Monday 18 March 2013
Allphones Arena
Sydney, NSW, Australia
Bruce Springsteen hasn't toured Australia in 10 years - a long decade that saw the release of five albums, some with the famous E Street Band, some as a solo artist (featuring various E Streeters) and one with the Sessions Band that spawned a whole North American & European tour of it's own.
Ten years ago, I wasn't a Springsteen fan. That's not to say that I didn't know the big songs, the anthems like "Born to Run", "Born in the USA" and, to a lesser extent, "Hungry Heart" and "Dancing in the Dark". I'm late to the Springsteen party, having only really realised what a brilliant, life-changing musician the man they call the Boss is in about 2009. So, whilst other fans have lamented a decade without a Springsteen tour to Australia, I've only been waiting four years, clinging, hoping - praying, even - on and to every shred of a rumour of an Australian tour. As far as that goes, I'm a relative newcomer.
Now, though, I'm a fan, all the way. I love "Jungeland" and "Bobby Jean" and "Lonesome Day" and I went to the show hoping to hear rarities like "Murder Incorporated," "I'm On Fire," or "Racing in the Street." I was pretty sure I'd burst into tears if we got so lucky as to hear so much as a snippet of my all-time favourite Springsteen tune, "No Surrender" from Born in the USA, let alone the entire song.
Every one of the 12,000-odd fans who packed the Allphones Arena on Monday night doubtless had a collection of songs they wanted to hear above all others. And although it's pretty certain that each one of those collections would differ wildly - after all, we're talking about an artist who's been releasing music for the best part of fourteen years - I cannot imagine that anyone who watched the Boss and his E Street Band, all sixteen members of it, on Monday night would have gone away disappointed, even if you wished he'd played more stuff from "Born to Run" and less from the new "Wrecking Ball," or whatever.
And Monday dragged on, as all days at the office do when you know something amazing's going to happen in the evening. There was a sense of great anticipation in the venue, a hum of excitement in those final minutes leading up to the start of the show. Finally, a decade of waiting for a lot of diehard fans, had come to an end, and we were about to see that most famous of New Jersey rock and roll outfits half a world away from the bars and clubs that made them into superstars, yet here, close enough to reach out and touch, or so it seemed.
We'd been teased and spoilt by epic reviews and great set lists in Brisbane. I figured that if a review of tonight's first (of three; Wednesday and Friday to come) Sydney shows describing an event half as good as what was written about the opening night in Brisbane in the papers tomorrow, we'd be in for a rare event. You know what? It was better than I could've hoped: the best music experience of my life, bar none.
This was a show of great power, the most intense three hours plus of rock and roll I've ever heard. NIne days ago, I saw KISS and Motley Crue. Springsteen could scarcely have been any further from those guys. There's no theatrics here, just a bunch of brilliant musicians on a stage in the middle of an area, led by one of the greatest rock and roll songwriters who's ever walked the face of the earth. Combined, it's a musical experience that rivals few others - if any at all! And we caught them all on a night that, surely, will be etched in the memory of every one in the room.
Talk about bringing the power of the music down on us! From the opening Irish jig - a belated St Patrick's Day nod - of "American Land", we roared through the Springsteen landscape, hearing gems like "Prove it all Night", "Adam Raised a Cain" and a ripping, magical, uplifting "Hungry Heart," during which the Boss, a nickname so well earned on this night, surfed through the crowd and back onto the stage.
There were sombre moments, too: a soulful rendition of "My City of Ruins," that poignantly featured spotlights shining on empty stage, where Clarence Clemons and Dan Federici once stood. It's a wonderful thing that the E Street Band continued, and even more wonderful to have another Clemons on stage, Clarence's nephew, Jake, who is as gifted as his uncle was, and the same hulking presence, even at the back of the stage.
Our whirlwind trip through Springsteen's Americana continued. We heard the drum-fused epic, "She's the One" from Born to Run, the haunting title track from The Rising, another raucous Irish jig in "Shackled and Drawn", but perhaps the highlight of the main set was a moment from the Sessions Band days, a rampant, jubilant "Pay Me My Money Down," rivaled by "Waitin' On A Sunny Day," for which he pulled a young girl from the crowd, and handed her the microphone to sing the chorus. The Boss.
By that point in the show, I couldn't see anyone who wasn't up on their feet, clapping, and loving every single second. Springsteen does that, and he effortlessly switches guises: guitar god one moment, soulful preacher the next, big band leader, folk hero and back to a rock and roll legend. All in the space of a little more than two hours. Time flies; it goes by far too quickly. You don't want it to end. The main set ended with Tom Morello losing himself in "The Ghost of Tom Joad," a song - or, at least this particular rock version of it - that seems as though it was made with the Rage Against the Machine guitarist, filling in for Little Steven Van Zandt, in mind. Even if that wasn't the case, Morello made it his own. His playing defies belief. You have to see it to believe it...and even then, you really don't, or can't. It's mesmerising beyond words.
It's the encore that really, really, really got the crowd going. "Thunder Road," began it, but it was "Thunder Road" like you've seldom heard it before, sung by 17,000 strong. It sends chills up and down your spine. By now, the only people sitting down are either disabled or they're just not feeling it - and how could you not be feeling it tonight?
With the house lights all the way up, the rousing radio anthem "Born to Run" shook the foundations of Allphones Arena. The crowd sang it with the Boss. Hell, we could've sung it without him. So, too, "Dancing in the Dark," where the obligatory woman is pulled up out of the crowd - there were hundreds of would-be Courteney Cox's out there tonight, waiting and hoping to see the outstretched hand in their direction - and the two Springsteen anthems were separated by a totally rockin' "Seven Nights to Rock."
Fittingly, the show that no one wanted to end, did so with the band's - and, particularly, Springsteen's - autobiographical song, "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out," complete with an extended intro, during which the Boss is up on Roy Bittan's piano, and featuring, also, a wonderful collection of photos of Clarence Clemons and Dan Federici, flashing on the big screens after the immortal line, "Well, they made a change up town, and the Big Man joined the band!" There's applause, and your skin tingles. Another epic moment in a night full of them.
It's over too quickly. Three hours went by, seemingly, like three minutes. You hang around hoping that the Boss will come back, wanting "Jungeland" or "Glory Days" or "No Surrender" just to top off what's been an unforgettable rock and roll extravaganza.
Well, there's always Friday night... I can't wait already!
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