Exhaustion and Bruce
Posted: August 25th, 2008 | Filed under: Bruce, International | 72 Comments »
You know the Mel Brooks quote about the difference between comedy and tragedy. At its simplest: Tragedy is me hurting my finger. Comedy is you falling in a manhole — what do I care? I think you can use the same technique to describe the difference between interesting and boring.
Interesting is my fantasy football team. Boring is YOUR fantasy football team.
Interesting is my best golf round ever. Boring is YOUR best golf round ever.
Interesting is my minor celebrity sighting. Boring is YOUR story of seeing Alan Thicke.
Interesting is my crazy cab ride to the Beijing airport at the end of the Olympics. And boring is … me telling you all about my crazy cab ride to the Beijing airport at the end of the Olymipcs. But it’s where my longest day began, my 37-hour day that took me to four airports, four time zones, three airlines, six near death experiences (all on the one cab ride), three beautiful hugs and one long blur that was snapped into focus by a song I’ve been waiting to hear all my life.
Understand, I’ve been on crazy cab rides before, lots of them, in any number of cities. I like them — there’s a county fair kind of thrill to scary cab rides. You know how at a county fair, you ride the Ferris wheel, and close to the top you notice that the bolts are rusted through and you suspect that they weren’t tightened with much enthusiasm that morning, and you realize that this near-bankrupt traveling fair probably doesn’t have the same quality control standards as, say, Disney World, and, you COULD die — you probably will not die, but you really could. That’s the same thrill I feel in a swerving cab*.
*I’ve only been in one taxi cab accident, it was in Indianapolis, and it’s a moment I now remember for the astonishing fury which my cabbie unleashed on the other driver (even though it was entirely the cab drivers fault) and for the way my meter rolled like the Jerry Lewis Telethon toteboard while he berated the poor driver for having the gall to be in the left lane at that precise instant when the cab swerved into him.
Now, this isn’t exactly connected, and I admit that this is entirely based on personal experience, which is unreliable at best and puts too much emphasis on small sample sizes. But as far as I can tell Indianapolis has the highest cab-rate-per-expectation (CRPE) in the world. There are certainly places where cab rides will cost more — New York, I’m sure, Tokyo definitely, London, of course — but the expectation is high in those places too. In a bizarre way, if you’re at all like me, you might even feel ripped off as a tourist if they DIDN’T overcharge you for a cab in New York. It’s part of the overall experience. Nobody wants to come home from their first trip to New York with a memory of paying nine bucks for a slow and carefully driven cab ride in the city. I once spent 60-some dollars on a club sandwich and Diet Coke at the Waldorf (I might have gotten a salad too, can’t remember) and I STILL tell boring stories about it.
But Indianapolis — you would expect cab rides to be priced-to-move there. But no, I’ve thought the cab prices there are ludicrous, way, way, way above the city’s grandeur factor. There is no secondary benefits to paying an obscene amount of money for a cab ride in Indianapolis. This is like getting pick-pocketed in Des Moines — it sucks AND it’s no fun to talk about. Denver also has an astonishingly high CRPE.
Still, I had never been on a cab ride that really had me scared enough to consider saving my own life by jumping out. Well, I have now. Five times on my trip to the Beijing airport, we were on a four-lane road and my cab driver felt it necessary to pass between two cars driving along in their individual lanes. Twice he realized that the only way he could get around a car in the right lane was to duck down into the shoulder and the grass and then wildly weave back once he had 1.3 millimeters of clearance. My cab driver spoke precisely no English, so I had to learn how to read his body language, which actually wasn’t that hard:
– When he hit the car horn, this meant he was a bit frustrated by the pace of traffic. This happened ever .3 seconds.
– When he shrugged, this meant “Don’t worry, it’s all under control,” even as I sat quivering under the glove compartment.
– When he groaned, this meant he was running into some trouble calculating how he would pull off his next stunt. This was always followed by the “Well, here goes nothing” look and that was followed, improbably, by Steve McQueen’s car being right in front of us*.
*I’ve always been fascinated by the bad-guy movie cars that smash through bridge guard rails or end up blowing up in mid air in, say, a Jason Bourne car chase or a James Bond thing or whatever. What do you think is going through the head of those henchman drivers? I keep imagine them going, “Um, I’m driving a tad fast here. Hello. I might want to slow down a bit. I mean, sure, I really want to catch this guy, but you know I’m really a pretty safe driver, you know, like I have no points on my license, and also I’ve never really seen any of these high-speed car chases work. And I don’t really want to do a 2 1/2 somersault with a twist off a cliff. Plus, you know what? I haven’t exactly been trained for this — I kept asking the boss to enroll us in that stunt driving course, but no, that guy’s SO cheap, he’s stolen like a billion dollars but he doesn’t think it’s worth it to let me take one weekend class at the Richard Petty School of Driving — I mean, just the weekend, I wasn’t even asking for the whole course. Screw this, I’m stopping at this stop light, I don’t care.”
After almost dying in a cab, after dealing with the inevitable “Where is ticket” confrontation at the Beijing airport, after getting a choice middle seat roughly the width of a trade paperback to Tokyo, after paying 59 bajillion yen again for faltering Internet at Narita Airport — this is the third time in a year, so apparently they PURPOSELY have a fading Internet connection there — after getting woken up on the plane ride to LA by an overzealous flight attendant who felt sure I both wanted and needed a hot towel, after the joy of landing in Los Angeles where my cell phone worked again after three weeks (“You have 48 new messages!”), after going to a sports bar and having a stale quesadilla that tasted like the best thing ever made in Mexico City (I like Mexican food fine, but I have to tell you that for whatever reason I was DYING for something remotely Mexican tasting after my three weeks in Beijing), after getting on the plane home and falling into sleep so fast and deep I did not even remember putting away my carry-on bag (and as such had a hard time finding them), after all that, I made it home to my beautiful wife and beautiful kids. There was the expected hugging, the expected “You were gone too long,” anger, the expected gift joy, the expected chattering, the expected, “OK, now you’re home, can we go to Wendy’s?” return to normalcy.
And then … well, every so often, if you are lucky, you will have a moment that makes you realize all over again that you married the right person. When I got home after all that flying, it was made very clear by my wife (and the babysitter she had hired) that we were going to see Bruce Springsteen. The reason wasn’t the poll or my own feelings about Bruce or anything like that. No, the reason was much simpler and much closer to the heart. Margo wanted to go.
* * *
I’ve written here a lot of words about my feelings about Bruce Springsteen. Well, lots of people have written a lot of words about Bruce. At some point, like with all great things, words fail. Words must fail. If I could REALLY tell you what it’s like to walk on top of the Great Wall of China — if I could really find words that captured the feeling of awe, the sense of wonder, the ghosts of history, if I could tell you the story in such a way so you could see the the depth of green beyond the walls, if I could find the words that would make your feet hurt. make your skin burn, make your sweaty shirt stick to your back, fill your lungs with the hazy air, if I could get you to feel the old woman who grabs your hand and shouts “Cold water!” as she touches the lukewarm bottle to your arm, if I could get it down so precisely that you could experience even the tiniest sensation … then, why would you go?
So, I will not be able to explain well enough what it was like to hear Springsteen begin his Kansas City show with “Ricky Wants A Man of Her Own.” This is such an obscure Bruce Springsteen song that I could not precisely place it until the chorus. It isn’t on any of his studio albums. It’s on “Tracks,” — his collection of B-sides, unreleased music, remakes and such. I have probably only heard it once or twice, and even then only to hear the songs around it. As far as I know, Springsteen has not played it in concert in … well, I don’t keep up with this stuff like many of my friends do, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t played it in 20 years or more*.
*As an update: BruceSpringsteen.net suggests this may have been the first time he ever played the song live.
It’s a good song … I’ve since listened to it again. But it wasn’t the song that made the moment. It was the realization that Springsteen wanted to make this night different and special. Of course, he wants to make every night special, I think that’s at the heart of why he still tours the world even though he’s almost 58 years old and richer than Gates and more famous than perhaps any other rock star in America. What could inspire the man to keep singing “Dancing in the Dark” in dark arenas and muggy football stadiums almost 30 years after he wrote those words, “They say you gotta stay hungry/hey baby, I’m just about starving tonight” so many years after those words found new meaning. I’ve spent a lot of time guessing at the reason Springsteen keeps going, too much time probably, and the closest I can get is that for the people who love him and his music, he can still take us to that higher place. Maybe that’s the only way he can get there himself.*
*I felt this again on Sunday night when he went into a long soliloquy before singing “Mary’s Place.” In it, he talked about how sometimes he needs convincing, how it takes a connection between the music and the fans, the singer and the sprit, to make the night explode. And I thought that was as close as we can get — there’s something a Springsteen show and those who want to be a part of it that makes nitroglycerine.
Even so, there was something different about this night in Kansas City. It was his last night on the Magic Tour. And there was an overwhelming feeling of “last night” — Danny Federici is gone, the Big Man Clarence Clemons looks tired and in pain, and sooner or later the music ends. I have little doubt that the E-Street Band will play together again, many times you would hope, but there was still something in the air, something that said it would never be like THIS again. We wondered if Bruce felt it too. Then he opened up with “Ricky Wants A Man of Her Own.” And we knew. He did feel it. He understood.
He ran around the stage like he was 25 again. He did a somersault. He spun around the microphone like a child at recess. He preached and he screeched and he blew kisses. He sat over the edge of the stage and let people smother him. He stuck out his guitar and let fans fingers run over his strings during the long guitar blast before “The highway’s jammed with broken heroes,” in “Born to Run.” He ran across the stage and did his slide, something I had only seen him do on vintage video from those long ago years. He did the “lightning bolt” pose that Usain Bolt did after he ran faster than any human who ever lived. Max Weinberg sang. Little Steven challenged Bruce to a guitar duel. Springsteen himself leaned over his fans, let them hold him up … that’s the blurry photograph I took. It’s so blurry that it’s hard to tell where Bruce ends and the fans begin, hard to tell even that there are people in the picture. That’s why I like it. That’s how it looked to me.
He sang “Cynthia,” for the first time in a long time, he broke into a remake of the Chuck Berry song “It’s All Over Now.” He sang “Hungry Heart,” though he really didn’t sing it, he merely held up the microphone and listened as the crowd sang. He brought out a little politics and broke into a haunting version of “Devils and Dust.” He took requests and played “Working on the Highway” and “Cadillac Ranch” and “Candy’s Room.” He sang a song I don’t believe I’ve ever heard before, a song called “Boys,” and he broke into an awesome solo of “Save the Last Dance for Me” before jumping into one more stirring “Dancing in the Dark.”
It really was magical — a word I would rather not use, but it’s one that all the people around me kept saying (“Isn’t this magical?”). I’m sure it was a great, great concert for anyone, even someone who had never seen Springsteen before and was unfamiliar with his music. But for all those people who marked at least a part of their lives by the man — and I have to say that I was surrounded by those people — it was something even better than a great concert, it was that feeling that, for one moment anyway, you are in the right place, and there’s no place else to be.
Bruce played for more than three hours, which is insane enough, and there weren’t any breaks, weren’t many soft songs, it was a stand-up concert, it was a participation concert, it was a throw your arms up concert, and by the end of it everyone was exhausted. It’s possible that I was more tired than most, having slept about three airplane hours the previous two and a half days and about 20 hours the previous three weeks. The Olympics … whew. When he came out for the encore, he began with “4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)” which is a great song, but it is slow, and in that instant I felt so tired, so drained, it hit me in eyes, and I thought, “If I close my eyes right now, I will hibernate for the next two months.” I pried my eyes open, and I looked at Bruce singing, and he became blurry, like I was looking at him through my phone camera, and I started to drift …
And then they played Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out, and the Big Man walked out to the middle of the stage for his moment. And I was back up again.
And then they played “Born To Run,” with the lights on so that everyone could see everything.
And then … the song. I really don’t know how to sum up my feelings about Springsteen — I just like to be around Springsteen fans who understand. But it’s like this: If asked to list my 10 favorite Springsteen songs, Rosalita would not be on my list. There are, for me, just too many other great songs. Rosalita might not even be Top 20.
But If I was asked to list off the 10 songs I would like to hear Bruce Springsteen (or anyone else) perform live, Rosalita would be first, second, third and sixth. It’s the ultimate live song, the ultimate personal experience, because it isn’t about the words, and it isn’t about the rhythm, and it isn’t about the instruments, and it isn’t about anything except the exuberance of music, the intensity of young love, the joy of first success, the ecstasy of crossing the line … in other words, all those things that Rock n’ Roll means. I had never seen the Mighty E-Street Band do Rosalita. I had only lived it through recordings and memories of friends.
And then … they did it. And it was wild and alive and beautiful and silly, and I leaned over and hugged my wife who had told me to come, and the Big Man himself sang those words that wrap it all up: “Someday we’ll look back on this and it’ll all seem funny.” And that was it. That was the best it could ever be for me.
The concert went on after that — Updike wrote that every true story has an anticlimax. The band wrapped up with “Rockin’ All Over the World,” a John Fogerty song, and it was good, but it wasn’t life altering, and you wished they would have played one more. Then again, maybe that made it just right. Maybe we should always want one more. Otherwise, what’s left?
Loading ...
Joe, you aren’t just The Best SportsWriter In America, you might be the best writer period. Fantastic.
Although I said that you should skip the concert, after reading this I can clearly see I was wrong. The lesson here is never listen to me.
Exactly. I’d love to read about Joe’s fantasy football team, his best golf round ever, and his story of seeing Alan Thicke.
Awesome.
Oh Joe. I wish you would write everything I read.
wow. Just awesome Joe
[...] Joe Posnanski (of the KC Star) on going to a Springsteen concert immediately after returning from Beijing. [...]
I’d never seen Springsteen before. I’d heard the stories, of course — the electricity, the concerts that never ended and that nobody wanted to end (what was that line from the Ben Stiller show? “He played all night and then he stuck around and helped us clean up?” Something like that). So I guess I hoped for something– I don’t want to use the word transcendent, but just something, a little out of the ordinary, something that you could tell a story about: “Man, I saw the Boss last month, and there is something I’ve got to tell you about.”
“Mary’s Place.” I don’t really like the song; it always struck me as second-rate seventies Springsteen, jammed into The Rising as a antidote to the generally dark, meditative feel of the album. Symbolically, I got it — 9/11 may have happened, but we’re all still here — but the song never got me, you know?
But last night …. No matter how much you try to avoid the pre-fab pop that surrounds us (and always has), you hear it. Every song, the same trite chorus, the same simplistic hook, over and over and over again, driving the song into your head through sheer blunt trauma — you forget the power of repetition when it’s done right. That’s what the blues were built on, man, a phrase, or a thought, over and over, but done right, it says something different every time. It’s easy to forget what music can do.
“Are you ready?” Over and over and over again … bringing the audience to a slow boil … I have never seen anyone work a crowd like that, not a preacher, not a politician, not anybody. He conducted that audience, like someone would conduct an orchestra. Raising the heat, slowly, to a fever pitch.
And then the band just explodes into “Mary’s Place”, and the audience explodes, too. It’s the best performance I’ve ever seen. It’s religious, it’s ecstatic, it’s the reason rock and roll was invented, it’s 18,000 people in exactly the same place, at the same time, expressing — joy. Where else can you see that? Where?
I’m thirty years old, I’ve gone to church, I’ve revelled in the deep and abiding love of my family and friends, and I have seen hundreds of people pick up a guitar, but I have never seen anything like that, and I doubt I will again.
Sorry about all that. I’ve just needed to say something for the last twelve hours or so, appropriate forum be damned, apparently.
Boring vs Interesting?
Joe, you could write a story about watching grass grow, and it would probably be riveting.
Last night was my 9th Bruce concert. Every one has been a religious experience for me. Joe…you just hit it out of the park.
Please tell me you got some sleep before you wrote this because if you didn’t I am going to turn in my keyboard.
You are an awful human being and I weep for the future of our once great nation.
Heh heh. Not really.
Sounds like you had a blast and looks like you had good seats. Hats off to your wife for hooking you up.
Moving on….what’s up with the poll question? A little premature isn’t it?
Joe,
I’m so glad you decided to go. I can’t imagine how I would have felt had I decided not to go last night and found out after the fact that Rosalita had been performed.
Seeing it live was like looking into the face of God.
Hanging onto my wife and singing that song, I don’t know if I have ever been happier.
I went to see Springsteen the night before in St. Louis and is was just as you described it with a few different songs of course. He opened with “And then She (He) Kissed Me” and just picked 30 signs out of the crowd and played them for 45 minutes. “Mountain of Love” and “Because the Night Belongs to Lovers” and “Devil with the Blue Dress”. He pulled a 7 or 8 year old boy up on stage from the front row and sang “All Night” with him and the kid knew every word. He pulled a young girl up on stage and let her live out her Courtney Cox fantasy during “Dancing in the Dark”, with every dance step just like the video. It was fabulous. My wife couldn’t go, so I took a friend for whom Bruce isn’t really on the menu and he loved it, just as I did the when my dad took me to my first Bruce show 12 years ago. My favorite song is “Out in the Street” which he did 3rd, but not having Patti there to sing it with him wasn’t the same. All in all it was the best of the 3 I have been to. Wasn’t going to go, but bought tix on ebay the week before. Thank goodness for the internet.
Welcome home Joe – good to have you back (on the same continent).
Re: the poll
It’s a testament to just how good the top pitching is in the NL this year, but it’s pretty hard to rank them.
My list, in order:
Lincecum
Webb
Santana
Dempster
Volquez
Sabathia (how the hell do you rank this guy?)
Billingsley
Sheets
Peavy
Lidge
Zambrano
Joe,
Last night was my second E Street concert in 21 years of life. Like you As always, he did not disappoint. There’s something about a Bruce concert that sends a shock through your system, wakes you up to what’s really going on in the word around you, centers you. After reading so many accounts by music writers, it is encouraging to find someone who “gets it” on the same core level as the rest of us. I’m glad you enjoyed the show. It’s been just about 15 hours since the show ended, but your account brought me back even still.
Cheers.
‘if I could get it down so precisely that you could experience even the tiniest sensation …’
Joe, somehow I have the feeling that you actually could do that… just wonderful again
Wow. You hit the nail on the head my friend. Gave me chills. I was also at the show last night, and I know what you’re saying about the feeling that this ride is about to come to an end. I fought that feeling throughout the whole show. Even brought tears to my eyes at one point when I realized that this may be the last time I get to see these songs performed live.
Most people don’t get it. You get it. Or seem to anyway. My buddy went last night as well. First show. Said it was the best show he’s ever seen. I asked him what his favorite song of the night was, and he summed it up perfectly: “I really couldn’t tell you. It was just the whole experience. It felt like I was a part of something.”
And that’s the truth. Every show I’ve seen, I walk away feeling like I just witnessed something that could never possibly happen again. And that’s why, even when the band finally hangs it up, everything will be alright. Because I saw it. Time and time again. I was there. I can tell my kids someday, I was there…
When I saw Bruce in St. Louis a long time ago, at the long-departed St. Louis Arena, he opened the show with “Night” which is not a song he played or plays very often, and he also played “Who’ll Stop The Rain” which he dedicated to John Fogerty. I thought he’d died or something. Turns out he was battling in court over his songs, which Bruce had also done a few years earlier.
I haven’t seen Bruce live in forever. I kind of want to remember him the way he was.
Man, am I happy that you got to go. Thanks, Margo, you are the best. And now, we got a few words from Joe about it, and the words rock.
The term wordsmith was created for you, Sir Joe.
Joe:
I am so glad you went, without you going, you never would have written this, and I can’t imagine never having read it.
Saw Bruce in Chapel Hill five (six?) years ago and he broke out Rosalita and Darlington County. It was just a week or so after Johnny Cash passed away and he did a haunting “I Walk The Line”. Only time that I’ve ever seen him live. Only big-time concert I’ve ever been to (and I’m 48).
Awesome.
Joe,
I looked for your Springsteen review first thing this morning and was severly disappointed by your peers write-down. I’m glad I found this, because you do the best “cover”.
I’m an old Springsteen fan, with over 20 years his concerts under my belt. Each song, each show, is so different and moving. And I agree that it marks a time in your ife as to what will resonate with you that evening.
I took my 15 year-old daughter to her first Bruce show, and we both could not speak afterwards after singing for three hours. We shared hugs and tears, or at least I welled up a couple of times knowing what she was experiencing for the first time. They’re tearing now, just trying to share.
This tour was so cool because we had no idea what would pop up in the set. I loved the Tracks songs, maybe wished for one or two more, like Thunder Road. But not for me, my daughter, who heard that song as a lullaby the first day out of the hospital. Like the rest of us, she now has a reason to believe, and a reason to return.
And yea, we’re both red-eyed at the office and school. But who cares. A blink of our lifetimes to rejuvenate our souls.
Thanks for the great write up. I look forward to the next.
You’re one of the better writers I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading, Joe, but I still couldn’t get into this post. I’m sure the other commenters will be quick to tell me that I’m a terrible person who lives a joyless, meaningless life. As a note, I’ve been to two Springsteen concerts (my dad dragged me to both of them). They were very good; Bruce had a lot of intensity, he’s fun to watch live, etc. But nothing he did moved me, and nothing he has written moves me. I’m sure this is because of an intrinsic flaw in my soul.
You could probably get me hooked by writing a post about the differences between Eggshell White and Seashell, but the posts about The Boss…well, I’ll just let everyone else enjoy them and wait for the next entry.
Oh, and congrats on the SI.com news, that’s wonderful, more people need to be exposed to this blog.
Re: the poll — I’m picking Webb, only because his numbers and Haren’s numbers are almost indistinguishable, so I’m going with something stupid like wins/win percentage to break the tie.
“it’s 18,000 people in exactly the same place, at the same time, expressing — joy. Where else can you see that? Where? ”
Where else can you see that? You don’t exactly have to stray far from this blog to find the answer to that.
A baseball game.
Very cool. See the kids and the concert. Good work. Now, get some sleep.
Joe,
You rock — I laughed, I cried, I felt like a giddy little girl. Glad someone referenced your piece on “Back to Rockville.”
Isn’t the question: What would it take for Webb NOT to win the CYA? Ditto for Lee.
I’ve seen Bruce on every tour since 1980 and I always held those early shows from The River tour back in the old Riverfront Coliseum up as a benchmark that every show was measured against and fell short until I saw U2 at Kemper right after 9-11. So when I say that last night’s show was a push with those 1980 shows, I think that’s saying something. I really didn’t think Bruce had a show like that in him still. A bit like the country song “I’m not as good as I once was, but I’m as good once as I ever was.” For me, the selection of “Rockin’ All Over The World” to close the set was perfect because it was also the first song he did in that Cincinnati show 27 years ago. After all this time to come full circle…
We were down in the Pit right in front and before the show, I was looking around at all the signs people had brought. Spotting one that requested “Downbound Train”, I turned to my wife and said if I only had one bullet to shoot I wouldn’t wasted it on that song. She asked me what song I’d pick and I started to answer “Growin’ Up” but then out of the corner of my eye I caught a colorful sign in the upper deck. Glancing up it read “Rosalita” and I told her that it would have to be that song. Rare, epic and joyous. I’d seen him do it, but certainly not in a long time. So when they started the opening notes, it was pure bliss.
Chills.
Ah, rock and roll. That was a beautiful tribute.
To the other commenters:
– “I have never seen anything like that, and I doubt I will again.”
You will if you go to enough shows. Go to lots. Bands you like or, better yet, might love or might hate. I went to a few shows a week for a good ten years there, and it was all because now and then, you experience a show like that. It could be Springsteen at 58, or Radiohead on their first US tour, or Random Folkie Woman Number Five doing an unexpected and delirious version of ‘Eight Miles High’ at a tiny club opening for a noise-rock band and its audience who just didn’t get it.
– “I still couldn’t get into this post.”
Springsteen doesn’t do much for me, either, but I got into this post. My guess is that either rock shows don’t do it for you, or they would, but you just haven’t been to enough to go to a few transcendent ones. The artist, songs, crowd, locale, really everything can differ, but the experience is always the same.
– “I really didn’t think Bruce had a show like that in him still.”
Again no fan, I would have. Some of the best performances I have seen were by retreads on county-fair level oldies tours. Don and Dewey a while back (RIP, both, now) spring to mind. They @$#%! rocked. Dewey made eyes at all the pretty girls. Don rolled his eyes and sawed at his violin in that way none have done before or, really, since. And both were over seventy, I think.
And to our host: again, great post.
“You will if you go to enough shows. Go to lots. Bands you like or, better yet, might love or might hate. I went to a few shows a week for a good ten years there, and it was all because now and then, you experience a show like that. It could be Springsteen at 58, or Radiohead on their first US tour, or Random Folkie Woman Number Five doing an unexpected and delirious version of ‘Eight Miles High’ at a tiny club opening for a noise-rock band and its audience who just didn’t get it.”
****
Amen. SF is having some sort of Golden Age of live music, I’ve seen some of the best concerts of my life the last few years. This past weekend, there was a HUGE fest in Golden Gate Park that was for me a combination of Disneyland, the World Series and the first time I held hands with my now wife. Not so much because of the acts that I really wanted to see (Radiohead, Tom Petty, Beck, Primus, Broken Social Scene, The Walkmen, etc), but because everyone there was *psyched* to be playing there, on that day, for people who were loving it and never wanted it to end.
Not to mention that it was in basically my backyard. I mean, I walked across the street to see Radiohead. (I have resisted typing that in ALL CAPS, which is how I think it.) Man, that’s a dream come true.
(PS For any West Coast music lovers, the upcoming Hardly Strictly Bluegrass fest in Oct. will definitely be worth checking out, it may be the best outdoor festival in the country today.)
Joe….
Amazing stuff! I get on to read every day and actually just finished The Soul of Baseball. Cant wait to read the next one! Keep up the good work..
“Never walk past a woman in a red dress.”
“We were down in the Pit right in front and before the show, I was looking around at all the signs people had brought. Spotting one that requested “Downbound Trainâ€, I turned to my wife and said if I only had one bullet to shoot I wouldn’t wasted it on that song. She asked me what song I’d pick and I started to answer “Growin’ Up†but then out of the corner of my eye I caught a colorful sign in the upper deck. Glancing up it read “Rosalita†and I told her that it would have to be that song. Rare, epic and joyous. I’d seen him do it, but certainly not in a long time. So when they started the opening notes, it was pure bliss.”
That was the sign my wife made. She was kinda bummed that security came during Sandy of all times and made us take it down then wouldn’t even let us keep it (they took it).
It will make her night to know that it was visible from the floor.
I hoped you would go to Springsteen just so I could read your review the next day. You’re the master story teller and I felt excited just reading your commentary. Thank you Joe.
To WCW…
- “I really didn’t think Bruce had a show like that in him still.â€
“Again no fan, I would have. Some of the best performances I have seen were by retreads on county-fair level oldies tours. Don and Dewey a while back (RIP, both, now) spring to mind. They @$#%! rocked. Dewey made eyes at all the pretty girls. Don rolled his eyes and sawed at his violin in that way none have done before or, really, since. And both were over seventy, I think.”
I agree to an extent. I’ve probably seen 1000+ shows since the early 80’s and I know that age doesn’t keep you from making loud raucous music. But Bruce was doing far more than making eyes and sawing. This was a physically demanding performance that would have tested someone half his age. Springsteen was surfing the crowd, sliding across the stage on his knees, bending backwards while hovering parallel a foot off the stage with one hand on the mike stand. THAT’s the show I hadn’t seen from him in 15+ years and didn’t know he still had in him. It was more Iggy Pop than Don & Dewey.
Loved every word of your post, Joe. I went to the Bruce concert at Kemper five(?) years ago. And I can tell you that I still get goose bumps thinking about the encore where he sang “Goin’ to Kansas City”. Holy cow.
After the last note from that wild encore rang in my ears and the excitement from the concert carried me over 100 miles of driving home all that was left was to see if you had made it back from Beijing to see Bruce. Thank you for describing the Great Wall, which I haven’t experienced and wild cab rides and Bruce, which I have. As Rosalita began, except for the absence of the mysterious shroud of smoke, I thought I was in Memorial Hall in 1975 and sixteen all over again. Glad you made it back so I can just tell my friends to read your post to understand how great it felt to experience that and spare them my weak attempts at capturing the magic.
I turned it down…I turned down the chance to go…My in-laws would have bought tickets for my birthday for me, and I couldn’t afford the gas money to go. Pardon me while I throw up
BrUUUUUUUce….hey….great…..
I love the blog Joe, HUGE baseball nut, even BIGGER music nut, but I think I’ll pass on the Boss…I too am among those who never got it, and never cared to
Interesting dichotomy how a guy who supposedly represents the working class man got such a nickname…don’tcha think?
Joe,
Whenever I read you, it seems that I am incapable of putting a noun, a verb and an object in any order, much less proper.
Your piece on the Bruce show captured feelings that when I try to speak, much less write about, I sound like Jerry Lewis in almost every movie he has ever done. It was, in many ways, the way a Springsteen experience is, tribal and uplifting…leaving you with the feeling that the world ain’t so bad after all and its worth it to think “that these are better days, baby. Yeah, there’s better days shining through.”
One historical note for you. “It’s All Over, Now” is by Bobby Womack. First done by Sam Cooke when he was with the Valentines, Murray The K turned the Stones on to the tune. Arriving in Chicago, the Stones wanted to record it at the legendary Chess studios. Womack, not wanting the Brits to use the tune, grumbled that the Stones “should get their own song!”
Finally persuaded to let them record the track, it became the Stones first #1 single in the USA. When Womack got the first royality check from the Stones rendition, he said they could use any song of his that they wanted.
It’s only rock & roll, indeed!
Joe,
Will you follow me around and write about my life?
People all over the world will think I’m the most fascinating person they ever read about.
Thanks for sharing your gift with us.
Welcome home.
I’m not even a Springsteen fan, but this was a tremendous piece. Great job.
Even your type of people are still voting for Cy Young based on wins. Lincecum is the clear choice. Lowest ERA and 200 Ks in under 180 innings. He’s even won 14 games for a crappy team.
Good to have you back. We all missed you.
years ago, probably around 1993-ish, i saw Bruce in Worcester MA during the “Lucky Town/Human Touch” tour. i read the set list in the Boston Globe (pre-internet) from the night before and learned he opened up with “Red Headed Woman”.
The night I went Bruce opened (solo, on just an accoustic guitar, dark stage with one spotlight on him) with “Sherry Darling” and I swear to this day that he played that song just for me.
it was tremendous and I will never forget it
Great read Joe. GREAT PIECE! I feel same way about BS that you do. I think one of the reasons i love BS music is because I always felt growing up in Kansas that nobody else was even close to liking his music as much as me so it always seems like my own music, that is why going to his concerts is a big deal, you are finally around thousands of others that share that sense of connection…great show in KC on Sunday night, great show!
You prisoner of rock-n-roll, you…
I recently uncovered a black and white photograph which shows me on 5th Avenue in NYC during the summer of 1978, both arms wrapped around my just-purchased copy of the just-released Darkness. I had waited in line at Sam Goody with hundreds of other eager young fans, desperate for a new record from Bruce after 3 long years. (Not that anyone was complaining about having to “only” listen to Greetings, The Wild, & BTR.) I can still remember that day with a laser-like clarity that pierces through the years, about to get on the subway headed home, about to carefully slice open the album cellophane and lay that holy disc of vinyl on the turntable, about to experience the moment of wide-eyed anticipation as the tone arm dropped the stylus into a groove and unfathomable magic came out of my speakers. How I yearn sometimes for the clarity, simplicity and potency of those times…
From that magical day to a magical Sunday night (you were absolutely right to use the word, Joe) — it can’t be possible it’s been 30 years. But Bruce is still turning back time, and if he can do it, maybe we can too. What a gift he gave to all his fellow middle-aged human beings there Sun. night — the ability to feel the power and electricity of youth once again, a rousing confirmation that all things are indeed possible, that life is a precious blessing to be lived full-bore, that rock and roll truly can save your mortal soul.
Thanks to Bruce, my ears are still ringing with the magic of 30 years ago. And my thanks to you, Joe, for writing so vividly of your magical experience Sunday night and providing an opportunity for others to share theirs.
There are no cabs anywhere in the world as expensive as Amsterdam. A 14 mile trip that takes about… 20-25 minutes will set you back a cool 114 Euros.
The second you get in, the meter is at 6 Euros. It adds about 4 euros per mile, and it also counts seconds no matter if you’re driving (and thus already paying the 4 euros a mile) or standing still. In fact, I’m pretty sure that if you’re standing still because of a traffic light, the seconds rate doubles. It looks like the reels on one of the one-armed bandits when you yank the arm.
I asked the driver if he was (bleeping) kidding me, and he stoically repeated the amount, then looked like he was about to object when I didn’t give him a tip. He wisely chose to remain silent, as I probably would have jammed him face first into that meter.
Moral of the story : Do not EVER get a cab in Holland. Hitchhike. Walk. Take the bus. BUY A SCOOTER.
(Especially do not take a cab from the airport, as airport cabs will simply charge double. My parents live 10 minutes away from the airport. Last time they took a cab home it cost them 88 euros.)
Thank you Joe. Thank you. I can’t describe how grateful I am for you going to this concert and writing about it. For 25 years I have had a piece of song running through my head that I could never attach to anyone.
After reading your column I finally was able to find it
Little Steven, “Forever”.
beautiful, beautiful noise – thanks for your review.
I have never seen Bruce, and I doubt I ever will. But for my own edification, my own spirit, I am glad you did, and that you brought this gem of a post to us. Call me selfish. But I am uplifted by your attending this concert.
SI doesn’t know what they’re getting into.
I saw Bruce twice on this tour, and that makes 12 overall for me, and each show is something unique. I am lucky, as I am from NJ, and he does play here more often than anywhere else, but there’s something amazing to see him playing “at home”, in front of people who have been coming to his shows for years, and know every word of every song. He does a better job of anyone I’ve ever seen (and I’ve seen a lot of different bands – upwards of 500) of connecting with every last person in the audience, and when he plays that song you don’t think he was going to play but you were hoping for, then the place is just about crackling with electricity.
Welcome back to the States Joe, and great article.
Glad you were able to attend the show. I was curious about the song Max Weinberg chose to sing Sunday night after Bruce Springsteen picked the “Let Max Sing” sign from the audience. Turns out there’s a New Jersey / drummer song / Kansas City thread.
Boys, by Luther Dixon and Wes Farrell, was originally performed by the Shirelles, an R&B “girl group” from Passaic, New Jersey. It was released as the B-side to Will You Love Me Tomorrow in November 1960. The Beatles covered Boys on Please Please Me, their first album. It was recorded on February 11, 1963 in one take at Abbey Road Studio with Ringo Starr, one of Weinberg’s musical heroes, taking the lead vocal. It was Ringo’s first recorded lead vocal with the Beatles.
And one more thing, when the Beatles released Boys as a single in October 1965 the B-side was Kansas City Hey Hey Hey Hey.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-PP9PjnpGpE&feature=related
Awesome. Told you the Boss would put on a great show. Springsteen concerts just have so many wonderful moments – the audience singing “Hungry Heart”, the long build before “Mary’s Place,” “Born to Run” with the lights on so that you can see everyone getting into it, the Big Man taking his solos… when are they going on tour next?
By the way, re meeting Alan Thicke: “What happens in Vegas, should be happening to YOU!”
While I don’t feel the same way about Bruce that you do, I feel the same way about live music. Or more accurately, great live music. Bruce doesn’t speak to me the way he speaks to you which is okay because there are bands who have spoken to me like that.
And I wish everyone has the experience of a concert like that. I saw the Hold Steady play for three hours and at the end of it, it felt like the earth moved. And I didn’t see Fugazi, I lived that show. There were countless others, but there really is something about a great live rock show. It’s cliche, but it really feels like it changes your life.
Lincecum is great. no question. But I don’t see that his statistics are so much better than Webb — Webb has a .231 avg against & Lincecum has .223; Lincecum has .314 Slg against & Webb has .313. Webb has a better strike/walk ratio. It won’t be a bad thing when Webb wins the CYA. And he will, unless he falls apart.
Welcome back, Joe.
@ Creston: I wonder if that explains why the Amsterdam airport is so conscientious about telling you precisely how many minutes it will take you to walk from one location to another within it. In my case it was thirty-seven. I made it in twenty, and that was while sleep deprived. In your face, Holland!
Loved the post on Bruce! As a relatively recent transplant to KC, I’ve read your columns on the sports pages, but I’ve never seen this site.
You reflected the energy of a transcendant Springsteen experience better than music critics do. While I’ve seen Bruce 6 or 7 times over the years, I missed this show. When I saw the set list on his website, I knew I’d missed something special. You confirmed it. Thanks!
WRT: Cabs. A few years back, America West lost our luggage on the trip from Phoenix to San Antonio (starting a string of 8 trips on America West to or through Phoenix where 7 times one or both of us didn’t have luggage when we arrived, including FOUR trips that were one stops where Phoenix was our destination). So we’re in San Antonio, and had no reason to rush back to the hotel and unpack, shower, and change for the Charity Pairs, the kickoff event of the North American Bridge Championships. In fact, we were probably going to play in our sweaty traveling clothes, standing out amongst all those tuxedos (our suits were part of the lost luggage, natch). So we decided that instead of laying out big bucks for the cab ride, we’d save some money, see some of the city, take a bus, and maybe when we reached the hotel our luggage would be there.
It wasn’t. But given we had no time constraints nor luggage to deal with, the bus ride was both for more enjoyable and loads cheaper than would be a cab.
NL Cy Young: anybody who isn’t voting for Brandon Webb is, well, biased, and I say that knowing that he lost last night and knowing that he is the reason my Dodgers won’t make the playoffs.
I know, CYA is not supposed to be about playoff teams. But you have to admit, pitching extremely well for a playoff team is more meaningful than pitching extremely well without any pressure. So Webb beats out Lincecum, and the two of them beat everybody else.
How good is Webb? Take his 19-5 record and replace it with the rest of the Diamondback’s decisions. Instead of being in first place in the division, the D’backs would be barely ahead of the Giants for fourth. That’s the difference Webb makes. And he racks up a ton of innings (almost seven per start) while still having all the good numbers in WHIP, ERA, and so forth.
I won’t make a decision for MVP until the season’s over: too many players might deserve it *if* their team makes the playoff. But I would have no objections to Webb winning both awards this year. He probably won’t; I think it would take a Mets/Cubs/Brewers trifecta to give Webb a shot, with the Marlins (Ramirez), Phillies (Utley), and Cardinals (Pujols) having stronger candidates. I mean, Pujols is leading the league in both OBP and slugging! But then Ramirez and Utley are doing great in the middle infield, and that’s got to be worth something, so with three solid candidates I’ll pick the one whose team makes the playoffs. Even then New York’s insane publicity advantages would probably give it to Wright. But if Webb somehow won MVP, it wouldn’t bother me any.
Thanks for writing all this. I took my 13-year-old twins back home to NJ (from CA) to see Bruce in the Meadowlands a couple of weeks ago. We went the last night of the week, the night a propane truck turned over on the Turnpike and delayed the start of the concert until 9:30. I laughed, I danced, I screamed, I sang loud–real loud, I showed my kids a glimpse of the person they only know as Mom. He played for 3 hours and 15 minutes. He did Incident on 57th Street. Best of all, he sang Jersey Girl. My friend Jane cried. We all were so happy, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
My first concert was Bruce Springsteen in Red Bank, NJ in 1976. (I was 2…. okay, maybe 3.) I want him to be my last concert, but not yet. He’s not done yet. Neither am I.
If you think the Kansas City show was good, you should have seen the St. Louis show the night before. Possibly the best show of the entire Magic Tour, and I went to 20 of them. It will become a legendary show.
It moved into my Top 15 shows of all time, and I have been to over 100 Bruce shows starting in 1975. Awesome.
I am so glad to hear that you went, and that you took Margo.
KC was awesome, but STL was this utterly MINDBLOWING experience. I still can’t believe it really happened the way it did. It kind of mirrors the end of the Rising tour – the second-to-last at Giants murdered the last, and the second-to-last (really second to last that time) at Shea blew away the last (with the exception of the OMFG Bob Dylan moment).
but still, KC was astonishing in its own way.
some day brucespringsten.net will put up my KC report. I’m so glad I stayed up until 3:30 to get it done that night. sigh.
Thought you might enjoy another review of the show.
http://www.livinginstereo.com/
I can’t say that i was at the last date of this tour, but i was at the last date in new jersey (when the band could get in their own cars and go home with their families). when the show ended (around 1am) with ‘rosalita’ and ‘jersey girl’, i wanted it to go on forever. what a show, and a great group on stage and in the cheap-seats…
This is an awesome story, and i may be only 16, but i can see how talented you are. Keep them coming!
Also, i was at the concert, and it was awesome.