Land of hope and dreams

Since the very first time my friend Jeff Haas played it for me, Bruce Springsteen’s Thunder Road has been my favorite song. And being the fan we all know I am, it won't surprise anyone when I say that if I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it at least ten thousand times.

Except here’s the funny part: last Saturday night, I felt like I heard it for the first time.

I flew to New York last Friday for the weekend to see Springsteen On Broadway, Bruce’s new and first Broadway show, where he tells stories about his life, sings a set playlist of songs and reads from his autobiography, Born To Run.

I'm just thankful we didn’t get the understudy.

What I wasn’t prepared for was how intimate, raw, emotional, joyful, tearful and brutally honest the evening was. I can’t imagine any other artist being that open with their audience (not that I spend a lot of time thinking about other artists). But then again, that’s always been part of the attraction to Bruce. He's not hiding behind his songs, he's revealing our shared experiences and feelings through them.

In the show, Bruce tells the stories of his life—his family, his rockstar journey, pays tribute to his late friend, sax player and sidekick Big Man Clarence Clemons, unflinchingly declares his love for his wife Patti— punctuating and adding perspective to them with carefully chosen songs from his library of forty years. I’ve heard every one of these songs dozens of times in concert. Yet, set in the context of the show, as I said, it felt like the first time.

It’s a scripted show—a considerable change from the mix it up, multi-night gigs and audibles he calls during his arena shows.

And speaking of arena shows, the 950-seat Walter Kerr Theater is about as far as you can get from an arena.

Easily the smallest venue he’s played in thirty years, it’s difficult to imagine a more perfect place both acoustically, artistically, historically and spiritually for Bruce to tell his stories. Yes it's a Broadway theater, but it is every bit as much an essential character in this transcendent experience as the music is.

I don’t want to give away a lot about the show, because I have friends who will be seeing it soon. I will say this: be ready to laugh, cry, reflect, rejoice, pray (you heard me), be grateful and celebrate with 950 of your newest, closest friends.

There is a point in the show when Bruce talks about his music and the journey we’re all on, hoping he’s been a good traveling companion along the way.

Frankly, I never would have made the trip without him.

The change was made uptown and the Big Man joined the band

One night my wife and I were sitting second row at a Springsteen concert at the L.A. Sports Arena. It wasn’t an unusual place to find us.

As Bruce and the E Street Band were playing, she leaned over and asked me who I’d want to be onstage. Naturally I said Bruce. Then I asked her the same question. She took a beat, looked up onstage at Clarence, then replied, “Mrs. Clemons.”

I cried tonight when I heard Clarence had died. Not only for the fact of his passing, but for the end of any hope he might recover from the massive stroke he had almost a week ago.

For anyone who saw the last tour, it was easy to see it was a painful time for the Big Man. After two hip replacements, two knee replacements, major spinal surgery, and the wear and tear of carrying his larger than life frame around for 69 years, the Clarence of old – the one who danced with Bruce, jumped down to the runner of the stage, acted in sketches when Bruce was hamming it up (which was often) – was already gone.

His movement was limited to standing up from his ornate, throne-like chair at the side of the stage that he spent most of the concert in, and playing those unimaginably soulful, powerful, moving and profound sax solos as if it were the first time.

He was almost as much a part of the show as Bruce.

It’s virtually impossible to imagine E Street without him. And I guess in the larger sense, he'll always be onstage with them whether he's there or not.

Lots of chatty local news anchors have been wondering if it's the end of E Street. I'm here to tell you it's not. I believe Bruce and the band will tour again, sooner rather than later.

Because in the same way Bruce chose Charlie Giordano as keyboardist after Danny Federici passed away from cancer, he'll eventually choose another outstanding sax player to share the stage with him.

It goes without saying that whoever that turns out to be has some big – really big – shoes to fill.

And while Bruce fans will never be able not to think of Clarence at Bruce's side, they’ll graciously welcome whoever it is because Bruce chose them.

They're good like that.

Together my inner circle of Bruce tramp friends - Kim, Al, Jessie, Chris - have seen hundreds of shows here and around the world. And at every one of them, we talk about how people who aren't there have no idea what they're missing.

I’m so very grateful for all the times I got to see Clarence perform. I’m grateful my children got to see him on E Street.

And I’m especially grateful that Bruce knows continuing to play the songs Clarence loved and lived to play, and to keep rocking it hard, is the best and most lasting tribute he can pay to his dear friend.

Tonight, heaven is blessed.

And Gabriel is thinking he's never heard a horn sound so sweet.

The Big Man is in the house.

Clarence Clemons 1942 - 2011

I'll have a post of my own about Clarence as soon I can regain my composure and collect my thoughts. In the meantime, the post from Bruce:

It is with overwhelming sadness that we inform our friends and fans that at 7:00 tonight, Saturday, June 18, our beloved friend and bandmate, Clarence Clemons passed away. The cause was complications from his stroke of last Sunday, June 12th.

Clarence lived a wonderful life. He carried within him a love of people that made them love him. He created a wondrous and extended family. He loved the saxophone, loved our fans and gave everything he had every night he stepped on stage. His loss is immeasurable and we are honored and thankful to have known him and had the opportunity to stand beside him for nearly forty years. He was my great friend, my partner, and with Clarence at my side, my band and I were able to tell a story far deeper than those simply contained in our music. His life, his memory, and his love will live on in that story and in our band.