In recent years I've read of other rock musicians gushing over Bruce Springsteen as if they were shameless fanboys and girls. When you think about it, aren't most musicians music fans first and foremost? Sure there's been tribute records including one just of "Nebraska" alone. In 2007 there was a big tribute show to honor Springsteen held in New York City with the likes of Steve Earle, The Hold Steady, and Josh Ritter, to name a few. Then there was Bono's glowing Rock N Roll Hall of Fame speech for Springsteen.
The three that have struck me the best have been other musicians talking or writing about Springsteen. Pictured is something hand written by The Clash's Joe Strummer. It needs no introduction, just read it. Here is a link to the pictured story. Click on the word "link".
Here is another ringing endorsement from John Wesley Harding from his blog, click on this link: http://blogs.myspace.com
Then I think of Serge Bielanko of Marah who reviewed a Springsteen show from the 1999 "Tracks" Reunion Tour. It really captures the essence of being a Springsteen fan. I've read this review countless times and each time I do it really reaffirms life as a Bruce Springsteen fan. Here it is.
Dancing in the Dark
(Like a White Boy)
by Serge Bielanko
I.
The sun took South Philly in one last time and then loosened its grip on the evening sky. Down on South Broad Street, not too far from where they blew up the Chicken Man, dusk came rolling in...slow...like a pimp in a Caddy. Darkness on the edge of town? You're goddamn right. I lit a smoke and sighed as traffic from I-95 growled, roared, and faded away. Somebody's "Badlands" collided with someone else's "Born to Run" and it sounded so sweetly menacing that I made a note to try that shit at home. I knew something wonderful was about to happen inside as Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band returned to Philly for the first time in ten years. But I had no idea that watching my own friends would turn out to be that thing. Sometimes Springsteen music works real honest-to-god magic. Just ask Ed, or Paul, or me.
II.
My buddy, Ed, was in the fourth row last night and he just called me and said that his life is different now...that things ain't gonna be the same anymore. He said he was driving home after the show and his heart started really skitzin' out. I compared it all to driving home after a spectacular evening of sex with a supermodel. Ed said it was more like three supermodels. You get the idea. Me and my friends were on the side of the stage?real close, great view. But watching Ed down in the fourth row was almost as sweet as watching Bruce himself. From the first notes of "The Ties That Bind," Ed's tree-trunk arms were pumping his fists toward heaven or the moon or something. And his face? God, I wish all of Philly could have seen that boy's face when Bruce kicked into "Badlands." More than joy, more than ecstasy, more than passion was pumping with the blood through the veins of Ed's head. To be honest with you, I'm pretty sure he might've been possessed by the sort of fever that can drive some men to act lewd or crazy or really brave. Bruce's music does that to us. Ed wasn't the only one though. Down three rows from me, my buddy Paul was dancing in the dark, man. Right from the get-go, Paul was doing the white person dance, that concert dance of the non-dancer. Head roll, weave, sway and repeat. It's a beautiful thing to watch your friends do that. They're so free; it's so pure. I stared at him as the songs ended and he clapped and hooted unabashed like some mother at her kid's t-ball game. Through "Backstreets" gusto and "The Promised Land"'s promise Paul kept his body moving, his claps nearly always in time, his grin never missing a beat. He'll never forget it and neither will I.
III.
And then there was me. I've never tried too hard to like people who aren't into Springsteen. Our friendship could go nowhere and our future would be bleaker than "The River." It's fine? like what you like, and have a good life. No, me, I am into Springsteen. I am a fierce believer in the vision he's always trumpeted: that rock 'n' roll music could take us all higher emotionally and spiritually; that it could make the world a better place. And so as I clapped my own rhythms and sipped my beer and shouted "Bruuuuuuuuce" with my friends and 20,000 other people in the city I love, I suddenly realized the monumental gifts that Springsteen has repeatedly brought back to us again and again through the years. There is the music, of course. All of those albums that have soundtracked our lives and guided us through the whimsical gauntlet of time. And all of those shows?all those mesmerizing nights set ablaze by the greatest rock 'n' roll band in the world. But there's also a lot of hard-to-describe gifts; gifts that he's given us that require time and craft to really articulate into words. I'm talking about all of the passion, the glory, and the sense of triumph we've been privy to just by participating in his world and allowing him into ours. It ain't bullshit, people, and it never has been. Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band are as real as the night is long, and I know there're a lot of people who would agree with that. But I guess in the end, only the Springsteen fan could really fathom the whole thing, the feeling you get watching your friends dance to the music.
Maybe Ed summed it up best when I asked him if he thought Bruce saw him so pumped up with life up there in the front...and maybe even looked him in the eye. "Dude," Ed started, then paused with unconscious conviction. "I know he did." Connection made. Happy 50th Bruce...and thanks for everything.
Serge Bielanko plays guitar, sings, and writes music in the band
Marah?which can pull off the riproaring-est version of "Streets of
Philadelphia" you've ever heard. Marah's next album is forthcoming from the
E-Squared label.
No comments:
Post a Comment