G'Day Bruce

Going to concerts used to be a primary form of entertainment for me. Some of that just comes with youth, but much of my concert history was because I worked in record retail for 13 years, starting in college. The job was shitty but the perks made up for it: free albums/tapes/CDs, posters, various swag, and of course, concert tickets.

From 1979 to 1996 I saw 95 concerts. In the 28 years since, only 14. And that’s fine… there are far fewer bands that I would even consider going to see. Sweetpea and I have only seen three. One was John Mellencamp, one of her favorites. That was a birthday gift for her in 2019.

Two years ago, we saw ZZ Top. It was my 5^th time seeing them and it seemed like each show was shorter than the last. This time, they started encores after an hour of playing, and the show wrapped up 18 minutes later.

This brings us to last Friday when Bruce Springsteen and the E Street band played Camden Yards in Baltimore. (The baseball park where the Orioles play.) These tickets fell into my lap.

I had considered trying to go when the show was originally scheduled, but you know how Ticketmaster is with the big shows… First, you have to join some kind of club to get a special access password or some shit. Then log on at the split second the website opens for business. And maybe, just maybe, you win the right to pay an outrageous sum for the privilege of being allowed to attend. Who needs it?

Bruce postponed the 2023 concert due to health issues and later rescheduled it for last weekend.

My brother had bought a pair, I suspect on the secondary market, for him and his oldest son to go. But in the gap between the original show and the make-up date, the #1 Son moved to Philadelphia for a new job. #2 son was away at college. So, not wanting to go with anyone else, he offered the tickets to me. So thank you, Bluz Brother, for your incredible generosity.

I’d seen Bruce once before, on his 1985 Born in the USA tour, Pontiac Silverdome, north of Detroit. That was when he was at the height of his powers. He played for 3:20, not including a 35-minute intermission. He also told great stories, had detailed introductions to songs, and genuinely made all 68,000 of us feel like he was talking to each of us. That was an amazing experience. It was like, “How will any other show ever measure up to this?”

Like we did for the ZZ Top show, we decided to make a trip out of it and book a hotel downtown for that night. All the better not to have to worry about sitting in a massive parking lot traffic jam at 11:00 at night.

Unfortunately for us, all the “good” hotels were booked up, no doubt at the moment the new date was announced. But I managed to find a Days Inn about 2 blocks away. Not fancy, but it would do. All we needed was a place to crash for the night. And because this was an “event” night, they wanted $358 for this small, outdated room. Price gouging is real, folks! But whaddya gonna do? It was worth it not to have to fight the traffic.

Anyway, the seats were tremendous. Thanks again, bro! We were in the club level, first row. That’s the tier directly above the lower bowl, and being in the front row, there’s no one to stand up in front of you! Hallelujah! Given that Sweetpea is barely 5’1”, that’s always a consideration.

The place was pretty full but this wasn’t a rowdy crowd. It was mostly a bunch of white senior citizens. I don’t remember seeing anyone younger than 30. But that’s to be expected now at shows from the rock and roll dinosaurs of my youth.

This was our vantage point before the show started. No mosh pit, just some organized folding chairs. The stage was by the centerfield wall, with the legendary Warehouse lurking to the right.

At the stroke of 7:30, the lights went down and the band took the stage. Immediately, I tapped Sweetpea on the shoulder to acknowledge that her prediction was correct that Bruce would open with Hungry Heart. (Opening line: “Got a wife and kid in Baltimore, Jack/I went out for a ride and I never went back.”)

For a 74-year-old guy, Bruce looked damned good. While he was spirited and energetic, he wasn’t doing any more end-to-end stage runs that ended up with him sliding on his knees. 74-year-old knees are nothing to play around with, after all.

This time out, there were no long stories, no charging everyone up like a Baptist preacher. He didn’t say much in this show, in fact, he barely spoke from the opening number until the 15^th song. Until then, all we heard between songs was an impassioned “1-2-3-4…”

I’ll tell you, video screens are what make these big shows enjoyable. I barely even followed the action on the stage… not that you could really see anything. I just watched the near-side video panel. But here, (above) you could see where he came down the steps, up close to the audience. He did that frequently throughout the show. I don’t think video screens became commonplace at concerts until the late 80s to early 90s. Before then, you just had to try to weasel your way up front to get a good view. I know in my old days, when I was going to see a band at a club or small hall, I’d get there when the doors opened, so I could dash up front to get close to the stage. Back then I could stand for the whole show. Now, it’s all about getting a good seat.

Some other thoughts via pictures:

There’s nothing more Rock n Roll than Bruce and Little Steven sharing a mic for a big chorus. I didn’t get to see Steven the first time around so I was glad he was there this time.

Is there anyone who gets a bigger sound from such a small drum kit than Max Weinberg? The guy can really pound. But his kit looks like something you'd get a kid who's just learning.

Saxophone duty was handled by the late Clarence Clemmons’ nephew. If you closed your eyes, it definitely sounded like The Big Man.  The kid played his ass off. One of the night's best moments was during 10^th Avenue Freeze Out. I was wondering how they were going to handle this part… When the line came up: “A change was made uptown when The Big Man joined the band…” they showed the unmistakable silhouette of Clarence, followed by some other pictures of him and the late E Street keyboardist Dan Federici. Oh man, that hit me right in the feels. I actually choked up a little.

Bruce did a cool thing I liked when we went down close to the crowd. It wasn’t exactly Angus Young soloing while being carried through a raging crowd on his roadie’s shoulders, but it was very Man of the People. Nobody was grabbing at him though. Mostly they wanted to take selfies.

As he was winding up with a raucous version of Twist and Shout, he hollered to the crowd, “Do we look tired?” as he wanted to know if the crowd wanted more.

With an incredulous look, he shouted, “You think you can outlast the E Street Band??”

Man, no one outlasts these guys. They may be old, but they run a well-oiled machine. It’s a joy to see people at the top of their craft, entertaining a crowd.

He wound up the show by 10:30, clocking in at an even three hours, (In other words, like more than two ZZ Top shows.) 

Worth every penny.

Director's DVD Commentary: My apologies if you were lured here by the headline and expected to see something about Monty Python's legendary Australian Philosopher's sketch, wherein everyone is named Bruce and they end with the classic "Philosopher's Song," containing the immortal lines:

"Aristotle Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle,

Hobbes was fond of his dram.

And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart,

'I drink therefore I am.'"

It's just that whenever I hear the name "Bruce," this bit is my go-to frame of reference.