"Springsteen.....

[dot info]

holdsteady.wikia.com/wiki/Tramps_like_us

:-)

[Rich Tarbell]

i always hated the "fake" audience at these halftime shows ...

insight :: sports.espn.go.com/espnmag/story?id=3883771

[nation87]

personally, i'm not a huge fan of halftime performances. it usually leads to cheese, and more cheese. this year was no exception.....and i agree, rawk, those fake crowds are pretty painful to watch.

my favorite was tom petty last year. he just stepped out there and rocked a few songs. no gimmicky crap.

and oh yeah, that one time when that one gal got naked....yeah, that was pretty cool as well.

[Northern Wish]

Its in Born to Run not Glory Days........

"Tramps like us baby we were Born to Run......"

[magicrat]

Feb 3, 2009 23:39:12 GMT -5 annarose said:

I haven't listened to much Springsteen, but did find it interesting that in one of this songs, "Glory Days" maybe, some of the most prominent lyrics are "Tramps like us." I had a very hard time not yelling "and we like tramps!"

Do you think that was intentional on the part of THS, tricky reference or coincidence? its a very prominent phrase in Charlemagne and also in the Springsteen song.


oh, and id have to agree. The man's a legend, but no Craig Finn. Hands down.

Ehhmmmmmm, no disrespect, but are you being serious or going for irony?
Craig and the guys are, I believe, MASSIVE Bruce fans. The song that you are referring to is "Born to Run" probably the best known Springsteen song around.
Check out Craig's reaction to duetting with the Great Man on "Rosalita" at a Bruce tribute gig in Radio City a lil while back.....

www.youtube.com/watch?v=jtjPO47XIbs

[Rich Tarbell]

Feb 3, 2009 4:33:09 GMT -5 toastie said:

I noticed his wife and the other woman there are completly pointless and inaudible.

maybe because none of the musicians were plugged in?

spin.com/articles/springsteen-used-recorded-tracks-super-bowl

uh-oh

[dissident]

if you think springsteen used pre-recorded tracks you're out of your mind.

edit: i've lost a little of my innocence just now.

[hoodrat]

Feb 4, 2009 17:44:20 GMT -5 dissident said:

if you think springsteen used pre-recorded tracks you're out of your mind.

edit: i've lost a little of my innocence just now.

this might be the saddest post ever. and i sympathize.

[dissident]

i'm kind of heartbroken. first wal-mart and now this.

[Deleted]

shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhit
still, he's the Boss
and i can't imagine not hearing Born to Run

[Phils_fan]

I'm going on a personal Bruce-bashing moratorium for the month of February. After my recent bitching (I mean concerns) about Bruce, I'm gonna give the guy a break. Sometimes you just gotta keep your mouth shut and respect the Boss.

[manish]

so what if the backing tracks were pre-recorded?!

it was a 12 minute segment in the middle of a live sports broadcast: you can't set up a band that size at the click of a finger

doesn't detract from the joy of his performance, which was a well judged slice of ham and cheese for what was, ultimately, a showbiz event

[missalabamanobody]

Ok, I apologize in advance for this hugely long post, but my sister got hold of this on facebook somehow and thought I'd enjoy it. You might, too. This person puts my fan skills to shame.
____________________________________________________

25 Cool Things about being on the Super Bowl XLIII Halftime Crew

Including how I got chosen, what we did as crew members, cool brushes with Bruce and the Band and other neat stuff that happened.

1. The whole adventure begins in November when Bruce and the NFL announce that he and the E Street Band will be the halftime performer for Super Bowl XVIII on February 1 at Raymond James Stadium in Tampa, my home football field.

2. My hairdresser told me that they were taking volunteers to work Bruce's halftime show at the Super Bowl. I thought she was insane but checked the website, and - lo and behold - there were the volunteer applications. I completely forgot about it until I got the notice that I had been accepted.

3. We meet for Orientation in December. Unfortunately, I (the idiot) thought we were meeting at the University of South Florida, so I drive around campus for an hour looking for the right building. Then I finally call home to get Norm to check my email, and it turns out I was supposed to have been at the University of TAMPA, clear across town. I drove like a maniac down I-275 and made it with 5 minutes to spare. I was sure they were going to kick me off the crew. Turns out we didn't even have to be there anyway.

4.Our first rehearsal is outside Raymond James Stadium at 6:00 pm on Monday, January 19. People have come from New Jersey, New York, Maine, Canada and Finland. When asked who was there to do this for Bruce, 3/4 of the 400 people raised their hands. No surprise - they were all wearing Bruce T- shirts. Most teams named the carts they push after a Bruce song - like "Team Rosie," for example. Everyone immediately starts an ongoing contest over who loves Bruce the most, who's seen Bruce the most, and who knows the most about him. I win hands down in my crew.

5. At that first rehearsal we meet Cap, our fearless leader, a former military man from Memphis, TN. He has the Southerner's skill for telling endless stories that wrap around your elbow before they get to your thumb, and seem to have absolutely nothing to do with his point until he gets to the end. His theme for our labor was "Slow is smooth and smooth is fast." That first night it took us 45 minutes to assemble the stage. He told us we needed to get it down to under 5. It was oddly appropriate because most of his stories took around 45 minutes to tell. He could compare building a stage in 5 minutes to anything - a failed POW rescue in Vietnam, learning to plow behind a mule, or navigating the Mississippi in a riverboat.

6. Our task basically consists of assembling a large puzzle of large black carts, lights and electric cables into one piece that, if done correctly, becomes the equivalent of an "ordinary" stage. The production designer actually discussed the process by which he and Bruce came up with the plan - they talked about it over dinner and wrote it up on a napkin. The stage you saw assembled at the Super Bowl was supposedly 98% Bruce's design. At this point he knows exactly what he wants.

7. My job, I hate to admit, was as simple as it could be. Our crew, which consisted of 7 people, had to pick up a large video feeder cable, which was surprisingly heavy, and plug it into the video walls behind the stage. The real challenge was not electrocuting myself in the process. Then we got to run around to the front of the stage and assume our positions. The first night that we practiced in Raymond James Stadium was incredibly cool for a lot of reasons, one of which was that it was the first night the video walls went live. "Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out" flashed across them, and that was how I learned the first of the four songs he was going to play and could taunt you with it.

8. Everyone - who knows why - is supposed to get nicknames, probably because our crew chief is a tattooed, orange-haired Italian guy from Sacramento nicknamed "Rusty." Rusty decided all of us had to have nicknames, but he only gets so far as calling me "shortstop," then rejects it in favor of "halfpint." Nobody else ever gets referred to by their nicknames. Maybe because I was the first in line in our crew. Rusty also decided after we finished each rehearsal, we would put all of our fists together, count "1,2,3" and yell "Bruce" at the top of our lungs. This was true despite the fact that none of the real crew members - NOT ONE - understood anyone's fanaticism about Bruce. Rusty kept singing "Baby we were born to ride."

9. We were also informed that this Super Bowl halftime performance was going to be unique in two ways. First of all, Bruce and the Band were going to play what's called "live live." That meant no backing tracks whatsoever. Logical - since when did Bruce need a safety net to perform live, even at a Super Bowl? And secondly, this was the first time in a modern Super Bowl that the crew was given the places up close to the stage and the so-called "field audience" of 2,000 were required to stand behind us. This was for no other reason than because of the devotion that most volunteers had for Bruce.

10. The carts got heavier and heavier as the two weeks went on, because more and more equipment was loaded on top of them. Eventually most of the audio equipment and the instruments - excluding Bruce's guitars of course; he has a separate security guard for them - were also on top of the carts. The first night that Bruce's roadies came to rehearsal was also the first night that the organ, Max's drums, Clarence's stool and Roy's piano were on the stage. The piano was newly refinished, with non-skid strips on top so Bruce could dance on it without falling.
11. Because I play the piano (sort of) and I love Roy, I asked his roadie if I could come up and touch the piano. He was amazingly nice - considering those roadies were, in general, some really cranky dudes - and said sure. He helped me up on the stage, which was about 5 feet tall, and I sat down on Roy's stool. The piano itself was surprisingly small - technically a baby grand but appearing more like an upright - and was an odd shade of pearl gray. I asked if I could lift the keyguard and he said sure. I played a few chords of "If I Should Fall Behind" (luckily almost no one could hear me) and got goosebumps. I just wished I could have remembered "Incident on 57th Street."

12. The first night we practiced in the stadium was amazingly cool because it was the first time we had seen the stage, lights and video set up and turned on in the dark. It was actually starting to look like a concert. That night we also met Don Mischner, head of Super Bowl Productions, whose name always flashes across the screen after the game.

13. One afternoon when I got to rehearsal a little early, Jon Landau was actually walking around the practice field with Cap, checking out the stage and the plans. I tried not to look like I was following him around like a stalker. He and Bruce headed out to dinner afterward. He thought they were going for steaks. I momentarily considered running back to my car and following him and then realized I was off my nut.

14. Bruce and the Band started rehearsing early in the week in the tent where we stored the stage. We could hear them quite easily from the practice field - what a thrill. That's when we all found out that he would actually be playing four songs and what they would all be. No real surprises, and oh was I dying to sneak closer and record it, or at least tell everyone I knew. But . . .

15. We were reminded every day before rehearsal that if we gave away any information we would be kicked off the crew faster than we could say "Bruce." We were told stories about security guards, camera operators and other paid employees who were fired for taking pictures and videos and posting them on youtube. We all were instilled with the fear of eviction if we told anyone anything we knew, especially what songs he would be playing. Sorry, but it just wasn't worth it.

16. They served us box lunches of ham, turkey or veggie sandwiches, chips, a pickle and a cookie at EVERY SINGLE MEAL. With Gatorade, water and really bad coffee, no less. If I see turkey anytime before next Thansgiving I'm going to be violently ill. But it did become an oddly bonding running joke between all of the volunteers.

17. Groupie moment: Bruce is amazingly hot, even up close, for a man who is almost 60. He's also surprisingly short. And for me to say that you know he must be short. The production designer measured his height at 5'10 1/2 - with his boots on. He must wear boots with 3 inch heels, I swear.

18. The night of the dress rehearsal was the most exciting for me because we got to watch Bruce and the Band rehearse 3 times by ourselves - well, with 2,500 people. It was pouring down rain and everything - the stage, the tarp, the band, the crew - were all drenched. The roadies had to mop down the stage and the instruments. The Band ran through the set flawlessly, even in the pouring rain. All of the crew (who had done previous Super Bowls) kept remarking on what a "pro" Bruce was. Duh.

19. After the second set, when it had finally stopped raining, Bruce took off this goofy little knit cap he was wearing to keep his head dry. He was wearing a headband underneath, and it fell onto the ground without him noticing. A girl picked it up off the ground and brought it to her father, who was on my crew. They all knew what a lunatic Bruce fan I am, so he gave it to me. What a sweet, wonderful man - it has of course become one of my treasures. I wear it on my wrist and I've only taken it off to shower.

20. When Bruce and the Band filed off the stage after the rehearsals, they all walked right by us - within about a foot. I reached out my hand on two occasions and touched him on his bicep. He looked at me, first startled, and then smiled. I didn't think it would get any better than that - but I was wrong.

21. The night of the Super Bowl I was surprisingly calm, probably because we had practiced for 36 hours already. The huge crowd really didn't phase me. Most of the night consisted of waiting around for 10 minutes of work - oh, and Bruce of course. We stood in the tunnel watching the second quarter before we went on the field. A professional football field looks surprisingly small from ground level, especially with 22 huge players on it. With two minutes left in the half we made our way onto the field, and everything went off without a hitch.

22. I managed to elbow my way up to the left edge of the stage, next to where Clarence and Nils were playing, despite the efforts of several security guards. When Bruce did his knee slide during practice, everyone could tell by the look on his face that he wasn't quite sure exactly where he was going to end up. You saw that go awry when he slid into the cameraman and nearly went right off the stage. I actually - just as a reflex of course - reached out and grabbed hold of his right knee to keep him from falling. I got a pretty good grip.

23. When the band had finished playing, they all filed down the stairs to get off of the field surrounded by a tunnel of security guards and crazed volunteers. I reached out my hand to Bruce, hoping he would shake it. He took my hand in one of his, held it with the other, and squeezed it for a few seconds, saying, "Thank you." At that moment I had no idea who I was, where I was or what I was doing, and I didn't care. Bruce had just thanked me. How could it get any better.

24. Again we got the stage off the field without a problem, and moved back into the tunnel under the stadium. Nils Lofgren was standing out there talking to two people like he was nobody. I went up, patted him on the back and told him what a great job he'd done and asked him to sign my book - the only thing of paper I had on my person - which just happened to be entitled "Bruce Springsteen and Philosophy: Darkness on the Edge of Truth." He looked at the cover interestedly, opened it and signed "Believe. Nils Lofgren." He's also amazingly short.

25. As cheesy as it may sound, this was one of the most remarkable experiences of my entire life, and the glow hasn't yet started to fade. Yeah I'd have preferred to have been at a "real" Bruce concert - but I still have a great sense of pride when people tell me how impressed they are that the show went off without a hitch and we got the stage set up in 2 minutes. 150 million people around the world would have seen it if we'd screwed up. That's the least we could do for Bruce.

[Deleted]

Awesome!

[dot info]

I didn't actually watch the show, but 5 minutes to set up? How could it not be mimed.

When you see bands playing on TV shows, they're usually miming too.

Its just the way its done, I'd like to see more bands being honest about it. Would it have subtracted from the performance if he'd introduced the song by saying that the band would be miming but his vocals were live?

Well, maybe it would. People want to believe its real. Like Pro Wrestling.

[stevedave]

Miss Alabama. Thanks for taking the time to give us that fantastic insight. Fascinating reading. I really enjoyed the show. And your writing.

Now stop groping Rock Legends and get back to work.

[annarose]

Feb 4, 2009 16:32:21 GMT -5 magicrat said:

Feb 3, 2009 23:39:12 GMT -5 annarose said:

I haven't listened to much Springsteen, but did find it interesting that in one of this songs, "Glory Days" maybe, some of the most prominent lyrics are "Tramps like us." I had a very hard time not yelling "and we like tramps!"

Do you think that was intentional on the part of THS, tricky reference or coincidence? its a very prominent phrase in Charlemagne and also in the Springsteen song.


oh, and id have to agree. The man's a legend, but no Craig Finn. Hands down.

Ehhmmmmmm, no disrespect, but are you being serious or going for irony?
Craig and the guys are, I believe, MASSIVE Bruce fans. The song that you are referring to is "Born to Run" probably the best known Springsteen song around.
Check out Craig's reaction to duetting with the Great Man on "Rosalita" at a Bruce tribute gig in Radio City a lil while back.....

www.youtube.com/watch?v=jtjPO47XIbs

I suppose being serious. As sad as it is I really know just about nothing about the Boss, other than that THS are compared to him all the time. Maybe I should educate myself a little.


speaking of audiences, did anyone notice that... erm.... bouncy... woman in a red shirt that the camera kept panning to out in the crowd?

[bigontheinside]

Feb 3, 2009 23:39:12 GMT -5 annarose said:

I haven't listened to much Springsteen, but did find it interesting that in one of this songs, "Glory Days" maybe, some of the most prominent lyrics are "Tramps like us." I had a very hard time not yelling "and we like tramps!"

Do you think that was intentional on the part of THS, tricky reference or coincidence? its a very prominent phrase in Charlemagne and also in the Springsteen song.


oh, and id have to agree. The man's a legend, but no Craig Finn. Hands down.

It's in Born To Run. And I'm sure Craig Finn talks about "Tramps like us and we like tramps" in an interview I read a couple-a months back. He talks about lots of lines that some people don't get.

[Northern Wish]

From another point of view on the same half time experience:

Life of Reilly
Halftime on the field watching Bruce? Should be a no brainer, right?
by Rick Reilly


I used to think the worst jobs in sports were: (1) Thong wrangler for John
Daly. (2) Mark McGwire's injector. (3) Detroit Lion.
That was until I tried this one: Volunteer Super Bowl halftime concert
"fan."
These are the folks who come running out just before the halftime concert
yelling like they just won the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes, even
though the band isn't even on stage yet.
Let me give you some advice: Don't. Be. One.
You know how sometimes you have an idea you think will be hilarious and
clever, but it ends up worse than being trapped under Kevin James in a
Finnish sauna? This is one of those ideas.
"You'll be 10 feet from Bruce Springsteen!" I said to myself. "You'll find
out who all those people are we see every year! The game's going to be a
blowout anyway. What'll you miss?"
So I did it.
Turns out these "fans" are real people—almost 2,000 of them. They're local
teachers, nurses and students willing to rehearse for two 10-hour days and
then show up at noon for a 6 p.m. football game, of which they'll get to see
none of.
Most answered an online ad from the halftime show's producers that read, in
part: "We're looking for enthusiastic volunteers to be part of the on-field
audience."
"YOU'LL BE 10 FEET FROM BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN! THE GAME'S GOING TO BE A BLOWOUT
ANYWAY. WHAT'LL YOU MISS?"
What the 2,000 found out is: The "on-field audience" doesn't get "paid."
They don't get a ticket to watch the game. They don't even get a T-shirt.
They can't bring cameras or cell phones—unless they're a group leader.
They'll be bussed in and bussed out. They will be on the field for 12
minutes and have to sign a release that they won't sue in case they're
flattened by a forklift.
Sign me up!
I didn't even think of the idea until after the two rehearsals had happened.
Thank God. "On Thursday, we stood in the rain for eight straight hours," one
woman complained.
I joined Group U—about 300 people—outside the stadium with a quarter to play
in the first half. Our leader was a terminally perky blonde named Cynthia,
who kept chirping at us: "Keep together!" and "Energy up!" She told one
woman: "No, you can't go pee! I haven't peed all day!"
Volunteers were expected to be "able to run the length of a football field
twice." But I met people who couldn't have run the length of a football
twice. One woman, from Lakeland, Fla., was 61 years old and looked to be
built along the lines of a Good Times hamburger stand. If she was running,
it was going to be Thunder Road. "I've been practicing running up and down
my street" she said proudly.
"Really?" I asked.
"No," she laughed, "not really."
One guy had been to 97 Springsteen shows and wasn't about to miss this one.
One young woman was there to get a rich husband. "I want a senator or a
football player," she said.
And all of us were in the tunnel, waiting for our moment, when we heard one
of the craziest sustained roars I've ever heard in a stadium. Had to be
15-20 seconds.
Turns out we'd missed the most exciting Super Bowl play in history,
Pittsburgh linebacker James Harrison's 100-yard, no-time-left interception
return for a touchdown, the game-turning moment.
Hey, what'll you miss?
Suddenly, Cynthia hollered "Everybody run!" but we couldn't. There were so
many cables, cameras and photographers on the field that it was sort of like
trying to jog through a TSA checkpoint. When they finally stopped us for
good, right on the 50, a woman next to me grumbled, "We were way closer in
rehearsal."
Still, suddenly, there he was—standing 40 feet in front of us, Bruce
Springsteen—buffed and real and smiling at me and my fellow "fans"! And I
thought, when this starts, it's going to be awesome!
And that's when I realized it already had started.
I realized it because I saw thousands of fists pumping rhythmically all
around me. But for the life of me, I couldn't hear a damn thing.
"You can hear him?" I said to one rhythmic fist pumper.
"No!" he yelled.
"How do you know what he's singing?"
"Rehearsals!" he yelled.
"Ohhhh, you could hear better in rehearsals!"
"No!" he yelled. "Worse!"
Turns out the field for a Super Bowl halftime is Audio Nowhere, Springsteen
Unplugged. All the speakers are set in front of the paying customers in the
seats, leaving you at a Marcel Marceau concert.
Telling you: Don't. Be. One.
A friend of mine in the stands said she could hear Bruce "perfectly." And
then she added, "And what about that amazing play at the end of the half!!!"
Yes, unforgettable.
Afterward, I was sullenly ignoring Cynthia's exhortation to "Run! Run
people!" when I saw my favorite all-time guitarist, Nils Lofgren,
Springsteen's lead, walking off the field, one arm around his mystical
guitar and the other around an hourglass blonde.
"Great show, Nils!" I lied. "Was that the best stadium concert you've ever
done?"
And he looked at me like I had Slinkys for eyes.
"Uh, well, every concert with Bruce is a guaranteed home-game victory," he
said. "The only thing we don't know beforehand is the point spread. But this
was a big win."
Speak for yourself, pal.

[brldsguise]

Another first person point of view:

SUPER BOWL JOURNAL
View Journal with Photo Album
I
Six Air Force Thunderbirds have just roared overhead at what felt like inches above our backstage area, giving myself and the entire E Street Band a brush cut. With 20 minutes to go, I'm sitting in my trailer trying to decide what boots to wear. I've got a nice pair of cowboy boots my feet look really good in, but I'm concerned about their stability. Two days ago we rehearsed in full rain on the field and the stage became as slick as an ice pond. It was almost impossible to stand on. It was so slick I crashed into Mike Colucci, our cameraman, coming off my knee slide, his camera the only thing that kept me from launching out onto the soggy turf. When Jerry the umpire in "Glory Days" did his bit, he came running out, couldn't stop himself and executed one of the most painfully perfect "man slips on a banana peel" falls I've ever seen. This sent Steve, myself and the entire band into one of the biggest stress-induced laughters of our lives that lasted all the way back to our trailers. (A few Advil and Jerry was okay.)

I better go with the combat boots I always carry. The round toes will give me better braking power than the pointy-toed cowboy boots when I hit the deck. I stuff my boots with two innersoles to make them as fitted as possible, zip them up snuggly around my ankles, stomp around in my trailer a bit and feel pretty grounded. Fifteen minutes…oh, by the way, I'm somewhat nervous. It's not the usual pre-show jitters, not "butterflies," it's not wardrobe malfunction anticipation anxiety, I'm talking about five minutes to beach landing, "Right Stuff" "Lord Don't Let Me Screw the Pooch in Front of 100 Million People" one of the biggest television audiences since dinosaurs first screwed on earth kind of semi-terror. It only lasts for a minute…I check my hair, spray it with something that turns it into concrete and I'm out the door.

I catch sight of Patti smiling. She's been my rock all week. I put my arm around her and away we go. They take us by golf cart to a holding tunnel right off the field. The problem is there are a thousand people there, tv cameras, media of all kinds and general chaos. Suddenly, hundreds of people rush by us in a column shouting, cheering…our fans! And tonight also our stage builders. These are "the volunteers". They've been here for two weeks on their own dime in a field day after day, putting together and pulling apart pieces of our stage over and over again, theoretically achieving military precision. Now it's for real. I hope they've got it down because as we're escorted onto the field, lights in the stadium fully up, the banshee wail of 70,000 screaming football fanatics rising in our ears, there's nothing there. Nothing…no sound, no lights, no instruments, no stage, nothing but brightly lit unwelcoming green turf. Suddenly an army of ants come from all sides of what seems like nowhere. Each rolling a piece of our lifeline, our earth onto the field. The cavalry has arrived. What takes us on a concert day 8 hours to do is done in five minutes. Unbelieveable. Everything in our world is there…we hope. We gather a few feet off the stage, form a circle of hands, I say a few words drowned out by the crowd and it's smiles all around. I've been in a lot of high stakes situations like this, though not exactly like this, with these people before. It's stressful, but our band is made for it…and it's about to begin…so happy warriors we bound up onto the stage.

II
The NFL stage manager gives me the three minute sign…two minutes…one…there's a guy jumping up and down on sections of the stage to get them to sit evenly on the grass field…30 seconds…they're still testing all the speakers and equipment…that's cutting it close! The lights in the stadium go down. The crowd erupts and Max's drumbeat opens "10th Avenue." I feel a white light silhouette Clarence and I for a moment. I hear Roy's piano. I give "C"'s hand a pat. I'm on the move tossing my guitar in a high arc for Kevin, my guitar tech, to catch and it's…"ladies and gentlemen, for the next 12 minutes we will be bringing the righteous and mighty power of the E Street Band into your beautiful home. So…step back from the guacamole dip. Put the chicken fingers down! And turn the TV ALL the way up!" Because, of course, there is just ONE thing I've got to know: "IS THERE ANYBODY ALIVE OUT THERE?!"

All I know is if you were standing next to me, you would be. I feel like I've just taken a syringe of adrenalin straight to the heart. Before we came out, I had two major concerns. One, something might go wrong beyond my control. That completely disappeared before we hit the stage. Tonight our fate is in the hands of many, so no sense for useless worry. Two, I was worried that I would find myself 'out' of myself and not in the moment. My old friend Peter Wolf once said 'the strangest thing you can do on stage is think about what you're doing." This is true. To observe oneself from afar while struggling to bring the moment to life is an unpleasant experience. I've had it more than once. It's an existential problem. Unfortunately, right in my wheel house. It doesn't mean it's going to be a bad show. It may be a great one. It just means it might take time, something we don't have much of tonight. When that happens, I do anything to break it. Tear up the set list, call an audible, make a mistake, anything to get "IN." That's what you get paid for, TO BE HERE NOW! The power, potential and volume of your present-ness is a basic rock and roll promise. It's the essential element that holds the attention of your audience, that gives force, shape and authority to the evening's events. And however you get there on any given night, that's the road you take. "IS THERE ANYBODY ALIVE IN HERE?!"…there better be.

I'm on top of the piano (good old boots). I'm down. One…two…three, knee drop in front of the microphone and I'm bending back almost flat on the stage. I close my eyes for a moment and when I open them, I see nothing but blue night sky. No band, no crowd, no stadium. I hear and feel all of it in the form of a great siren like din surrounding me but with my back nearly flat against the stage I see nothing but beautiful night sky with a halo of a thousand stadium suns at its edges. I take several deep breaths and a calm comes over me. I feel myself deeply and happily "IN."

Since the inception of our band it was our ambition to play for everyone. We've achieved a lot but we haven't achieved that. Our audience remains tribal…that is predominantly white. On occasion, the Inaugural Concert, during a political campaign, touring through Africa in '88, particularly in Cleveland with President Obama, I looked out and sang "Promised Land" to the audience I intended it for, young people, old people, black, white, brown, cutting across religious and class lines. That's who I'm singing to today. Today we play for everyone. I pull myself upright with the mike stand back into the world, this world, my world, the one with everybody in it and the stadium, the crowd, my band, my best friends, my wife come rushing into view and it's "teardrops on the city…"

III
During "Tenth Avenue" I tell the story of my band…and other things "when the change was made uptown"…. It goes rushing by, then the knee slide. Too much adrenalin, a late drop, too much speed, here I come Mike…BOOM! And I'm onto his camera, the lens implanted into my chest with one leg off the stage. I use his camera to push myself back up and…say it, say it, say it, say it…BLAM! BORN TO RUN…my story…Something bright and hot blows up behind me. I heard there were fireworks. I never saw any. Just the ones going off in my head. I'm out of breath. I try to slow it down. That ain't gonna happen. I already hear the crowd singing the last eight bars of "Born to Run" oh, oh, oh, oh…then it's straight into "Working on a Dream"…your story…and mine I hope. Steve is on my right, Patti on my left. I catch a smile and the wonderful choir, The Joyce Garrett Singers, that backed me in Washington during the Inaugural concert is behind us. I turn to see their faces and listen to the sound of their voices…"working on a dream". Done. Moments later, we're ripping straight into "Glory Days"…the end of the story. A last party steeped in merry fatalism and some laughs with my old pal, Steve. Jerry the Ump doesn't fall on his ass tonight. He just throws the yellow penalty flag for the precious 40 seconds we've gone overtime…home stretch. Everyone is out front now forming that great line. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the horns raising their instruments high, my guitar is wheeling around my neck and on the seventh beat, I'm going to Disneyland. I'm already someplace a lot farther and more fun than that. I look around, we're alive, it's over, we link arms and take a bow as the stage comes apart beneath our feet. It's chaos again all the way back to the trailer. A toast…our families, friends, Jon, George, Brendan, Barbara, with Don Mischer, Ricky Kirshner, Glenn Weiss, Charles Coplin, and Dick Ebersol, the great team that put it altogether and the end of a good football game.

IV
The theory of relativity holds. On stage your exhilaration is in direct proportion to the void you're dancing over. A gig I always looked a little askance at and was a little wary of turned out to have surprising emotional power and resonance for me and my band. It was a high point, a marker of some sort and went up with the biggest shows of our work life. The NFL threw us an anniversary party the likes of which we'd never throw for ourselves (we're too fussy) with fireworks and everything! In the middle of their football game, they let us hammer out a little part of our story. I love playing long and hard but it was the 35 years in 12 minutes…that was the trick. You start here, you end there, that's it. That's the time you've got to give it everything you have…12 minutes…give or take a few seconds. The Super Bowl is going to help me sell a few new records, that's what I wanted because I want people to hear where we are today. It'll probably put a few extra fannies in the seats and that's fine. We live high around here and I like to do good business for my record company and concert promoters. But what it's really about is my band remains one of the mightiest in the land and I want you to know it, we want to show you…because we can.

By 3 am, I am back home, everyone in the house fast asleep and tucked in bed. I am sitting in the yard over an open fire, staring up again into that black night sky, my ears still ringing…"Oh yeah, it's alright."

[missalabamanobody]

Feb 6, 2009 8:29:00 GMT -5 stevedave said:

Miss Alabama. Thanks for taking the time to give us that fantastic insight. Fascinating reading. I really enjoyed the show. And your writing.

Now stop groping Rock Legends and get back to work.

I'm not the author, sadly. I will, however, grope any rock legend who happens to cross my path. If I want. So there.

[Deleted]

there was an article in Salon ages ago about how men always objectify female musicans they write about (i got crap for it in a friggin Joanna Newsom review) but women get critisized when they objectify Springsteen
it also had the line 'who wouldn't want to strap their hands around those engines?'

*shrug*

[dot info]

Did you say "I''d sprout HER bean"?