A middle-aged man and his twenty-something son are exhausted in their town. They have sweaty brows. They are not the only ones in that situation. This is the Metropolitano and a Bruce Springsteen concert just happened here. One of those three-hour, exhausting ones, where the singer tests his resistance at 74 years old and that of his audience. If he gets out of there with his heart beating and without a tear in his knee ligaments, he has won a battle against the laws of nature. We can do everything. Or almost. Last night there was another Springsteen concert in Spain (which will soon reach 60 appearances, since that debut in Barcelona in 1981) impetuous, muscular, festive, exciting. Four more are missing in the next few days: June 14 and 17 also in the red and white field, and the 20 and 22 in the Barcelona Olympic Stadium.
Before yesterday’s recital, the fan was immersed in anxiety after the cancellation of the four previous recitals due to the star’s aphonia. After 18 days of rest, the musician reappeared last night at the Atlético de Madrid stadium. Will he be okay? Will he reach the planned 30 songs with voice? Will he growl with his usual vitality his stories of characters embracing that breath of hope that allows them to get out of bed every morning?
Perhaps because of this recent fragile health, one of the verses of Promise Land took on a special meaning last night: “Sometimes I feel so weak that I want to explode.” The American hero appeared recovered. But he suffered something at first. His voice was nowhere to be found and Bruce closed his eyes, arched his right eyebrow, and wrinkled his forehead. His performance was therefore more valuable. After four or five songs his throat became hot and the hoarseness rushed out of the Metropolitano. Until another time, damn you.
The stadium was almost full, about 45,000 spectators, in an estimate made by eye by this reporter since the promoter, Doctor Music, did not provide the information no matter how much he insisted. This same promoter announced months ago that all tickets had been sold, a questionable fact since there were some empty seats in the stands.
Dressed in his concert attire (jeans, vest, black wristbands, tie) and tied to his Fender, the New Jersey musician offered 180 minutes of a recital that was not his alone, since Springsteen’s concerts have been held for many years. They belong to everyone; even those who don’t attend, because they will surely catch another show on the tour or because today someone will tell them in detail how much fun they had at the Cívitas.
One of the keys to Springsteen’s live performances is the control he achieves over the temperature of the show: knowing how to place the pieces of a legendary songbook; not stop playing the classics, but also not be obvious and satisfy the demanding fan with unexpected songs; provide festive rock and, at the same time, shake the heart with compositions of slow execution. Up and down; ecstasy and reflection. All of this happened last night in the company of an E Street Band that perhaps it would be better to call the E Street Orchestra, since at times there were up to 18 musicians on stage. Highlight, among all, Max Weinberg. Behind the foreman, supported by a platform, he was impressive with the drumsticks, demonstrating that with a simple drum kit you can perfectly drive a feverish locomotive like the E Street Band. It is that natural, elegant and warm style that the much missed Charlie Watts wore.
There is no known band so numerous in rock that sounds so compact and identifiable. The combination of pianos, organs, saxophones, trumpets, choirs and guitars offers a clear and natural sound, with Bruce always at the forefront: he does not leave the stage for a single second in the three hours and does not allow himself a break even to have a drink of water. When he stopped hitting his guitar with machetes, the audience knew the party was coming. He would leave his instrument or move the strap and put it on his butt, go down some stairs and reach the fence where the public was gathered. Then, Bruce would high-five people, let himself be hugged, give away harmonicas, dance holding the hand of a follower… Mass baths that no veteran star does.
In addition to being a rocker, Bruce is also a talented comedian. He has moderated his physical display (it would be necessary) and no longer drops to his knees in a sudden manner or sprints from one end of the stage to the other. He sweats just what the song asks of him and that allows him to perform such demanding concerts. At times it seemed like a recital from the eighties, with young people standing on shoulders and without cell phones in their hands.
In such an impeccable recital there were particularly outstanding moments. That Lonesome Day opening the night, majestic half time; the speed of No Surrender; If I Was a Priest, gospelian and with a brilliant guitar solo by Steven Van Zandt; the soulera version of Nightshift, of the Commodores; My Hometown y The River, that he chained and that he sang with his eyes closed and emphasizing the verses with his right hand; a Last Man Standing alone, with the guitar and a shocking silence throughout the stadium; a Badlands with an a-po-te-o-si-co ending; a Born To Run who struggles to believe it after thousands of interpretations (thanks, Bruce); a disgraceful Twist and Shout, the first song he performed in his life, at the age of 16, and which he maintains today in his live performance…
A repertoire that, let us not forget, follows the tradition of Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan, the holy trinity that freed many people to say the things they thought. Because this man’s concerts end up being a three-hour life manifesto with songs that denounce the immorality of war, racism, repressive behavior for migrants or the lack of opportunities for the working class to access a comfortable life. There are the messages, for those who want to understand them.
Springsteen put on the best rock and roll show anyone on this planet can experience. Not only does he play: he is inspired by Elvis Presley, Janis Joplin, John Steinbeck, The Ronettes, Barack Obama, The Beatles, John Ford, Bon Dylan, James Stewart, William Faulkner and Donald Duck. Everyone was part of the atmosphere of the night. The last half hour was celebrated with the general lights of the stadium on in constant euphoria. To end at the other emotional extreme: Bruce alone on stage performing I’ll See You in My Dreams, where he sings: “Death is not the end.”
In essence, Bruce’s concerts are about celebrating life, no matter how bloody it may be; to trust that this sick world will heal a little, no matter how complicated it may seem; and to hug the person next to us when he rings Hungry Heart, for many social and ideological differences that distance us.
Subscribe to continue reading
Read without limits
_