Live Music Head goes to Detroit
April 11-12, 2012
Baby, I've been down, but never this down
I've been lost, but never this lost
This is my confession, I need your heart
In this depression, I need your heart
Baby, I've been low, but never this low
I've had my faith shaken, but never hopeless
This is my confession, I need your heart
In this depression, I need your heart
I haven't always been strong, but never felt so weak
And all my prayers gone for nothing
I've been without love, but never forsaken
Now the morning sun, the morning sun is breaking
This is my confession, I need your heart
In this depression, I need your heart
This is my confession, I need your heart
In this depression, I need your heart
This is my confession, I need your heart
In this depression, I need your heart
I've been lost, but never this lost
This is my confession, I need your heart
In this depression, I need your heart
Baby, I've been low, but never this low
I've had my faith shaken, but never hopeless
This is my confession, I need your heart
In this depression, I need your heart
I haven't always been strong, but never felt so weak
And all my prayers gone for nothing
I've been without love, but never forsaken
Now the morning sun, the morning sun is breaking
This is my confession, I need your heart
In this depression, I need your heart
This is my confession, I need your heart
In this depression, I need your heart
This is my confession, I need your heart
In this depression, I need your heart
~ Bruce Springsteen
(This Depression, Wrecking Ball)
(This Depression, Wrecking Ball)
He honest-to-god saved me.
First it was what he was saying in the press,
prior to the release of his latest album,
Wrecking Ball;
talking quite openly about the anger he has
toward the powers-that-be
for driving his country into economic peril,
with such a lack of humanity.
And then after the record was released,
I was completely bowled over
by the lyrics of the songs,
notably track six.
It’s as if The Boss has been living inside me
for the past two and more years.
I could have written that song myself.
I’ve been depressed, have confessed,
and reached out for heart.
Reached out for heart like never before,
and found none.
So when I heard this song,
I felt truly validated.
Funny how that can happen through music;
the understanding, acceptance, and validation
that one receives
through the powerful words and voices of artists
we don’t really know.
Yet the people who claim to know
and care about us the most;
our employers, families, lovers,
and closest friends,
only seem to judge; control, criticize, and dismiss.
Selfishness begets heartlessness.
Hard times begets heartlessness.
Heartlessness begets inhumanity.
Now I’ve been a fan of Bruce Springsteen
my whole life long,
collected all his music,
and attended many shows over the years.
Yet, it still blows me away
to find that at this stage of his career,
Springsteen could release an album this strong,
and so bloody well on the mark
of how many of us feel out here.
Of course he’s not really
doing anything different, is he?
Bruce Springsteen is, and always has been,
a cheerleader for the underdog,
viewed by many,
despite all his wealth and success,
as “one of us”.
And perhaps that’s why
we need him more now, today,
than we’ve ever needed him before.
Like Evelyn McDonnell said
in her Los Angeles Times review
following the first of two
Memorial Sports Arena shows..
“he has an unmatched gift
for expressing our national pain,
and also delivering us from it.”
Statements such as this may be
a little over the top for some folks,
but for me,
it has never wrung more true.
And it is my opinion that
The E Street Band is
the Greatest Rock and Roll Band
in the World,
for not only capturing the true spirit
and essence of rock and roll,
but for expressing all the hopes,
dreams, romance,
and heartbreak,
embedded within it.
It became a top priority for me
to see The Boss again,
and as soon as possible.
So when the 2012 tour dates
were announced,
a plan was put into motion immediately.
New York City?
New Jersey?
Sure, I’d love to!
And yes, Philly...
for I could finally run up the steps of the
Philadelphia Museum of Art while I’m there,
just like Rocky Balboa did,
my other hero.
But it was Detroit and Buffalo that got booked,
being Buffalo to Toronto is a no-brainer.
And while in Detroit,
I could finally visit Hitsville USA,
and bring some tourist dollars
to one of America’s most
economically-challenged cities,
with a population on the decline.
I tell you this,
from a hand-out I received last March
while visiting Occupy Wall St
in that other state...
“The 99% includes both
communities and people
who have been impacted for decades
by the policies and behavior
of the corporate class,
and communities and constituencies
who have felt the impact
of these polices more recently.
It is important that at this critical moment,
we unite in our fight
to create a more economically just,
democratically controlled,
and environmentally sustained country.
We believe that the needs and interests
of ALL communities
need to be addressed in our struggle.”
So,
on April 11,
after a three-egg breakfast
at The Daily Brew,
a Greyhound was boarded.
Destination: Michigan USA.
Jukebox was with me,
a novel by Dick Cooper.
He quotes F Scott Fitzgerald
on the first page:
“Grown up.
And that’s a terribly hard thing to do.
It is much easier to skip it,
and go from one childhood to another.”
Hmmm, sounds like me.
I may be all grown up and haired over,
but hey,
I’m still chasing rock stars
across the fucking border.
“I had delusions I could live a normal life.
Which I can’t.
I had delusions I could have
a normal relationship.
Which I can’t.”
~ page 1, Jukebox
The height of my mid-life crisis may be over,
but the urgent need to connect with the one
who validated me,
had me feeling sexy,
and seventeen.
“Hangovers. Aging. Scratches. Stings.
These are a few of my favourite things.”
~ page 29 Jukebox
When I wasn’t reading,
I listened to The Boss on my iPod.
“Come on, take your best shot,
let me see what you got,
bring on your Wrecking Ball!”
Bring it on!
Some three hours later,
I overheard myself saying,
“Don’t leave without me
Mr Greyhound Driver!”
as I was hauled in at the Detroit border.
Now I’m completely comfortable
crossing borders anytime, anywhere,
but I have to say,
each and every time I’ve crossed at Detroit,
there’s been a definite edge.
The calendar pages of my mind
flipped backward to the last time I crossed,
to see Tom Waits at the Opera House in ‘06,
and the many large border guards
we had to get by,
and I mean large.
But we did get past,
and the best line Waits
delivered at that show was...
“Roses on my piano?
The only thing better
than roses on my piano is...
tulips on my organ.” (!!)
I also saw Robert Plant
at Joe Louis Arena in 1983,
where,
I shit you not,
he mouthed the words “I love you”
directly to me from the stage.
I reacted by falling off the front row seat
I’d been standing on.
And then there was Ratdog in 1998,
where high as a kite
and dressed in Deadhead attire,
I paced the sidewalk outside the State Theatre
yelling “I love America! God bless America!”
while twirling a tiny U.S. flag on a toothpick.
Hell, I even saw Motley Crue in the Motor City.
Not because I’m a fan,
but because a friend took me.
It was sometime in the eighties,
and I forget where (laughs),
but it was the loudest show I ever attended,
leaving me deaf for three days straight.
All this is to say,
despite the edginess,
I always have a good time in Detroit.
The great Alice Cooper was born there,
for god’s sake.
Detroit rocks!
So back to April 11, 2012,
and the interrogation desk where I now stood
in front of at least a dozen
intimidating uniforms who asked me
at least two dozen questions,
including...
“So where exactly is
Bruce Springsteen playing?”
Soon I was no longer in Canada,
but in a stateside motel
staring at a king size bed
that would be totally wasted on little ol’ me,
as the desk clerk so flirtingly pointed out.
Before what would prove to be
rather eventful days that lay ahead,
I ignored the seedy-sounding voices
outside the ground-floor window,
and hunkered down to write a bit.
But that proved futile
when the moans and groans
of the people having sex next door
began penetrating the wall above my head.
With a finger pressing down heavy
on the volume of the remote control,
I watched the little bars increase
on the tv screen.
Law & Order it would be,
with a great big bag of rippled potato chips,
and a cup of orange-flavoured herbal tea.
Pretty darn fittin’ for a middle-aged
rock and roll chick of seventeen,
if you ask me.
by Reggie at Hitsville,
(the house that Motown built)
and a guided tour
of the premises by B’Daren.
Surrounded by black and white images
of the recording process,
I tried to absorb all the history I was hearing,
while staring at an entire wall of
everything Marvin Gaye.
Record producer Berry Gordy Jr,
founded the Motown label in 1960.
And one of the first singers
to record for the label
was Smokey Robinson,
the same legendary singer who co-wrote
The Way You Do The Things You Do
(made famous by The Temptations);
a song that, coincidentally,
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band
started playing on the 2012 tour
at NYC’s Apollo Theatre,
in honour of Motown.
Yet another reason
I wanted to see The Boss
in the city of Detroit.
The museum was founded in 1985
by Esther Gordy Edwards, Berry's sister.
“Its mission is to preserve the legacy of
Motown Record Corporation
and to educate and motivate people,
especially youth,
through exhibitions and programs
that promote the values of vision,
creativity and entrepreneurship.”
- Motown Museum website
Some of the legendary artists
who recorded at Motown
were Martha and the Vandellas,
Diana Ross and The Supremes,
Stevie Wonder, The Jackson 5,
Gladys Knight and The Pips,
Otis Redding, Billy Preston, Lionel Richie,
Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons,
and The Spinners,
to name only a few.
Oh, and The Pointer Sisters too,
who coincidentally,
made a smash hit out of
the Bruce Springsteen-penned song, Fire.
(but recorded it for the Planet label,
not Motown).
We were told the museum has attracted
50,000 visitors per year since 1985,
and did you know that Cheech’s buddy
Tommy Chong
was a Motown recording artist?
Apparently he made an album
with The Vancouvers,
the cover of which was on display.
The kitchen and dining room
on the second floor
were equipped with the original
60s coffee and end tables,
just like the kind I grew up with.
And in the Motown office,
four black rotary telephones
sat on an old desk
alongside a b&w television,
typewriter, fan,
and cigarette machine.
Gold records lined the wall,
with a punch clock.
And for a dime,
you could buy a chocolate bar
from a vintage candy machine.
The furniture was roped off
to prevent anyone from sitting on,
or touching anything,
and there was absolutely no photography
allowed inside the museum,
flash or otherwise.
I watched the short documentary film
inside the theatre,
and made note of what Berry Gordy Jr said
about the recordings made there...
“The music reflects true things.”
Walking past the control room that housed
a large Smokey poster,
I suddenly found myself downstairs
and at the top of them three little steps;
them three little steps that led
into the legendary studio
were carpeted in blue.
B’Daren told us that back when many of
the Motown hits were being recorded,
there was no air conditioning,
and walking down them steps
would usually lead you
straight into a thick haze
of sweaty musician’s cigarette smoke.
I immediately saw two pianos,
one a Steinway Grand.
Cables and mics hung from the walls,
and in one corner, a vibraphone.
In the other,
a Hammond B3 with Leslie speaker.
The guy beside me kept saying, excitedly...
“That’s a Leslie speaker.
Do you see that? It’s a Leslie speaker.”
In the other corner a drum kit with baffling.
The Motown studio,
similar in size to Sun,
that other legendary
recording studio in Memphis,
still has the original walls
of asbestos and peg board.
A few stands held sheet music for My Girl,
and B’Daren soon had us all in a sing-along...
"I got sunshine...
on a cloudy day.
When it’s cold outside,
I got the month of May...”
But we didn’t sound like no Temptations.
Perhaps because it was barely noon,
but we sucked at the sing-a-long.
Sucked!
After taking scores of photos outside,
I bought two fridge magnets in the gift shop,
before bidding farewell
to the house that Motown built
and headed directly for
the Woodlawn Cemetery.
Yes, a cemetery stroll is always
a relaxing thing to do,
and this one was home to a few
late-great Motown artists, now resting.
Arriving at the funeral parlour lobby,
I explained to Leslie,
Woodlawn’s family service counselor,
that although it would be wonderful
to spend the entire day there,
I really only had time to find
James Jamerson, Levi Stubbs,
and David Ruffin,
and could really use some help.
I was told that Stubbs and Ruffin
were fairly close by,
together, in the same section.
But Jamerson was way over on the other side.
So Leslie offered me a drive!
Why is it that I rarely run into people this kind
in my own hometown?
A little ways from the road,
there was a grassy hill;
more like a grassy mound.
I made my way up to Jamerson
after Leslie deposited me at the foot of it.
It was so tranquil there that
I stretched out on the ground,
and rested my head where he rested.
(January 29, 1939-August 2, 1983)
was an American bass player;
the uncredited bassist on most
of Motown hits of the 60s and early 70s.
(Motown did not list
session musician credits
on their releases until 1971).
Jamerson is now regarded as
one of the most influential bass players
in modern music history,
and was inducted into
the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame
in the year 2000 - Wikipedia.
David Ruffin, like Jamerson,
also had an in-ground marker
that I could stretch out on,
and rest my head.
(January 18, 1941-June 1, 1991)
was an American soul singer
most famous for his work with
The Temptations from 1964 to 1968.
He was the lead voice on My Girl,
which became the singing group’s
first number one single.
Ruffin was inducted into
the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1989,
and was ranked #65
by Rolling Stone magazine’s
list of 100 Greatest Singers of All Time.
But unlike Jamerson and Ruffin,
the headstone of Levi Stubbs
stood high above ground,
in solid black
that the sun made shiny.
I hung out for a while beside it,
surrounded by greenery,
and the soft chirping of birds.
(June 6, 1936-October 17, 2008)
was an American baritone singer,
best known as
the lead vocalist of The Four Tops,
a singing group who helped define
the Motown sound of the 1960s.
He was also the voice
of the alien plant Audrey II
in the musical film, Little Shop of Horrors,
and is a cousin to that other soul singer,
Jackie Wilson - Wikipedia.
I could’ve fallen asleep there,
lying on the ground remembering,
so relaxed was I.
But time was ticking.
Just as I was leaving,
several long black limos arrived,
pulling up Woodlawn drive.
May they all rest in peace.
Next stop for me was Auburn Hills,
and the Post Bar
across the street from the Palace.
Upon arrival, the place was hoppin’
for a Thursday afternoon at 3,
with baseball games
playing on every monitor.
It was welcoming and lively,
with cool music blasting overhead:
Elton John, Jackson Browne, Tom Petty,
Billy Joel, Bob Seger, and yes,
Shackled and Drawn
by Mister Bruce Springsteen.
Clearly, someone knew I was coming!
Over a cup of chunky mushroom soup,
I read page 8 of the Real Detroit Weekly...
“The Boss is back –
and no we don’t mean Rick Ross.
The New Jersey native,
Rock and Roll Hall of Famer,
and American storyteller is visiting Detroit
with his E Street Band.
Expect patriotism and good old fashioned
rock and roll,
shot through with political themes
of anger and disenfranchisement
found on his recently released album,
Wrecking Ball.
Doors at 6. Tix $35, $62, and $95.”
I gazed out the window
remembering the time
I was in this very same bar,
prior to a Palace show I attended
by The Grateful Dead in the early 1990s.
Yes, I saw the musical leaders
of the tie-dyed counter-culture;
the band known as
“the original social networkers”
here, in this city, too.
And then I saw a van
with a Yellow Submarine painted on it...
the van for 104.3 WOMC,
Detroit’s Greatest Hits
was parked in The Post lot,
for a picture-perfect photo opp,
which I got.
But over in the Palace lot,
getting a clear photo of a pixilated sign;
that bigass pixilated sign
advertising the Springsteen show
proved a helluva lot harder.
on the endless pavement
surrounding the venue,
I realized that time may have been ticking,
but clearly I still had lots of it.
I thought about Clarence Clemons,
The Boss’ sax man,
and how on the night I heard he died,
another chunk of youthful skin fell off me
and hit the floor with a thud.
I cried and cried and cried.
Not even a year since his passing,
I’m sure Springsteen’s inspiration,
partner, lifelong friend,
and larger-than-life stage presence
is sorely missed by him
and the entire band.
And I’m sure everyone
that enters the Palace tonight,
will be missing him too.
Eventually I wandered up to a group of eight
hanging out on a wall
near the back entrance of the venue.
I was welcomed into their fold
by Lisa Lee and Matt Jones
from Grand Ledge, Michigan.
I immediately felt right at home amidst
the American enthusiasm
of these groupies,
sharing rock and roll stories,
on a stake-out waiting for the band’s arrival.
In fact, we were having such a hoot of it,
that we almost forgot,
(or at least I did),
our reason for
hanging out there to begin with.
But soon I was uttering
the first of many excited
“Oh my god’s!”,
when Max Weinberg suddenly drove by us
in a black minivan.
And Springsteen’s drummer
was waving at us
from his passenger side seat!
When the van pulled up tight
to the back entrance of the venue,
where we could not go,
we stood back and watched
while Weinberg exited the vehicle,
with Jon Landau in tow,
Bruce Springsteen’s manager.
As they disappeared
into the darkness of the Palace,
all I could say was,
“Wow, that was exciting!
Almost as exciting as when I hung out in front
of the Harbour Castle Hotel in 1977
waiting to see
the Bay City Rollers in Toronto, ha!”
I was only 14 then,
and screamed hysterically.
I like to think I’ve matured since...
because I no longer scream,
but choose instead
to repeat a string of “oh my gods!”
which is exactly what happened next.
Just as suddenly
as Max and Jon’s arrival was,
The Boss himself was now going by
in another black minivan,
mere feet from me!
He was sitting in the front
passenger seat as well,
looking directly at me, and waving!
Oh my god!
Oh my god!
Oh My God!!!
We sprung off that wall to a railing
that separated us from him
and watched intently
as the van pulled in tight
to the Palace’s back entrance.
I was wondering if
that was going to be all we got,
when the van doors swung open,
and Bruce Springsteen,
with his security guy in tow,
turned round and began
walking straight toward us.
“Oh my god, The Boss is walking toward me!
Oh my god, I want to take all my clothes off!
OH MY GOD, I MUST PUT MY HANDS ON HIM!
OH MY GOD, COME HERE YOU!!”
Bruce Springsteen brought
his handsomeness close,
and placed his warm hands in mine.
Oh my god, I was only kiddin’
when I sent that tweet out earlier in the day...
“Bruce Springsteen, where you at?”
But here he was,
standing a millimetre from me,
and my hands were on him!
OH MY GOD!
OH MY GOD!!
OH
MY
F&*KING
GOD!!!
I managed to thank The Boss
for his new album,
the album that saved me,
before wrapping my arms around
his manly black-leathered torso.
For some reason,
I can’t now seem to remember
the sound of his voice.
Doh!
But my inner thighs were sure quivering
when he hugged me back.
And when he kissed me on the cheek.
OH MY GOD!
OH MY GOD!!
OH
MY
F&*KING
GOD!!!!!!!
I died,
and went straight to heaven.
Straight to heaven, I tells ya!
STRAIGHT TO HEAVEN!!
Little did I know at the time,
but someone was snapping photos.
And I don’t think I’ll ever forget
the gal beside me,
who stopped Springsteen in his tracks,
when she uttered...
“thank you for making my life happy”.
The statement caused The Boss
to turn back and say,
“why thank you, darlin’”,
and give her a kiss for it.
The look on her face was priceless;
absolutely and truly priceless.
From then on I watched the man in a daze,
giving his love so patiently
to all the other fortunate ones, like me,
to be there.
And when he too disappeared
into the darkness of the venue,
the daze gave way to focus.
Suddenly I was electrified by
all the joy around me.
I found that gal with
the priceless beaming face,
and hugged her!
Her name?
Why, that was the lovely Bobbie Kaufman,
from Edwardsville, Illinois.
And to Lisa Lee,
saying thank you could never be enough.
For had she not welcomed me
into the groupie fold when she did,
who the hell knows where
I may have wandered off to.
Lisa Lee!!!
Between shoving sandwiches into mouths
at the tailgate of her car
to the chattering chaos
of the lineup into the venue,
a steady stream of “OH MY GOD’s!”
continued to spew.
And when we found our feet
firmly planted on the concert floor
of the Palace of Auburn Hills,
halfway back from the stage
on Little Steven’s side,
more joy erupted
when the lights went down
and the band finally took the stage.
WHA-HOOOOOO!
Nothing quite like
being united inside a rock arena
with thousands of others
who feel just like you do.
“Good evening Detrooooooit!
Boom!
Are you ready for star time?
Boom!
I’d like to introduce you to a man
who was born in the U.S.A.,
boom!
who drove here tonight
in his pink Cadillac!
Boom!
Who’s brought you such great hits as
Born to Run,
Dancing in the Dark,
and Working on a Dream!
Boom!
Who brings to the stage
45 years of playing experience,
and 30 years of psychiatric evaluation!
Boom!
The only man in rock and roll
who insists on introducing himself!
Boom!
Let’s hear it for the Jersey Devil,
Bruce Springsteen
and his E Street Baaaaaaand!!!”
BOOM!!!
And the roof of the Palace was blown off!
WHA-HOOOOOOO!!!!
“We take care of our own.
We take care of our own.
Wherever this flag's flown,
we take care of our own.”
And beneath two enormous-sized
red and white,
and red, white, and blue flags,
Canada met America,
for me, Matt, and Lisa Lee,
stood proudly
for the Detroit opener,
followed by the new album’s title track.
“Yeah, we know that come tomorrow,
none of this will be here.
So hold tight to your anger,
and don't fall to your fears.”
Hell, no!
“Bring on your Wrecking Ball!
Bring it on!
By the third song in,
fists were pumping the rock and roll air,
and kept on pumping.
Hell, yea!
“I believe in the love that you gave me.
I believe in the hope that can save me.
I believe in the faith and I pray,
that someday
it
may
raise
me,
above these Badlands!
You gotta live it every day.
Let the broken hearts stand
as the price you've gotta pay.
We'll keep pushin' till it's understood,
and these Badlands start treating us good.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!”
WHHHHHAAAAA-HOOOOO!
Brothers and sisters,
if I could only have bottled
all the love in the air.
The Boss marched to the beat
in complete defiance of the sorrow-filled
meaning of the song that came next,
my second favourite from the new album...
“Yeah,
sing it hard and sing it well.
Send the robber barons straight to hell.
And the greedy thieves who came around
and ate the flesh of everything they found;
whose crimes have gone unpunished now,
who walk the streets as free men now...
now, now, now...”
Death to My Hometown, boy!
Yes, Death to My Hometown!!
Death to My Hometown!!!
Hell, yea!
Hell, yea!!
Hell, yeaaaaaa!!!
Good ol’ Matt was our keen-eyed guide
for any openings in the crowd,
moving us closer to the stage.
“Just as long as we stay
on Little Steven’s side,” I say.
“Now there's tears on the pillow
darling where we slept
and you took my heart when you left
Without your sweet kiss
my soul is lost, my friend
Now tell me, how do I begin again?”
My City of Ruins
had every hair on my body
standing at attention.
Holy mother of gospel music,
I was in the Church of Bruce Springsteen,
where...
“All the little girls' souls grow weak
when the man-child gives them a double shot.
The schoolboy pops pull out all the stops
on a Friday night,
where the teenage tramps in skin-tight pants
do the E Street dance
and everything's alright.
Little kids down there either dancin'
or hooked up in a scuffle,
dressed in snakeskin suits
packed with DETROIT muscle...
They're doin' the E Street Shuffle.”
Yes!
Yes!!
Yes!!!
Everybody form a line!!!!
The presence of singer-guitarist
Patti Scialfa
was noticeably absent.
And I was missing her.
But apparently the duties
of The Boss’ wife
were better suited at home
as mother for this round.
“There's a sadness
hidden in that pretty face,
a sadness all her own,
from which
no
man
can keep Candy safe...”
Candy’s Room!
Candy’s Room!!
OH MY GOD!
The band is playing Candy’s Room!!
CANDY'S ROOOOM!!!
I wondered how I was gonna survive
the overwhelming emotion
and release of joy, sadness,
happiness, anger, and madness!
But then, it was time to shush,
for Bruce was about to tell a story.
"This is a song I wrote back in 2009,"
said he.
"Needless to say,
we're going through
some of the hardest times
I've seen in my lifetime.
Folks have lost their homes, their jobs,
their retirement funds.
And they've been preyed upon
in such a way
that's absolutely un-American.
Meanwhile, there are folks
who push programs
that cut back on basic services
for those who've been hit the hardest,
to give to the folks at the top...
and to rich guitar players,
a free pass.
When I wrote this
there was no Occupy Movement
or discernible outrage at the crimes
that have been committed,
and the damage that's been done
to people's lives
all across the United States...
but this is Jack of All Trades."
Wha-hooooo!
Oh, how I love you!
"So you use what you've got
and you learn to make do.
You take the old,
and you make it new.
If I had me a gun,
I'd find the bastards
and shoot 'em on sight.
I'm a Jack of all trades,
we'll be alright."
Hell, yea!
Hell, yea!!
Hell, yeaaa!!!
And then came a song
I hadn’t thought of in a while;
a long-time favourite no less,
that turned out to be, for me,
the highlight of the night...
“Now it seems like I've been
sleeping in your bed too long.
And it seems like you've been
meaning to do me harm.
But I'll teach my eyes to see
beyond these walls in front of me.
And someday I'll walk out of here again.
Yeah, I know someday
I'll walk out of here again...”
Trapped!
The band is playing Trapped!
The
band
is
playing
Trapped!
TRAPPED!!
TRAAAAAAAPPPED!!!
My head and heart reeled through
all of that,
only to get bowled over again,
immediately after
with...
“That thunder in your heart,
at night when you're kneeling in the dark,
it say's you're never gonna leave her.
But there's this angel in her eyes
that tells such desperate lies,
and all you want to do is believe her...”
Whoaaa-ho!
SHE’S THE ONE!
SHE’S THE ONE!!
SHE’S THE F@#KING ONE!!!
I died.
Died!
And while Waiting on a Sunny Day,
I recovered.
But then I died again
when I heard the words of
The Promised Land...
“I've done my best to live the right way.
I get up every morning
and go to work each day.
But your eyes go blind,
and your blood runs cold.
Sometimes I feel so weak,
I just want to explode!
Explode, and tear this whole town apart.
Take a knife,
and cut this pain from my heart!
Find somebody itching
for something to start...”
Died,
a wreck;
a blissful emotional wreck,
while listening to Bruce Springsteen
tell another story:
“If you played in a bar
on the central Jersey Shore
in the mid-60s and 70s,
you had to play soul music,
and of course, you had to play Motown.
Motown was a common language that
could get you out of all kinds of jams
on any given night.
When you played Motown and soul music,
everybody got on the dance floor;
black people and white people.
And you had an amazing thing, here,
in this city.
You had a factory that was dedicated to
building things that were emotional
and beautiful...
and hits.
The spirit of that music is something that
has infused our whole lives,
and sits at the centre
of so much of what we do.
So we want to do a song for you tonight
by one of the greatest of all
Motown songwriters,
producers and artists,
and it’s about finding the beauty in that thing,
that’s right there in front of you.”
The Way You Do The Things You Do.
As I stood there listening
to what Bruce just said...
and the E Street Band’s Apollo medley,
I thought wow,
how cool is that?
I just visited there today,
to do the very same thing.
Because The Night belongs to lovers!
Because the night belongs to us!
BECAUSE THE NIGHT!
BECAUSE THE NIGHT!!
BECAUSE THE F^*KING NIGHT!!!
Died,
and went straight to heaven,
again.
And oh, to get my hands on
the mug of Little Steven...
I’d take that mug of his in both my hands,
and kiss his whole face till he couldn’t breathe.
Yes, yes I would.
Little Stevie, oh how I love thee!
“Then I heard voices calling all around.
The earth rose above me,
and my eyes filled with sky.
We are alive!
Though our bodies
lie alone here in the dark,
our souls and spirits rise...
to carry the fire and light the spark;
to fight shoulder to shoulder
and heart to heart.
to stand shoulder to shoulder,
and heart to heart!”
WE ARE ALIVE!
WE ARE ALIVE!!
WE ARE ALIVE!!!
Yes, yes we are!
And the crowd knows all the words
to the new song.
Praise be to Bruce Springsteen
and the Land of Hopes and Dreams!
Because I was slayed again
in the encore with
“Hey that's me,
and I want you only!”
THUNDER ROAD!
THUNDER ROAD!!
THUNDER F#*%ING ROAD!!!
If I had to pick only one
from that classic album,
the opening track it would be.
For it’s my all-time favourite song
by Mister Bruce Springsteen.
I once wrote out the lyrics to
Thunder Road,
in crayon,
on the wall above my
thirty-something bed.
“So you're scared
and you're thinking that
maybe we ain't that young anymore.
Show a little faith,
there's magic in the night.
You ain't a beauty,
but hey you're alright!
Oh, and that's alright with me.”
Died, I tells ya.
Died.
Died.
Died.
And went straight to heaven, again.
“You use your muscle and your mind,
and you pray your best,
that your best is good enough,
and the Lord will do the rest.
You raise your children,
and you teach them
to walk straight and sure.
You pray that hard times,
hard times come no more.
You try to sleep, you toss and turn,
the bottom's dropping out.
Where you once had faith,
now there's only doubt.
You pray for guidance,
only silence now meets your prayers,
the morning breaks,
you awake,
but no one's there.”
But no one’s there.
No one’s there.
No one’s there.
No one’s there.
Jesus, how I can relate!
We’ve been travelling
over Rocky Ground alright.
ROCKY GROUND!
ROCKY GROUND!!
ROCKY GROUND!!!
Damn right.
Thanks to The Boss for writing it,
and Michelle Moore for rapping it.
I felt every single word.
“When I'm out in the street,
I walk the way I wanna walk.
When I'm out in the street,
I talk the way I wanna talk.
Baby, out in the street,
I don't feel sad or blue.
Baby, out in the street,
I'll be waiting for you!”
OUT IN THE STREET!
OUT IN THE STREET!!
OUT IN THE STREEEEEEET!!!
I kept telling myself
I’m sexy and 17,
but my old heart is really forty-eight
and it can’t take much more.
It can!
No, it can’t!
It can!!
No it can’t!!!
But it did,
for they had to go and do it.
Yes, yes they did!
The rolling drum bashes
to open the title track
of the greatest
rock and roll youth anthem of all time...
BORN TO RUN!
BORN TO RUN!!
BORN TO F*^KING RUNNNNNN!!!
“The highway's jammed
with broken heroes
on a last chance power drive.
Everybody's out on the run tonight,
but there's no place left to hide!”
BORN TO F&^KING RUN!!!
And then came something
from that other great big ol’ record
from the mid-eighties.
Ya’ll know the one...
the one with
The Boss’ beautiful blue-jeaned butt
planted firmly in the centre of the cover,
yes?
Of course you do.
“I need a love reaction,
come now baby,
gimme just one look!
You can't start a fire
sitting 'round cryin' over a broken heart.
This gun’s for hire....”
(a line I once had silk screened
across my 1985 breasts).
DANCING IN THE DARK!
DANCING IN THE DARK!!
DANCING IN THE F#@KING DARK!!!
My feet hurt.
My throat was hoarse.
And my lower back shot.
And I just may need both hips replaced.
But the band wasn’t done yet.
Hell, no!
“Kid you better get the picture.
I'm on my own!
And I can't go home!”
TENTH AVENUE FREEZE-OUT!
TENTH AVENUE FREEZE-OUT!!
TENTH AVENUE FREEEEEEEZE-OUT!!!
The images during the important part
drew thunderous applause
and a standing ovation
for the late-great sax player
Clarence Clemons,
The Big Man on the Big Screen!
“From the coastline to the city...
and all the little pretties raised their hands!”
WHAAAAA-HOOOOO!!!
The show came to an end at 11:39pm.
Can I get a Hallelujah?
Can I get an Amen?
We stood there in post-show satisfaction,
completely satiated,
and I wanted a smoke.
But I quit those darn things ages ago.
Outside in the parking lot,
believe it or not
Bruce Springsteen came out again
to greet his elated fans.
Oh my fucking god, man!
And looking so fresh and cool...
how does he do that?
OH MY GOD!
OH MY GOD!!
OH MY GOD!!!
No need to be greedy with another go,
I stood back and watched others
receive a memory to last a lifetime.
And it was then I saw a familiar face;
one I saw during
our afternoon encounter.
I said, “hey,
I remember seeing you earlier.”
He didn’t respond, but looked down,
seemingly more interested in
what was going on with his cell phone,
or blackberry,
or whatever handheld electronic device
he was holding.
But then when he looked up at me,
and raised his hand,
he put that electronic device
smack dab in front of my face.
And there,
right before my eyes
was the most glorious photo
I ever saw in my life.
quivering inner thighs and all,
about to hug Bruce Springsteen!
OH MY GOD!
Are you kidding me?
OH MY GOD!
OH MY GOD!!
OH MY GODDDDDD!!!
Died.
And went straight to heaven.
Yes, yes I did!
Who are you?
How can I get this picture from you?
I have to have it!
I have to have it!!
I HAVE TO HAVE IT!!!
I love you!
I love you!
I LOOOOOVE YOU!
Who are you?
The fella responsible for taking the photo,
(two photos actually,
including the one
at the very top of this blog)
is an enormous Bruce Springsteen fan
who hails from Youngstown, Ohio.
His name is Scott Williams,
and I will love him forever.
Yes, yes I will.
Because thanks to Scott,
everytime I gaze upon these photos,
I am filled with complete and utter joy.
Yes, yes I am.
When I left the Auburn Hills
parking lot that night,
I thought wow,
this visit to Detroit City
certainly tops ‘em all.
Bruce Springsteen lifted the spirits
and brought a ton of happiness
to the citizens of the Motor City,
and at least one visiting Canadian.
And just think
less than twenty four hours later,
I landed in upstate New York
to get the hell rocked out of me again
by Bruce Springsteen
and the E Street Band
at the First Niagara Centre in Buffalo.
Yes, yes I did!
It was Friday the Thirteenth
and Max Weinberg's birthday
when I got shot...
"Point blank,
right between the eyes!
Whoa, point blank,
right between the pretty lies,
I fell.
Point blank,
shot straight through the heart.
Yea point blank,
twisted up
I became just another part of it."
POINT BLANK!
POINT BLANK!!
POINT F*^KING BLANK!!!
About the Buffalo show,
this is all I will say,
and that it was the highlight...
the one that blew me away!
My deepest gratitude to
Bruce Springsteen,
my spiritual saviour,
for putting the spring back in my step.
His is the powerful light
that broke through
the dark cloud
hovering above my head.
With him I would gladly die
and go to heaven
again and again and again.
Yes, yes I would.
Any place.
Any time.
Anywhere.
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band
The Palace at Auburn Hills, Michigan
April 12, 2012 set list
1. We Take Care Of Our Own
2. Wrecking Ball
3. Badlands
4. Death To My Hometown
5. My City of Ruins
6. E Street Shuffle
7. Candy's Room
8. Jack of All Trades
9. Trapped
10. Youngstown
11. She's The One
12. Waiting on a Sunny Day
13. The Promised Land
14. Apollo-Motown Medley
15. Incident on 57th Street
16. American Skin (41 Shots)
17. Because the Night
18. The Rising
19. We Are Alive
20. Land of Hope and Dreams
Encores:
21. Thunder Road
22. Rocky Ground (with Michelle Moore)
23. Out in the Street
24. Born To Run
25. Dancing in the Dark
26. Tenth Avenue Freeze Out
The official Bruce Springsteen website...
The official Palace at Auburn Hills website
The official Motown, Hitsville USA website
http://www.motownmuseum.com/
