Its Entirety Online Fred Mills September 7, 2007
Despite stringent security precautions on the part of Columbia Records to keep Bruce Springsteen’s new album Magic under wraps until its official Oct. 2 release date, as of this morning MP3s of the entire album were flying around the Internet faster than you could say “Rosie, come out tonight!”
Twelve songs in all had been posted to various websites or file-sharing services—one of them, “Terry’s Song,” about Springsteen’s late friend Terry Magovern, is reportedly a track that isn’t on the album and will presumably turn up as a bonus or a B-side.
In short order, the bloggers ground into action:
At the Matt Orel “Orel Family” blog a fairly in-depth, and somewhat critical, review of the album was posted.
ok, "fairly in-depth," I like that. And I guess it was "somewhat critical," though overall I do like what I've heard on the first 4-5 listens.
Mostly, I was relating the nearly... ahem... magical timing of this material becoming available, to where I was personally in the immediate aftermath of my father's passing. Of course, Bruce has dealt with death throughout his career, whether directly (e.g., recent songs "Silver Palomino" and "Terry's Song") or more generally (e.g., at least 2-3 songs probably on every album). And there's always an aspect to carrying on, despite that darkness: Gonna be a twister to blow everything down that ain't got the strength/faith to stand its ground. That's what this week is for, in my tradition, and I can relate to that. Even if the new album wasn't quite all I hoped it would be on first listen.
I should note one more item about my first listens to Magic: Listening to mp3s on poor speakers is always a risky proposition. I transferred over to a more respectable system yesterday, and noticed that the compression on the mp3s was very noticeable. I expect it will sound much, much better on the official release.
I’m sitting here, trying to come to terms. So far as grieving goes, I’m somewhere between denial, anger and acceptance right now. Part of me wants to yell at my dad, “how could you have done this?” but then I remind myself that he’s the one who’s gone. People coming and going from the same house where I grew up. So many of the appliances and furnishings and even wall hangings have remained unchanged from the 1960’s. Everything’s the same. Some of the kids I went to elementary school with, I’ve seen their parents these last 3 days. Or the kids, some of them still live in town, some of them came back. There are too many desserts. Way too many. More keep coming in, and we can’t keep up, and there’s one less person eating them, anyway. Cousins I haven’t seen in 20 years, super 8 movies to thread for the first time ever (dad always did that), we can all see ourselves from happier times in 1968.
As I write, washing over me are the sounds of “Long Walk Home,” a track from the soon-to-be-released album Magic, by Bruce Springsteen. Hey pretty darling, don’t wait for me, it’s gonna be a long walk home. It’s a throwback album, something like what he might have made after the Gary US Bonds albums of the early ‘80’s, almost. The album isn’t due out until October, but it leaked this afternoon, and it’s been some time since I’ve needed a tonic quite like this. When they built you brother, they broke the mold.
Love is a power greater than death. Well, not quite.
My father was a great fan of swing music in general, and of Benny Goodman in particular. That was his music. He didn’t show off his knowledge very often, but if you put on any old jazz record for him, within a couple bars he’d tell you the song, the band, the players, and if it was a song with multiple versions, he’d tell you which one. In 1986, my sister graduated from college in California, and the family all came out for it. Benny Goodman died that weekend. My dad was 65, and for the first time I saw him look like an old man, as if his youth had just been robbed.
“Magic” isn’t an unqualified success for me yet, though I like it enough. “Radio Nowhere,” with its strident beat and a tune vaguely reminiscent of the Tommy Tutone hit “8675309,” gets the album off to a good start, but “You’ll Be Comin’ Down” just never seems to get off the ground, with riffs that seemed pulled from the back catalogue and a sax part that I can only describe as perfunctory. “Livin’ in the Future” is maybe my favorite track so far: Livin’ in the future and none of this has happened yet. But of course it has, the nightmare is here. But we can still dance and groove. The song is light, almost a cross between old J. Geils and Bruce’s own composition “Out of Work.”
Unfortunately, too many of the tracks that follow seem to drag. This is particularly true of “Your Own Worst Enemy,” and the Beach Boys style song “Girls in Their Summer Clothes,” which had my brother commenting that “for this song half the crowd will be snoring and the other half will be sending their husbands out for beer,” and while that may add up to one half too many, it’s not yet easy for me to envision that one working live. The low point for me so far is “I’ll Work for Your Love,” in which the Catholic imagery is overdone to cringe point.
A few years ago, my dad told a story of traveling from his Army post at Fort Ord down to Los Angeles to see Benny Goodman play. He’d never told me he’d traveled for his favorite artist, but now I started to understand a kinship. I asked him, about how many times did he see Benny Goodman. “About 19.” Not 18 or 20? “Nineteen.” There was nothing more to say. I just smiled.
“Gypsy Biker” starts off with a harmonica wail that sounds like the studio version of “Empty Sky,” always a highlight. “Magic” is one of the few tracks that depart from the classic E Street sound, and it’s among those that work best: Leave everything you know and carry only what you fear. It reminded me a bit of “Nothing Man” and “Further On (Up the Road).” The other more topical songs – “Last to Die” and “Devil’s Arcade,” also worked well for me.
I don’t know that I’m ready to see this tour. I won’t try for tickets when they go on sale this weekend. Maybe later, maybe when I’m more ready.
I watched a video today, my own wedding. At the end of the chair dance, when we put him down, the video shows him coming over to me and hugging me. Maybe the only time, ever, at least like that. I had forgotten that little detail. And part of me wants to yell at him again, but I can’t, not quite. So I’ll sit here a little more, listen again, and try to come to terms.
When I was growing up in New Jersey, the state had a bit of an identity crisis. It was the suburb of New York and Philadelphia. When the Giants and Cosmos moved in to Giants Stadium, they kept "New York" as part of their name. Bruce Springsteen helped change things for us; from his very first album he proclaimed himself to be a New Jersey man.
September 25, 2009
I tried my best this year to avoid all of the Super Bowl hype. Sure, I've been watching them at least since Otis Taylor made mincemeat of Bud Grant's secondary, but I have long since grown tired of all the pre-game festivities. So, I tuned it out. Even with Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band finally on the bill as half-time performers, I did my best to ignore the details, paying only glancing attention to the interviews and none at all to reports from people at the rehearsals. I could be surprised live, along with most of the rest of the country.
Bruce Springsteen's "Working On a Dream" is due to be released on January 27. It finally leaked all over the internet today, so I've spent an some time with it this evening.
There were many little highlights for me. The WNEW DJs hyping it up. The Bruuuuuuuuuucing that came from the crowd. Bruce changing the day of the week to Tuesday (or whatever the hell night it was) and leading a call and response during "Spirit in the Night." Taking gifts from the audience... socks and underwear... an Islanders jersey. Just that general feeling of non-stop excitement, something even bigger than that summer's pennant chase; I didn't watch the game that night, not even on mute (must not have been on TV), but I remember Bruce asking for the score.
I don’t know that I’m ready to see this tour. I won’t try for tickets when they go on sale this weekend. Maybe later, maybe when I’m more ready.