The evening started on an ominous note, having nothing to do with the band. First, we finally got to meet Rich and Mary-Ellen. This was a good thing, even if they did bring their piercing equipment and were more than willing to use it. But, we also learned that the remaining CommuniTees had been confiscated by the local "authorities." Memo to Bruce: Give them back the shirts. The money is going to the KAC. It's not a secret, they're not illegal, and they don't cost 30 bucks a shot. Give 'em back.
Our seats last night were behind the stage. I haven't been nehind the stage since '92, but I am now convinced that these are among the best seats in the house. While it's true that we spent much of the evening looking at Bruce's butt (a bonus to some), we could also plainly watch all of the band members play their instruments. There's Max, nearly rising out of his seat while playing some songs, and utterly dominating the stage. There's Clarence, always acknowledging the rear stage fans before belting out another solo. There's Danny, with his 3 sets of keys, and there's Roy on the other side, enjoying every solo as if it were new. There's Garry, climbing up the drum stand and playing to the rear stage, and there are the guitar players, Nils, Steve and Patti, picking their spots to shine.
>From rear stage, we could also see the audience. The Bretons and Craig down in the 3rd row, Debbie right behind them; Dave and Christy across the aisle, Lauren in front, Chris and Yvonne a row back. The Man in Black upgrades right in front, with looks of bewilderment and awe. And the cameras. Everywhere, the cameras (note to picture takers: don't use flash, especially delayed flash!). And, finally, on the side, little Jakey Kern, at 4 seeing his first show, pulling at Lowell's hair during "10th Avenue Freeze-Out."
The performance highlights for me included an impossibly tense "Point Blank," the shortened new gypsy woman story for "10th Avenue Freeze-Out," a couple more strong tour debuts, and a rendition of "Meeting Across the River" that was pure magic. And, "Jungleland." The solo. Has Clarence ever sounded better than that? The show last night was short by Springsteen standards - shorter even than the Asbury rehearsals - but shorter and tighter works for me.
The audience was mostly into it, but unfortunately we got stuck in front of some classic Jersey yakkers. I'm from Jersey, and I'm convinced it's something in our air, 'cause they just don't make 'em this way anywhere else. These people were talking to each other during "The Ghost of Tom Joad" about going to the bathroom. Jeez, ladies, just go! Go, and let us hear the damn song. We finally told them to STFU; our first STFU kill since the STFU tour. Thank goodness the yakkers were the exception, at least around us.
I'll have to go into withdrawal again. No more shows until the mysteriously
delayed Detroit shows. By which time we'll be ready for more.
The Setlist
Don't Look Back
The Ties That Bind
Prove It All Night
Two Hearts
Something In the Night
Factory
Point Blank
Youngstown
Murder Inc.
Badlands
Out In the Street
Tenth Avenue Freeze-out
Janey, Don't You Lose Heart
Working On the Highway
The Ghost of Tom Joad
Meeting Across the River
Jungleland
Light of Day
Bobby Jean
Born To Run
Thunder Road
If I Should Fall Behind
Land of Hope and Dreams