Bruce Springsteen might be, to many of my blog readers, a well-known, 70+ years of age rock star; to others, he might be more than a comfortably-off musician: “A great American artist” is a description that I heard recently. On the other hand, Bruce Springsteen’s music might pass you by, swept along in a pantheon of performers and musicians. For my wife and I, a collection of albums and CDs accompany a mere ten concerts attended, a small fraction of attendances clocked up by more ardent fans than ourselves.
To attend a Bruce Springsteen concert is, to us, more than being present, listening, watching, and singing. There is something almost undefinable that lies beyond the music and its familiarity; there is a kind of spirit, a current of understanding, a bond between performer, his monumental E-Street band, and audience. Something genuine is afoot: it is as if Bruce Springsteen (aka The Boss) is playing his last, giving his all for us for just one more night. I either read or heard him say recently something along the lines: “last night’s performance has gone. There is no tomorrow, just tonight’s performance.” This commitment sums up The Boss’s work ethic and the energy that he invests in a performance.
The spirit of Springsteen was in evidence under the closed roof of the Principality Stadium in Cardiff on the evening of Sunday 5th May 2024. He doesn’t have to do this at the age of 74, one thinks: he doesn’t need the money. He does it because he can, because he lives for the affection and thrives on the adoration perhaps? I don’t know why he does it; I only know that he and his band seem to be having a hell of a good time doing it and giving us a really good time for three hours.
No sound system is going to be perfect in a massive stadium: there will be echoes and other distortions. However, one accepts these distractions and particularly during quieter and contemplative songs one can appreciate how this great musical artist can address a huge crowd when surrounded by his band or on his own. There was one moment during Last Man Standing when Bruce Springsteen stops playing his acoustic guitar, leaving only his voice to fill the stadium, sending out words of loss of a friend to find their way into the heart of the crowd.
At another point in the evening, The Boss adopts a kind of a preacher character, urging us with our responses to give voice to our feelings. “I need some help” he pleads. We roar our reply and hurl it to the stage.
After almost exactly three hours, the E-Street and its boss have given their all. Bruce Springsteen returns to the stage, alone but for an acoustic guitar and gives us I’ll See You In My Dreams, a poignant farewell to an adoring audience.
At breakfast in our hotel in the Bay Area (of Cardiff) the following morning, complete strangers engage us in conversation, on the assumption that we have shared in the spirit of Springsteen the previous evening.
At the coffee machine: “Great show last night”.
“Brilliant,” I reply. “That cover of The Commodores Night Shift.”
“Yeah, superb. Take care of yourself.”
“And you.”
Tour Tee-shirts are in evidence at several tables in the breakfast restaurant. The spirit of Springsteen will linger long after the next morning though. If previous tours are anything to go by, a CD of the concert will be available soon, giving voice to a lasting memory of the performance that we attended.
By his own admission, the question that Bruce Springsteen is often asked is: ”Why do you keep performing?” When we returned home, I found the answer in the forward to his autobiography Born To Run. “A furious fire that don’t quit burning.”
Long may the fire keep ablaze.
David Muir 