The Boss

First we had Ronnie Raygun co-opting “Born in the USA.” Flash forward a quarter century, and New Jersey Republican governor-elect Christie makes it known he’s a big fan. Now conservative pundit David Brooks comes out with a tribute. Doesn’t matter that the man himself campaigned for Kerry and Obama; everybody loves the Boss.I’m no exception, although I do qualify my level of fandom. When I set up this blog, I was pleased to see that you can list favorite movies, books, and music in your profile – definitely useful for letting people know where you’re at. I specified “early Springsteen” because, although I could also have cited “early Dead” (back when Pigpen carried more vocals than Bobby) or “classic Airplane” (from when Grace joined until Spencer left), Bruce’s early stuff is truly special to me. When I clicked on the published link, I saw that another dozen people had done the same.Having spent my first 30 years in the Philly burbs, I was introduced to Bruce’s music from the start thanks to heavy rotation on WMMR. I got to see him once at the Main Point (a folk club seating maybe a hundred) and twice at the Tower Theater before he graduated to larger venues like the Spectrum, where his epic three-hour sets included stunts like vanishing from the stage in a blackout during “Spirit in the Night” and reappearing in an upper deck to finish the song. I particularly cherish a memory of looking down at the Tower’s stage from the balcony while Bruce sat at the piano singing a slow “Thunder Road” and Suki Lahav backed him up on violin; unfortunately, all evidence points to Suki having left the band by then, and no published setlist substantiates my memory. Oh well, there must have been something in the air....The anticipation in Philly of Born to Run was palpable, but the wait for that was nothing compared to Darkness. And when the latter was released, I remember seeing the cover for the first time and saying to myself, “What’s going on here?” The beard was gone and so was the smile. The lyrics were leaner, the vocals throatier. It was a new Bruce, hipster transformed to working stiff, and I wasn’t sure I liked him as well. I bought The River and Nebraska, then I stopped.

For me, the first three albums are touchstones – as iconic as Dylan’s first three ventures into rock – and the only thing that tops their magic is the fabled bootleg The Saint, the Incident, and the Main Point Shuffle, a radio concert from Feb. 5, 1975. (Yes, David Brooks got the date wrong.) Born to Run had yet to be released, and it’s startling to hear the band launch into the title track without any audience recognition whatsoever. “Thunder Road” was still being worked out, called “Wings for Wheels,” but “Jungleland” was nearly finalized. The real gems are a down-tempo “Incident on 57th Street” kicking off the set, widely regarded by those who’ve heard it as the definitive version, and a “New York City Serenade” embellished with stunning improvisation. And the one thing I still find curious is that, so soon after its appearance on vinyl, “Sandy” already features the “angels on Harleys” lyric replacing the girl bopping down the beach with the radio. I’ve always wondered what prompted him to make that change.

By the time he’d recorded the 2000 concerts released as Live in New York City, Bruce had solidified his working-man persona despite his liberal activism – so much so that cops felt betrayed by the scolding he gave them in “American Skin.” While I enjoyed the HBO special and find the CD exhilarating, I’m still bothered by the change in his voice, its almost geezer-ish quality in spots. Back at the Main Point, the opening lines to “Jungleland” were a street-smart kid delivering a cinematic vision; now it’s like grandpa spinning a yarn.

Early Springsteen was youthful exuberance incarnate, and I’ve wondered what kind of impact Bruce would’ve made if his career had been launched with Darkness. Maybe it wouldn’t’ve mattered – but maybe he wouldn’t’ve attracted fans like me or the other dozen bloggers whose profiles make the same distinction mine does. We’ll have to get together sometime and share memories. Because they’re utterly indelible.