Considering that the first E Street Band tour was in 1985,
the second in 2003 and the latest one a mere five months ago, this announcement
was totally unexpected. If fact this
appears to be the reason for the tour.
An article in this morning’s edition of The Age stated that Bruce and
the band were staggered by the response of the Australian audiences during this
year’s tour and this provoked the realisation that Australia hadn’t been
treated especially well during the band’s history.
It was this aspect of the announcement that did not surprise
me in the slightest. As I noted in my
posting for 26 March, Bruce had visited Australia at awkward times in the E
Street Band’s history. The 1985 tour in support of Born In The
U.S.A. marked the zenith of his popularity here and the 2003 tour in support of
The Rising was noticeable for the promoter’s over estimation of the size of his
fan base. Both meant that long term long
core fans felt slighted with tours being organised seemingly to favour theatre
going/occasional fans in preference to them.
The scaling down of venues for this year’s tour, particularly in
Melbourne, was for many Bruce diehards the opportunity to see the band in the
manner they’d always aspired towards. The
result was a continuous expression of “Bruce love” throughout the tour which
had been building, more or less, without an appropriate release valve since
1975. For me, the show I saw at Rod Laver Arena, was exactly the type of show I had expected but never seen here. As satisfying as it was, it was nevertheless a shame it took
so long to occur.
But that was the past and it would appear that The Boss,
bless him, is hell bent on putting things right. No doubt, the greatest winners are the good
folk of Perth and Adelaide who’ll get to see the real thing for the very first
time. And Miami Steve will be with the
band this time. But for us in Melbourne there’s
the additional good news that there will be a support act in the guise of the
mighty Hunters And Collectors. This band
has barely performed live since breaking up over a decade ago and on the last
occasion in which they did reform (the Sound Relief charity gig at the
Melbourne Cricket Ground for the victims of Victoria’s bush fires a few years
back), lead singer Mark Seymour indicated that he couldn’t foresee a situation where
the band would reform again. Given that the composition of Bruce’s current
version of The E Street Band is similar to that of the Hunna’s, odds are great
for a massive inter-band jam during the show.
And will Bruce be covering Throw Your Arms Around Me?
And so to celebrate, I ditched the shuffle and headed for an
early album by the boss:
(#542) Bruce
Springsteen – The Wild, The Innocent And The E Street Shuffle (1973)
This was Bruce’s second album and the last before the band’s
sound solidified with the addition of Roy Bittan and Max Weinberg. It is unquestionably his most musically
diverse album and contains a number of tracks in areas that remain largely
unexplored to the present day. Opening
cut, The E Street Shuffle has a nice funky feel (a note to Bruce: this is the
number to do with H&C), Wild Billy’s Circus Story (not surprisingly) is set
against the New Jersey fairgrounds and Kitty’s Back is the closest thing the
band has come to recording to a studio jam.
(Anyone who’s heard bootlegs of live shows from this era will be able to
tell you just how long this could be stretched out; the version on the Hammersmith
Odeon live album is a sprint in comparison.) The ballads are all top
notch and in Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) Bruce produced the most memorable and
enjoyable version of a rock n roll Romero & Juliet ever committed to tape.
I wasn’t able to play more Bruce albums today as I had an off-site
meeting to attend and an early departure from work owing to a late afternoon
wedding. In any case, I also needed to
play homage to The King, today marking 36 years since the death of Elvis
Presley.
It took me a long time to fully appreciate Elvis. My father loved him, but, as I was growing up
couldn’t find much evidence to justify it.
My only knowledge of him come from those god awful movies that were a
staple on afternoon commercial TV as early as the 1970s. The only live footage I saw was his Aloha
From Hawaii special which I remember seeing as it occurred. My father taped the show on a reel to reel
audio tape and, even on repeat, I couldn’t hear what the fuss was about.
All of this explains my immediate reaction when I heard the
news of his death. I was going to school
on a bus which was piping the radio through its PA. As the bus was turning from one street into
another, his death was reported during the 8am news. The first words out of my mouth was a single
word; “Good!”.
Of course that wouldn’t have been the case had it occurred
today. Since his death I’ve had the opportunity to hear
the highlights of his entire career – most of his 50s stuff (especially those
tracks that do not feature The Jordanaires), his sublime gospel recordings,
some fiery live material from the early 70s and the rather good job RCA did in
filleting his 60’s and 70’s studio work and soundtrack material in their Essential
Masters sets. But when I want to
celebrate the man through a single album it’s either The Sun Sessions, or
(#543) Elvis Presley –
NBC TV Special (1968)
This is the soundtrack (since reissued in expanded form) of
his comeback special that, more or less, marked the end of his Hollywood
career. It provides a wonderful overview
of his entire career. There’s gospel, the
brilliant nod to his early days with Scotty Moore and D.J. Fontana and hints to
his future in Las Vegas in the guise of Memories and the final medley. But, in the end, there is only one reason to
own this album. It is the awesome
closing track If I Can Dream, the number he performed in the white suit in
front of the huge ELVIS sign. For one of
the few times in his career, Elvis was presented with a non gospel tune that highlighted
real world concerns which reflected his own personal feelings. The result is a vocal tour de force, a highpoint not just in
Elvis’ career but in the history of 20th Century Popular music. And if you don’t believe me just listen to the
last six lines of the song (starting with “And while I can think, while I can talk”) and prepare to
be swept away. The thought of Elvis singing these lyrics does bring home the tragedy of his career and what could have been. Just think, an album of Springsteen songs – The King Sings The Boss – now THAT would have been something. If I can dream, indeed.
But
at least I’ll be meeting up with The Boss on the road again.
