Bruce Springsteen | 04.05 | San Jose

Words by: Dennis Cook

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band :: 04.05.08 :: HP Pavilion :: San Jose, CA

Bruce Springsteen Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band

Some legends are true. The best ones help us lift our head from the pillow every morning, and the worst ones make us pull the covers high when we chase sleep at night. Myths that endure give us shared stories to inspire and intrigue, cutting across tribal and age lines to illuminate the truths that shine past one day, one moment, one hour. We find ourselves at a curious new frontier in rock ‘n’ roll today – the time of the aging rocker. Where once rock celebrated an early burn out and fade, we now have rock musicians collecting Social Security checks and worrying about liver spots. It’s a strange mirror to hold up to a cultural and musical phenomenon so closely tied to youth. But, the benefit of longevity is a lifetime of many years to build one’s rep, one’s catalog and, indeed, one’s legend. And there’s few more mythic artists in the genre than Bruce Springsteen and his rock, rhythm & blues army, The E Street Band.

It was impossible to walk into the HP Pavilion last Saturday night without being at least somewhat aware of the monumental reputation Springsteen and the E Streeters possess as live performers. Too many witnesses and live recordings lay in their wake to deny them serious respect in this arena. But, one look around at the crowd – a primo recruiting pool for the AARP – and it was also natural to wonder if these guys still had it. The physical demands of a concert alone partially dictate that this is a young person’s game. What became abundantly clear moments after the lights fell was this band that announced they’d “prove it all night” in 1978 had no intention of giving any ground 30 years later.

Dressed entirely in black, the eight members stepped onto a 360-degree view stage dominated by a baby grand piano and the prettiest full size organ. A giant carnival hurdy-gurdy, like something lifted from an ornate merry-go-round, heralded their arrival and then dropped below deck. Without sets, fancy lights or any of the other usual distracting big act bric-a-brac, they placed the focus right where it should be – the music. “Hello, San Jose,” bellowed Springsteen, a joyous rumble to accompany the steely glint in his eye, something apparent on the big screens overhead, which actually added real intimacy to this indoor arena. A close-up matters when the musicians in question communicate so much of their internal process through their movements, expressions and mannerisms, as Springsteen and company did in San Jose. Opener “Out In The Street” invited us to their block party and reinforced their strong identity with lines like “I walk the way I wanna walk/ When I’m out in the street/ I talk the way I wanna talk.” There’s a fair amount of machismo inside this music, which makes the tenderness and aching compassion of so many pieces that much more poignant. A tough guy that cries is always kind of appealing.

This tour the lineup is Springsteen (lead vocals, guitar, harmonica), Nils Lofgren (lead guitar, backing vocals), Steven Van Zandt (rhythm guitar, backing vocals), Garry Tallent (bass), Clarence Clemons (saxophone, backing vocals), Soozie Tyrell (violin, backing vocals, percussion, acoustic guitar), Max Weinberg (drums) and Charles Giordano (organ) filling in for an ailing Danny Federici. Most have been on this ride for decades and the level of confidence and communication between them is huge. They serve these songs as a calling and the level of fire in their bellies was something to behold. Lines of determination are etched in their faces, and that near ecclesiastical resolve filtered into the music from the get-go, bursting forth with real heat on second selection, “Radio Nowhere,” introduced by Springsteen asking, “Is everybody alive out there?” Live, “Radio” was tougher, more pointed than on Magic, Springsteen’s latest album which tried to bottle this voluminous energy with variable success.

Bruce Springsteen

This music, as demonstrated by the differences in “Radio,” isn’t about restraint or neat shells. This is church music for grease monkeys and waitresses, dock workers and butchers, folks up to their elbows in all the messy things it takes to keep this rockin’ world turning around. As much as any Sunday mass or afternoon turn to Mecca, what this group wrought at this show was spiritual. I’ve never been one of the truly faithful, wandering away from Springsteen as often as I’ve embraced him, but I know church when I see it, and the choir was testifying all night. Springsteen never flinched from his place at the pulpit, standing firm, often with his electric guitar held over his head, and letting his steadfastness feed the solidarity in the room. He is a lightning rod for his band’s inspiration and the charge they commute to audiences. A great deal of force travels through his frame and there were moments he seemed quite shaken by it all, mostly in a positive, smiling way that now openly accepts the love showered on him. He’s earned this place in American culture through hard work, dedication to his craft, an instinct for great collaborators, huge natural talent and a finely tuned ear for changes in the social climate. Why shouldn’t he bask in it a bit?

It was striking how fundamentally American this music is. From the gorgeous sweep of “The Rising” to the finger-snapping, sock hop abandon of the “Detroit Medley,” one heard echoes of Aaron Copeland, Motown, James Brown, Woody Guthrie, Mitch Ryder and many more. The E Street Band is part folk orchestra, part dance concert band. They were sparing in their solos, so when they took them, like Lofgren on “Prove It All Night,” their sting was incredible. By focusing on ensemble play over individual spotlight moments, the entire thing moved with tremendous economy of form and grace of execution. In short, these muthafuckas know how to play AND when to pipe down for the greater good.

Notably absent was Springsteen’s wife and longtime bandmate Patti Scialfa, leading some to speculate about their marriage. As if sensing these skeptics, Springsteen explained that his missus stayed behind at home because they have three teenagers who needed tending. They were fine with the pot brownies coming out of the oven as they were leaving but when the Girls Gone Wild bus pulled up they thought one of the parents should stay behind. “Patty will kick their assess,” chuckled Springsteen. This explanation has become a “bit” on the current tour, a nod back to vaudeville and his awareness that despite the often-lofty themes in his compositions this is still about entertainment on some level. It wasn’t the only spot of shtick but one can hardly begrudge someone who does this night after night a few showbiz tricks like the premeditated clowning Springsteen engaged in with Clemons and Van Zandt at various points. When you play big it also helps to play broad and these old road dogs know how to coax a laugh from a stadium of woozy supporters.

The structure of the setlist underscored the inclusive nature of this music, which at its core seeks to erase class and racial distinctions as well engender hope amongst the most downtrodden of us. From the crier’s call of “Reason To Believe” to the battered faith of “Livin In The Future” to the final raucous sing-a-long of “American Land,” Springsteen and his compatriots poured sweat and muscle into helping raise the spirits of everyone gathered together.

There’s diamonds in the sidewalk, the gutters lined in song
Dear I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long
There’s treasure for the taking, for any hard working man
Who will make his home in the American Land

The title cut from Magic was introduced, “Here’s to the end of eight years of bad magic.” Watching them work was akin to sorcerers casting spells to ward off evil, maybe most especially the kind that lurks in our own hearts. What makes so much of Springsteen’s recent work resonate is how in taking on targets like the Bush Administration, he never forgets the evil that all men do, always including his own failings and miscalls. There’s something grandly romantic to his catalog, and watching BMW and Lexus owners sing about “tramps like us” certainly smacks of some slight hypocrisy. But, no one is off the hook in Springsteen’s schema and that’s what truly brought the capacity audience together at this performance, whether they realized it or not. Rich or poor, black or white, famous or unknown, we all pass the same coin to the Ferryman when we reach the River Styx. How we conduct ourselves before that ride matters, and Springsteen reminds us of that constantly.

As they leapt from boisterous epiphany to banging crescendo, a quiet voice ringing hard with capital “T” truth whispered in our ear, “We are all in this together.” It is an almost superhuman feat to create genuine intimacy amongst such a large number of people, to find stillness and honest recognition in the midst of chatter and commerce. Springsteen and his superb E Street Band hit that mark again and again and again. To call the experience stirring would undersell it a good deal. Suffice it to say, they broke through the “fourth wall” and touched an arena where they lived. Stunning.

04.05.08 :: HP Pavilion :: San Jose, CA: Out in the Street, Radio Nowhere, Lonesome Day, Gypsy Biker, Something in the Night, Magic, Trapped, Reason to Believe, Prove It All Night, She’s the One, Livin’ in the Future, The Promised Land, Fire, Incident on 57th Street, Devil’s Arcade, The Rising, Last to Die, Long Walk Home, Badlands
Encore: Detroit Medley, Born to Run, Glory Days, Bobby Jean, American Land

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