Never could I have imagined how much one man’s music could effect my life, yet here I am reflecting on a lifetime of inspiration, born of heartfelt lyrics and stories, of soaring guitars, sumptuous sax and piano solos and drums that reverberated n your gut. It is a look at how those tools brought such joy and love to so many like me. And all that from an unassuming, skinny, scruffy guy with a raspy voice from New Jersey.

Bruce’s music entered my consciousness at the tender age of 14, a mere two years after my father’s long illness had led to his death. To my young ears and wounded heart, it felt like these first two albums were delivered to save me. They represented hope and that was a feeling I hadn’t known growing up.

I was a Delaware kid, from the suburbs north of Wilmington in a town called Claymont, which was nowhere until President Biden. He too grew up there. It was just shy of the Pennsylvania border. Highway I-95 was built in my backyard where woods once stood, forever robbing us of peace and quiet. It wasn’t anyone’s definition of paradise. Our household felt unlike anyone else’s I knew. I have a physically challenged older brother, who loves musical theater, so all I heard on the record player prior to Bruce, were show tunes and classical played by my mom. She was an art teacher, a frazzled single parent after caring for my dad as he faded away. And then there was my feisty and affectionate Russian grandmother, Nadia. Her presence was a godsend. But her reaction to Rock music was itself a broken record… “Vhy do dey schrrreem?” That’s all I ever heard.

Needless to say, Rock n’ Roll was very unpopular in my house, but it stirred my soul in ways I never knew prior to hearing it. I was determined to make it my own, but it made me for friction on the heels of already challenging times.

Before all the heartaches, Atlantic City was where my family headed each summer for a token week-long vacation, while Dad was still able to walk. The carnival atmosphere was intoxicating and magical. A favorite activity was riding rental bikes on the boardwalk, which made a distinctive clacking sound, not unlike that of a train as they rolled across the sun-drenched boardwalk. And yes, the pinball “pleasure machines” were ubiquitous.

I can recall the day I happened to hear Bruce’s first two albums at a friend’s house while playing pool in his den. It instantly felt like I was back at the Jersey shore, carefree and joyful like that ten-year-old kid again. But it was more than mere nostalgia. The music also offered the stuff I craved as a teen; rebellion, escapism, girls, cars, characters, parties, and the promise that there was something bigger and better awaiting. There were also standout tunes like Incident on 57th Street, which to my ears, sounded like it was straight outta West Side Story. This was significant, for it helped make Bruce’s music and lyrics that much more relatable. It wasn’t such a stretch after-all.

When one of us finally landed a driver’s license in 1975, we took advantage of it and bought tickets to Bruce’s show at the Widener College Field House in Chester, PA. The venue was a typical gymnasium with horrible, echoing acoustics. There were two shows in early February. Our show was the first, on the night of the 6th. We eagerly got in line in the freezing cold, waiting with shivering anticipation to enter the hall, but the start time was delayed by at least an hour and a half, and no one explained why. It was years later that I learned from one of the many Bruce books, that his manager, Mike Appel, had 8’ sheets of acoustic foam hung across the entire ceiling like bats in a cave. This helped dampen the gym reverb. Bruce’s attention to such acoustic detail would become legendary in and of itself as the years would pass.

Shortly before the doors were to open, someone realized the foam was within reach of the cig lighters that were held up like beacons at concerts. It was a fathomable horror should one of the panels get lit. The place could have gone up in flames. Countless sheets of foam had to be raised higher, enough to alleviate any possibility of this happening. Now in hindsight, this is a novel memory, and needless to say, the show was well worth the wait. It was an introduction to a journey that would last a lifetime.

This was the tour where Bruce’s violinist Suki Lahav, a young Israeli gal in a flowing white dress, played such gorgeous sounds, it sent chills down your spine. It was all so powerful, so authentic and heartfelt, and it was unlike most bands from that time. In encompassed many genres of music. That night, I was indoctrinated, converted and forever committed to this man and his music.

By mid 1975, I had my version of a freedom machine, a 1972 blue VW Super Beetle. Notably, stuffed in what was called a “hatchback” for this model Bug, by lowering the back seats, was my prized souvenir from that memorable concert, a sheet of the gray acoustic foam that I managed to steal at the end of the concert. By standing on my tallest friend’s shoulders, I just managed to wrap my fingers around the bottom edge. One quick yank, and the calliope, including me, crashed to the ground. That foam served as luxurious bedding for me and my girlfriend Sharon. It was an incarnation of Spirit in the Night and/or Growin’ Up, manifesting in my teenage world. Later, this trusty vehicle would take myself and my best friend Joe out west on an epic, camping journey that set the stage for where I would call home as an adult, and where I’d be seeing a lot more Bruce concerts.

From Darkness to The Promised Land

Time passed in 1976. Graduation was in June, and big plans were made in study hall prior to the big day. I had to get outta that town. It was a deathtrap; a suicide rap and I chose Colorado for college and skiing. By now, besides Bruce’s music, skiing and photography had become my obsessions. With my 8 track carefully custom mounted in the glovebox, my trusty VW gassed up, I was a free spirited seventeen year old. Nothing could stop me. Certainly not my mother. And Bruce came along for the ride like a trusty friend. But as time passed, that first concert began to feel like an eternity ago, like some sort of teenage wet dream that would never be relived again.

In 1978, I was now two years outta high school, living in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, attending college, and skiing in Vail and Aspen, much to my amazement. Life had dramatically improved on so many levels. Then one day, the clouds parted and the gods delivered Bruce back to the promised land. He was finally returning in the flesh, this time to a place called Red Rocks Amphitheater, in Denver. It’s a unique, amazing venue looking like something out of an old western set. We’re talking towering, cathedral scale red rock walls, and wide rows of bench seating, great for dancing. It was a mere three hour drive to this true rock venue. I convinced a few of my soon-to-be luckiest Western friends to join me. They were accustomed to listening to guys like Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson, and I just couldn’t relate. I was an east coast fish outta water, and I’m sure they noticed, but they agreed to come along. By this time, I was already a concert aficionado, so we arrived early, and managed to land great seats in the third row. The wait began but it was a beautiful place to hang out, to take in the scenery and to anticipate the magic in the night, that was to come.

As a budding pro photographer, I decided to risk confiscation and bring my camera. So there we sat, baking in the sun, whiling away the hours. Now imagine my shock when I happened to peer through the telephoto lens, and spot a dark-haired, handsome young dude who happened to be leaning against a flat on the right side of the stage, and suddenly realize it was Bruce, the man himself. I recall it took me a moment, as I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was no longer scruffy faced, but I knew that face well. He was clean cut, polished, mature, and even just standing there, he possessed that cool swagger to his stance. How was it that no one else noticed? There were probably fifty people lounging around in the bright Colorado light, and no one spotted him but me.

He was just taking it all in, gazing up at the amazing rock setting like a tourist. He too was experiencing the place for the first time. My mind was churning. So what now? There was only one thing to do, it was obvious, but it required chutzpah. I casually got up, slung the camera over my shoulder, and nonchalantly strolled to the front of the stage. My heart started racing. And what’s more, I was wearing “the shirt”, the cherished emblem of my youth, my slate gray, yellow silkscreened flag of honor… my Greetings from Asbury Park T-shirt. This was bought by an older friend’s brother at The Main Point in Bryn Mawr, PA, a favorite Bruce venue. The shirt was significant in my mind. I figured he’d know I was a longtime fan with that shirt, and based on his twinkling, smiling reaction, he actually did.

Bruce gave me an affirming, warm smile, nodding as if to say, ‘hey old friend, how ya doin’?’ I was star-struck, and of course he’s had that effect on me for almost 50 years now. Nowadays, I know it was with good reason. Bruce was a legend to me, even back in 1978. I managed to summon the courage to raise the camera, and snap a couple photos, then sheepishly lowered the camera and realized I was staring like a goofy groupie. I had to somehow gracefully break the spell before others realized at whom I was gawking. I didn’t want a crowd to ruin his peaceful moment so I smiled back with as much coolness as I could muster, turned and walked conspicuously back to my seat. I recall being barely able to contain my excitement to my friends, repeating giddily, “That’s him! That’s Bruce!”. ‘Huh? Really?’ They were baffled. Why would a rockstar be hanging around the stage midday? It was one of those moments etched in my mind that I cherish to this day. Bruce has always kept it real.

The show started on time, like the proverbial bolt of lightning. My friends who hadn’t known Bruce’s music, were immediately thrilled and absorbed. By the time he belted out Streets of Fire, the second song, they were enraptured. I remember I looked to my left, and their jaws gaped like converts. It was the power of rock n’ roll in its purest, most impeccable delivery. Every note was intensely and passionately delivered. I felt so proud for I knew all this was coming. This was the era when Bruce unleashed his confidence in his talents, into a show that was crisp, raw, immediate and so powerful. The passion hit you in your gut. He belted out those songs like there would be no tomorrow. He still does this to this day of course, but there’s no denying the power of a rocker like Bruce, finally playing after all the false starts, now in his prime. This was the Darkness tour.

I’ve seen a lot of shows over the years, and none have disappointed, but there was something about this one that seared into my memory bank, a feeling that still makes me verchlempt. It was profound. It was rock history, and I was there.

Wrecking Ball And The Pit

More recently, well ten years ago now, I finally got into The Pit. This time it was in Portland, Oregon and I lucked out. My friend Randy, a Colorado buddy, convinced me in a number of coaching calls, the Pit was worth the effort. He was so right. I landed in the center, third mortal back from the stage. Bruce surfed over me in a crush of excitement, and I helped hoist him back onto the stage with steadfast loyal support. That was a crazy, honorable experience. It’s noteworthy to compare this show to the early ones, for the energy and passion was still there. It was just delivered in a 60 year old version. But to be that close to the man and his band, was nothing short of phenomenal. As others have often stated, it was like a religious experience. I’ll never forget it and will definitely try for The Pit at least once more, before I die.

Neon Lights On Broadway

And then there was the Broadway show. That same friend Randy, now a Bostonian, called me with an idea. How could we not? It was a great trip, starting in Boston, with a drive to Manhattan together that became another fabulous memory.

One of the things I’ve always loved about Bruce’s shows are the stories he’d tell between songs. The older I get, the more I appreciate the art of storytelling, and Bruce is masterful.

Ticket prices calmed down after he extended the run and we jumped at the chance. We checked into the nearby Sheraton and decided to meander down to the theater and check out the scene before his usual arrival around six p.m. We weren’t going to stay, but found ourselves enjoying the folks there.

Even a downpour didn’t thwart our enthusiasm. Luckily, more like fatefully, I had brought “the shirt”. It was stuffed in my pocket in the off chance I could get it autographed.

I must admit, seeing Bruce in person, out of context, is jarring. I guess because he’s become a legend, seeing him on the street like that, was surreal.

So, when he emerged from the SUV onto the sidewalk, I was in awe. He kindly took time signing people’s stuff. I was by the stage door so it was anyone’s guess if I’d get an autograph, and he was about to exit, when he spotted my flag of honor… my forty year old faded, pitted shirt, the one I wore at Red Rocks in ’78, waving above the fan’s heads in front of me. Bruce suddenly stops, looks up and says in that familiar rasp, “Watcha got there?”. I’m stunned to have his attention, and I blurt out, “I’ve been holding onto this a long time Bruce!” He motions to hand it over, holds it up like he’s just found a long-lost treasure, shakes his head and utters simply, “Wow”.

He stares at it like it has teleported him to another time and place. There’s a long pregnant pause, making the moment even more surreal. Then he starts looking for something to place it on to sign it. I offer my back, he shakes his head no, but the guy near him with the Darkness album hands it to him. He lovingly stretches the shirt out over the album, begins to sign his name on the shoulder, and officially places my artifact into rock n’ roll history. I thank him for making my day, he smiles a warm acknowledgment, waves us all goodbye and darts through the stage door.
I’m now on cloud nine. I suddenly feel this strange sense of completeness I never imagined. It was like a special part of my life story, following this American troubadour, had suddenly come full circle.

My only regret is in not mentioning that day at Red Rocks, of me in my shirt, of both of us in our youth. Bruce has done thousands of concerts, but maybe, just maybe, he’d have recalled the moment.

The Broadway show was so affirming, so illuminating… a look behind the scenes of the stories and songs that served us all so well. Afterwards, Randy and I reflected on it all. The Broadway show was conveying what we the fans were all feeling, along with Bruce. Like a shared cross-country drive, we were all reflecting on our lives, how we got here, what it’s all meant, and how sharing the journey made it that much sweeter.

As I write this, Bruce has just announced he’s hitting the road again in 2023. It’s much welcomed good news. Long live The Boss, and the East Street Band. And thanks Bruce… for the memories.

Keith Brofsky
June 2022

Keith Brofsky is a professional photographer working and living in Seattle, WA.
Thanks to Keith for sharing his wonderful Bruce Springsteen journey with the rest of us.
Cheers, Lawrence Kirsch

ps If you have a Bruce story of your own that you would like to share with the Springsteen fan community,
please email with any concert photos (that you personally took), and or personal memorabilia to this email address and I will try to post a new story every week: ForyouBruce99@yahoo.com

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He walked alone with a single spotlight following him to a stool that was placed downstage nearly at the lip of platform. The audience around me erupted with glee, a vocal lava that spewed forth a series of BRUCE!!!!!!!!!!! The refrains echoed off the old arena walls, which basketballer Larry Bird once called, “an oversized gym.”

Despite the mayhem, he sat down quietly in front of a boom mike and an electric guitar placed beside in its own stand like a gun in its holster. At first glance, he seemed like a scruffy waif who could use a little food. Of course, there is nothing in a caterpillar that remotely suggests that it will turn into a butterfly. Nevertheless, the young man who just wandered onto an expansive stage holding a newspaper had inexplicably captured the attention of 15,000 people instantaneously.

As the cries continued to resound throughout archaic Boston Garden, a bulging, shabby, and anachronistic edifice, the spry performer took out that day’s edition of The Boston Globe, September 25, 1978, and began to methodically peruse through it. The audience became transfixed and began to hush themselves to a semblance of quietude. In the meantime, the urchin on stage continued to read the local daily newspaper as thousands looked on with reverent silence.

Suddenly, as if struck by an electrical surge, Bruce Springsteen shot upright, hurled The Globe skyward, lunged for his guitar, grabbed it in one fell swoop, and then screeched into the mike, “Have you heard the news? Everybody’s rockin’ tonight!”

13 months after the death of the first King of Rock ‘n Roll, we who were in Boston Garden at that moment recognized that standing before us was Elvis Presley’s successor. For the rest of the evening, those of us in the old arena hardly sat. We danced, sweated, jumped, and swayed along with a performer and his band who seemed immortal at that moment.

In retrospect, this was just another evening in an extraordinary year that would prove to be Bruce Springsteen’s analog to Picasso’s Blue Period. After a three-year gap between albums brought on by contractual obligations and legal battling with former manager, Mike Appel, The Boss had finally released a follow-up to his seminal disc, Born to Run. On June 2, 1978, Darkness on the Edge of Town was released to universal acclaim. Unlike the adolescent exuberance of Born to Run, “Darkness” was primarily an adult album, a disc whose ballads described a never-land where expectations and dreams were often swallowed up by life’s obligations.

Because he could not legally release the album until that date, the contractual restrictions triggered a wellspring of creativity within Springsteen. Over an 11-month period, Bruce wrote a staggering 70 songs, enough to fill five albums (much of The River was composed at this time as well; the rest of these tunes were eventually released years later on Tracks, a 64-song retrospective). In addition, Bruce had churned out a gaggle of original tunes like pieces of candy to both soloists and bands who then gratefully recorded them that year. These included Patti Smith’s searing cover of “Because the Night,” the Pointer Sisters’ evocative treatment of “Fire,” Greg Kihn’s infectious recording of “Rendezvous,” Gary “U.S.” Bonds’ rollicking version of “The Little Girl,” and five indelible tracks, which Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes included in their most successful album, Heart of Stone.

Springsteen even gave Welch devotee Dave Edmunds, a revered new wave producer and performer, a proverbial chestnut to record, “From Small Things, Big Things One Day Come.” When I first heard Edmunds’ Freddy Cannon-like version in August 1978, a dirge about a young beauty who becomes a waitress and attracts the attention of a well-connected young man, which included the line – She took his order – then she took his heart…” I turned to my girlfriend at the time and exclaimed, “Bruce Springsteen had to have written that!”

What made all of these songs so profoundly intoxicating is that they presented people who resided in a shade-of-gray world, and yet, when an explosion of colors suddenly hit them out of nowhere, it gave them a star of hope. It reminded me of the hordes of Beatles fans who fervidly sang along with John Lennon throughout a live performance of “I’m a Loser.” In the final analysis, the assorted singles that Springsteen ground out like coffee turned out to be about all of us. “The great challenge of adulthood,” Bruce would write decades later in his superb autobiography, “ is holding on to your idealism after you lose your innocence.”

Beginning on May 23, 1978 at the Shea’s Performing Arts Center in Buffalo and ending on December 31 at the Richfield Coliseum in Cleveland, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band performed to 114 audiences from intimate settings to arena-sized venues. Throughout the seven-month tour across both the US and Canada, he performed with his just-as-famous backup group, who were at the height of their individual musical powers. That, of course, meant Clarence, “The Big Man” Clemons on tenor sax; Roy Bittan on piano; Danny Federici on the organ and accordion; Garry W. Tallent on the bass; “Miami Steve” Van Zandt on both rhythm and lead guitar, and “Mighty Max” Weinberg on the drums.

At the time, Bruce Springsteen was just 28-years-old. Buff; ambitious; and unswerving, he was a band leader who prided himself and his group into normally producing four-hour concerts. Given that reality, you would attend such performances with expectations that were off the charts and still be transformed afterward into an oasis of personal emancipation that was both moving and unexpected

. As Los Angeles Times critic, Robert Hilburn wrote later on, “I realized the faith I was beginning to put in Springsteen the December day in 1978 that I drove 400 miles to Tucson, Arizona, to see him in concert – for personal reasons, not as a professional assignment. The show was part of a short western swing near the end of the ‘Darkness Tour’ that skipped Los Angeles…. [a] swell of emotion came to me during Bruce’s concert in Tucson … seeing Springsteen push himself so hard on stage and listening to the eloquence of his songs made me forget about doubts and think about my own dreams again.”

As Springsteen and the E Street Band crisscrossed North America that summer, the word got out that he and his bandmates were putting on a show that was so good that even if you had to sell your soul to see it – you made sure that you did. Consequently, I took the T to the Garden the day that tickets went out on sale, and secured two of them in a loge section 100 feet away from the stage.

In the meantime, Bruce, perpetually attentive to his fans, agreed to have a few of his 1978 concerts broadcast live on local FM radio stations in the Northeast. Through a stereo loudspeaker at home, one could easily feel the indefatigable energy of both the band and its audience. As biographer Dave Marsh wrote, “The screaming intensity of those ’78 shows are part of rock and roll legend in the same way as Dylan’s 1966 shows with the Band, the Rolling Stones tours of 1969 and ’72, and the Who’s Tommy tour of 1969 – benchmarks of an era.”

Thus, just six days before the Boston Garden concert, Bruce performed a particularly enlivening homecoming concert live from Passaic, New Jersey to listeners on such radio stations as WBCN in Boston, WNEW-FM New York, WIOQ-FM Philadelphia and WIYY-FM Baltimore. This now legendary broadcast, expertly mixed by producer Jimmy Iovine, was listened to by hundreds of thousands of fans across the I-95 corridor. Within a year, a pristine bootleg of the radio broadcast, Piece de Resistance, would be sold in record stores in both the US and Canada.

Six days later, after the Boston Garden crowd stood up for Springsteen’s reverent version of “Everybody’s Rockin’ Tonight,” he broke into “Badlands,” the ballad that opened Darkness at the Edge of Town, at a breakneck speed, as if daring his band members to keep up. Right from the get-go, Bruce reminded us all of the crucible of adulthood, admitting: “I’m in a crossfire/that I don’t understand.” Like thousands of other young men in the Boston Garden audience that evening, I was then an angst-ridden young man who wanted to change and take control of my life. As I wrote in a review of the album earlier that summer, “ Right out of the gate, ‘Badlands’ hits the listener smack between the eyes.”

The Boss then went to familiar territory, an audience participatory version of his 1973 classic, “Spirit in the Night,” which featured the familiar call-response echo from the Garden crowd, who repeatedly shouted, “ALL NIGHT!” to his refrain. By the last stanza, even the ushers were bawling, “All night!”

Springsteen then purposely toned it down and dutifully sang a deferential version of “Darkness on the Edge of Town.” The title song of his then new album, Bruce was somehow able to cut to the core of contemporary American ennui, which often stemmed from systemic financial and societal alienation in a nation where one’s hopes and dreams were often defied by reality. This was followed by another poignant ballad about loss and absolution, “Independence Day,” a staggering number about letting go even as one took on the mantle of supposed freedom. As Springsteen wrote decades later in his autobiography, “Our children are never really yours; they’re on loan until they’re all on their own..”

The Boss then revved it up and introduced his first single from “Darkness,” “The Promised Land,” a version that both kicked butt and took names. A veritable rock ‘n roll encyclopedia, Bruce dedicated his harmonica solo that began the piece to the great Delbert McClinton, whose work on Bruce Channel’s “Hey Baby,” back in 1962 influenced John Lennon to imitate it on the Beatles’ first single, “Love Me Do.” For many, including me, the pulsating saxophone solo by Clarence Clemons, which formed the bridge of the ballad, turned out to be icing on the cake.

In a concert of astonishing moments, one of them occurred near the beginning of the song when Bruce motioned to the audience to sing the chorus of the song acapella. Given the fact that the album had only been out for three months, this was a ballsy thing to do, but the Garden crowd was up to the challenge. Ultimately, they nailed it perfectly.

The dogs on Main Street howl

‘Cause they understand

If I could take one moment into my hands

Mister I ain’t a boy, no I’m a man

And I believe in a promised land!”

For his next musical foray, Bruce Springsteen decided to remind his Boston audience that we were not only his captives but his lovers for the evening. Accordingly, he and the E Street Band broke into one of my favorite numbers on Darkness on the Edge, “Prove it All Night.” The number was launched with a flamboyant riff from pianist Roy Bittan, and then The Boss took over for a stellar guitar solo that last three minutes of unadulterated brilliance. He and then band then broke into the recognizable opening refrain, and the song literally took off from there. Not only did he then prove it musically, but his gymnastics throughout the number turned out to be utterly jaw-dropping.

“Goddamn!” shouted one fan in front of me when Springsteen sprint across the stage jumped five feet up onto one of the large speakers, began serenading us from there, jumped down, took 10 steps at a full run, and then slid across the stage on his knees while still playing the lead guitar. I remember thinking at the time that Bruce was a musical centerfielder, and, like Willie Mays, he could get to every ball hit his way.

After such an explosion of sustained effervescence, it was predictable that Bruce would subdue it once again, but to do so with the signature song of “Darkness” bordered on the sublime. Roy Bittan initiated “Racing in the Streets” with an emotive piano introduction, which was not only a stroke of genius, but actually set us up for the radiance to follow. As we were constantly reminded that evening, Springsteen was an old-fashioned balladeer who sang about the plight of “every-man,” individuals whose compromises and decisions led them to settling for the best they could make of their lives. Bruce wasn’t singing about the mapped-out lives of the well-connected, but about the vast majority of us who simply make up the lives we had on the fly. When he got to the capstone of the number, a young woman below me began to weep as The Boss crooned:

But now there’s wrinkles around my baby’s eyes

And she cries herself to sleep at night

When I come home the house is dark

She sighs, “Baby, did you make it alright? “

She sits on the porch of her daddy’s house

But all her pretty dreams are torn,

She stares off alone into the night

With the eyes of one who hates for just being born

For all the shutdown strangers and hot rod angels,

Rumbling through this Promised Land

Tonight my baby and me, we’re gonna ride to the sea

And wash these sins off our hands.”

As Bruce Springsteen sang the haunting ballad, the E Street Band purposely backed in reverence as he completed it on his own. When she thought back at the concert later on, my girlfriend recalled, “Now that was a moment.”

After the obligatory “Thunder Road,” “Kitty’s Back,” and “Fourth of July, Asbury Park (Sandy),” which the audience lapped up, clapped along with, and sang it all back to a jubilant Springsteen, he closed the first half of the show with a transcendental version of “Jungleland,” featuring the incomparable saxophone work of “The Big Man,” Clarence Clemons (from 3:42 – 6:05). Amidst a flurry of helter-skelter chord changes and infectious guitar riffs, Springsteen’s poetry dripped forth images that bored into one’s soul, from “barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a Dodge/drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain,” to “outside the street’s on fire/in a real death waltz/between what’s flesh and what’s fantasy.” At the end of the anthem, when the entire group sprinted off the stage like schoolboys in order to cool off, you thought they would live forever. Sadly, Danny Federici would die of melanoma in 2008. The seemingly immortal Clarence Clemons would then succumb to a stroke three years later.

After a 20 minute “cool-down,” Bruce Springsteen and his bandmates came back onstage for the second set, which began with “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” a sprite holiday tune that he had just begun to include in his sets that fall. The Boss deftly used the brilliant arrangement that Phil Spector first incorporated on his 1963 Christmas album with the Crystals, turned up the energy a bit, and let the mirth of the song takeover. As “The Big Man” began to “ho ho ho” during the song’s bridge, fake snow began to fall from the rafters, covering the Boston Garden stage! Magic.

From his bag of tricks, Springsteen then rolled out five disparate tunes, which he had both written and recorded earlier that year, including “Candy’s Room,” “Adam Raised a Cain,” “Streets of Fire,” and “Something in the Night.” Except the newly-composed ballad, “Point Blank,” which he would include on The River album in 1980, the hyperkinetic participation of the crowd was so intense that Bruce had us sing the chorus lines to every song.

The next number of the set, “Fire,” a hit song for the Pointer Sisters that fall, instantly turned 8,000 women in the Garden that evening into weepy, sweat-soaked sirens all intent on slaying the Odysseus-like figure singing to them. That was followed by The Boss’s smoking version of “Because the Night,” which put Patti Smith’s cover into the proverbial dust in the process. After a Santana-like guitar solo to begin the ballad, Bruce’s distinctive baritone took over:

“Take me now baby here as I am
Hold me close, try and understand
I work all day out in the hot sun
I break my back till the evening comes
Come on now try and understand
I work all day pushing for the man
Daylights gone, take me under your cover
They can’t hurt us now
Can’t hurt us now, can’t hurt us now
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us!”

Of all of the songs Bruce performed that evening at the old Boston Garden, “Because the Night” proved to be the one that most lingered in my memory, mainly because his band matched his passion and his prowess.

The E Street Band then went back to the well for two beloved numbers that had been staples in the group’s repertoire for almost four years to that point. “Incident on 57th Street,” one of the great story-songs from Bruce’s highly underappreciated second album, The Wild, The Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle, focused on Johnny and Jane, two Hispanic-Americans, who found themselves wrapped in the charms and clutches of the New York City gangland. A Scorsese-like plot then unfolded all the way to an unexpected conclusion.

Springsteen then followed this with a non-fictional account of how his own band formed in his hallowed song from Born to Run, “Tenth Avenue Freeze Out.” When Bruce hit the autobiographical third verse and cried out, “When the change was made uptown, and the Big Man joined the band/From the coastline to the city, all the little pretties raised their hands!” the Boston Garden crowd literally erupted with spasms of delight. To add to the luster, an overhead spotlight shone on an ivory-suited Clemons throughout this stanza, which inspired him to project an extra bit of sound from his tenor sax. This caused the audience’s screams to then reverberate to the rafters high above the stage.

Bruce then followed his signature song with two iconic masterworks, “Rosalita,” followed by “Born to Run.” While his version of “Born to Run” was to die for, it was the group’s performance throughout “Rosalita,” that put another exclamation mark on the evening. When the young bard finally punched out the climax of the number at the 4:20 mark, the audience was there, bellowing out the lyrics in unison.

Now, I know your mama, she don’t like me, ’cause I play in a rock and roll band

And I know your daddy, he don’t dig me, but he never did understand

Your papa lowered the boom, he locked you in your room, I’m comin’ to lend a hand

I’m comin’ to liberate you, confiscate you, I want to be your man

Someday we’ll look back on this and it will all seem funny

But now you’re sad, your mama’s mad

And your papa says he knows that I don’t have any money

Well, tell him this is his last chance to get his daughter in a fine romance

Because a record company, Rosie, just gave me a big advance!

Even as Bruce played on, a string of girls climbed onto the Garden stage and kissed him, one of them avec vigueur. Steve Morse of The Boston Globe later wrote that he had never seen such joy onstage. None of us had!

Exhausted and yet clearly exhilarated, The Boss ended the second set with Eddie Floyd’s 1967 soul anthem, “Raise Your Hand,” later made famous by Janis Joplin. For this one, Springsteen played the role of lounge singer and worked the audience with an old-fashioned standing mike as his main prop. That he ended up singing on top of the stage’s tallest speaker system, some 15 feet off the ground, made it even more remarkable. While Bruce was dancing, crooning, and carousing, it was the translucent sax work of “The Big Man” that drove the musical bus on this number to the last note.

After such an explosion of sustained effervescence, it was predictable that Bruce would subdue it once again, but to do so with the signature song of “Darkness” bordered on the sublime. Roy Bittan initiated “Racing in the Streets” with an emotive piano introduction, which was not only a stroke of genius, but actually set us up for the radiance to follow. As we were constantly reminded that evening, Springsteen was an old-fashioned balladeer who sang about the plight of “every-man,” individuals whose compromises and decisions led them to settling for the best they could make of their lives. Bruce wasn’t singing about the mapped-out lives of the well-connected, but about the vast majority of us who simply make up the lives we had on the fly. When he got to the capstone of the number, a young woman below me began to weep as The Boss crooned.

20 minutes later, I poured into an impossibly crowded subway car and headed back to the Woodland T stop feeling as if I had just pitched a nine-inning shutout. Dripping with sweat – we all were – people commenced high-fiving one another as we boarded the train. As if on cue, many of the passengers, all of whom had just attended the concert, spontaneously broke into their own version of “Prove It All Night” as we rolled on into the Boston night on the Green Line.

Often times in life, we invest way too much passion in the stuff of dreams that we sometimes fail to love what is right in front of us. In the end, life is not about searching for the things that can be found, but it is about letting the unexpected happen and finding things you never searched for previously. As he had done throughout the legendary “Darkness Tour” during the last seven months of 1978, Bruce Springsteen ended up giving all of us who had attended his concert that evening a reason to believe.

Shaun L. Kelly
Cape Cod (Eastham), Ma
August, 2018
Shaun is an English teacher at The Greenwich (CT) Country Day School.

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As is the case with my memories of the first time I saw Bruce Springsteen. It will be 40 years since that November 29th show. It seems like yesterday.
Darkness on the Edge of Town was released that year and I had just moved to St Paul with my family. I was almost 16 when the album came out.
My older brother introduced me to Bruce only 2 years earlier, Born to Run. The first time I heard the music & listened to the lyrics, I was a fan

. But it was more than just a fan. It became almost like a religion! I was from a middle class suburban family of 7. I never knew a working class upbringing, but I struggled. I struggled for independence from my father’s reign. I struggled to figure out who I was and where I belonged. While the songs didn’t describe me, or my life, they talked to me about everything I was fighting with on the inside.
When the Darkness album came out, a local radio station ran a satellite feed of a live concert Bruce did at the Agora in Cleveland. It aired on WMMS and I recorded it on an 8 track tape player/recorder. When it was announced he was coming to St Paul I knew I just had to be there. To me it was a pilgrimage. I felt that in order for me to grow and mature, I needed to be in his presence and get blessed. I know that all sounds shallow and childish, but I was still childish in many ways. I was in that teenage DMZ where you are no longer a child, but not yet a man. What I gained from that concert was the knowledge that it’s ok to be confused. It’s ok to struggle. These moments shape us. I learned that it’s not the struggle, but how you respond! How do you handle the good, the bad, and the ugly.
The concert lasted about 3 hrs. I never sat, not even at intermission. My brother and girlfriend went with me, they took me actually, and she was not impressed. I didn’t care. I basically forgot they were there. It could have been easy to talk about the setlist, or performances of the “Big Man” and the rest of the E Street Band, but we can find that info on online. I can honestly say that my life got completely crazy from 1978 – 1989. I almost didn’t make it. Obviously I did and I think a huge contributing factor was the music of Bruce!
Now I have a son that is the same age I was then. I see my life struggles going on inside him. It causes great concern and fear for me. While Springsteen isn’t his type of music, I trust his love of music will get him through. That said, I will encourage him by playing “Darkness” and see if he connects as I did.
Kevin Scott
Chicago, Illinois

Bruce Springsteen Limited Edition Book

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I heard my story writ large the first time I heard Darkness on the Edge of Town. It was 1978, I was 21 and it gave me the courage to believe that I wasn’t going to be stuck in this house of fear and this defeated Northeast town forever. I carried it with me to California

. It inspired and comforted me through depression, parenthood, illness, middle age, loss. And whenever Springsteen comes to my town, I’m there, surrounded by my fellow aging fans, with our aches and pains of body and soul. We all have our own stories, but in every one of them is a chapter called “Rock and Roll Salvation,” subtitled “Bruce.” We are all part of that train that Springsteen set in motion, and now, with the bittersweet summing-up of Born to Run, he’s taking us home.

©Joyce Millman, The Mix Tape 2016

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38 Years of Fandom: A Tribute to Bruce Springsteen
In 1978, I had no clue how much he’d help me weather life’s ups and downs

On November 21, 1978, I saw Bruce Springsteen for the first time. I was a freshman at Northwestern University in Evanston, Ill., and the wild boy I was dating had scored 13th-row tickets to hear some guy I’d never heard. (Yes, Born to Run had been released three years earlier and The Boss had landed on the covers of Time and Newsweek. What can I say? I’d never listened to him.)

This past April 23, I saw Bruce again — at Brooklyn’s Barclays Center, 38–gasp–years after I got my first fix

. I brought my cousin Brenda, who was a Springsteen virgin, just as I had been those many years ago. It was a rush watching her joyful astonishment as he played song after song, 35 in all. It was also a reminder of all that has happened in my life, the highs and the lows, in the nearly 40 years I’ve been a fan.

Back in the fall of ‘78, with a bright future lying in wait, I was focused on school, yes, but also fun. Animal House had come out that summer and fraternity toga parties were all the rage; I was wearing only a leotard and a sheet and downing punch when I met Chris, a junior with an appealing gap-toothed smile, a roguish attitude and a fast car.

The last time I’d seen Bruce before Barclays, at Madison Square Garden, my marriage was already on the rocks, but that didn’t prevent me from buying us tickets.

Up until the night of the concert, my musical tastes had veered toward James Taylor and Linda Ronstadt, but Chris was exciting and new and I was up for anything he suggested, even when that meant him driving to an empty parking lot late at night, gunning his car and spinning around, tires screeching.
A Fan Is Born

I’m sure Chris must have tried to clue me in to what I was going to experience during that night’s Darkness tour, but when we entered Northwestern’s McGaw Memorial Hall, I had no idea what I was in for. There was no opening act, just Springsteen and the original E Street Band: Steven Van Zandt; Garry Tallent; Roy Bittan; Max Weinberg and Clarence Clemons and Danny Federici, now both gone.

That night, Bruce’s 22-song power drive would introduce me to Badlands, Jungleland, Darkness on the Edge of Town and Born to Run. As anyone who’s seen The Boss on stage will attest, it was a jaw-dropping, life-affirming experience; I became a convert and would go on to see him in several venues, including Atlanta’s Fox Theater and Madison Square Garden.

The next day, I went out and bought everything he’d released to date, from Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J. to Darkness on the Edge of Town. My relationship with Chris fizzled a few months later, but the ties that bound me to Bruce would stand the test of even the rockiest of times.
Life Intervenes

I’ll admit to taking a Springsteen breather for several years in between. Born in the USA, released in 1984, would be the last of his albums I would buy for quite some time. It was the same year I moved from my newspaper job in small-town Colorado to an editing gig in Manhattan, where I focused on my career during the day and hit the clubs at night, with Madonna and Michael Jackson supplying the score. I was in my 20s and didn’t have time for marathon sessions spent studying an album’s lyrics till I knew every word, and New York radio did an awful job of showcasing artists like Springsteen.

In my 30s, I married a guy from Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, who’d been exposed to disco while I was dancing in the dark. We enjoyed a lot of music together, led by Lucinda Williams, but he didn’t share my enthusiasm for Springsteen or stadium concerts. So I watched as Bruce came and went, tour after tour. Despite the fact that I was working at Entertainment Weekly, where the music critics would share his latest tunes with me, I lost that part of myself.

Then, in my 40s, we adopted our son; just before his fifth birthday, he was diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome. By then, my employer TV Guide had laid me off and all my energy went into being a special-needs mom — an advocate who would fight for the right diagnosis, schooling and therapy. I had no time for Bruce or much of anything else, for that matter, let alone knowing which new album had been released or when he would be touring.
Endings and Beginnings

The last time I’d seen Bruce before Barclays, at Madison Square Garden, my marriage was already on the rocks, but that didn’t prevent me from buying us tickets. We had seen him once before, during happier times, and I wanted to escape my problems with a few hours devoted to singing at the top of my lungs.

But a few years later, I could no longer deny that the marriage was over. Now I’m in my 50s, separated, with my son away at boarding school, and trying to grab hold of the things once again that made me “me.” That has included rekindling long-neglected friendships and rejoining the Bruce brigade.

So there I was that Saturday night at Barclays Center with the rest of the fanatical crowd, which consisted of everyone from bearded hipsters to middle-aged types like me, some bringing their kids along for the ride.

Turns out Bruce is wearing 66 much better than I am 56; while the icon performed in boots for three-and-a-half hours straight, I wore running shoes to baby my creaky knees. But what Bruce and I do share is a lot more life experience. We’ve both become parents, both lost people close to us, both been through the heartache of love gone wrong.
A Rush of Memories

Of course there were the songs that had the rowdy crowd up on its feet for most of the concert, many of which were performed in ’78, The Ties That Bind, Cadillac Ranch and Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) among them. But it was the slower, sadder songs that touched me in a way they couldn’t have 38 years earlier. When Springsteen said The River is about time flowing by, I nearly cried.

Now that my industry has imploded and I’m trying to figure out how to remake my career, Bruce singing “lately there ain’t been much work on account of the economy” cut me like a knife. Meanwhile, Fade Away, which spoke to the death of a relationship, and Hungry Heart, about our craving for love and companionship, touched on my loneliness after the end of a 20-years-plus marriage.

Yet something about the band’s high-octane performance, the adrenaline rush of the crowd, and my bellowing “Bruuuuce!” helped me defy the years. And for that, I’m forever in The Boss’ debt.

Beth Arky
Writer and social networker, the Child Mind Institute
Original story was posted on Next Avenue

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I knew immediately I had discovered something special. I was obsessed.

Michele DeVinney

When I first heard “Born to Run” on the radio, I knew immediately I had discovered something special. It was 1975, and I was 13 years old and couldn’t wait to buy the album and commit every word to memory. I was obsessed and quickly owned not only Born to Run but soon Greetings from Asbury Park, NJ and The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle. At that point, as owner of all three Bruce Springsteen albums, when some of my peers didn’t own any, I felt I could definitely consider myself a serious fan.

After the long drought that followed, I was excited to hear what Darkness on the Edge of Town was all about and immediately loved “Prove It All Night” which was on rotation on my favorite AOR station in Rochester, WCMF. I was especially excited when I heard Bruce would be playing at the War Memorial (now the Blue Cross Arena) in August of that year. I asked my best friend and partner-in-crime Andrea Willis if she wanted to go, and she declined. (I believe she has since seen the error of her ways!) So I asked her brother Michael, one year older, if he’d like to go, and he quickly said yes. Tickets were purchased (at the princely sum of $6.50) and plans were made for that fateful night. We had tickets for the floor—this was long before the current lottery system which meant we could not only pay to be on the floor but have chairs to boot.

When the evening finally arrived, Michael picked me up around 7, and on our ride we fantasized about what the show would be. We assumed there would be an opening act, though none was announced, and hoped against hope that it might be Patti Smith. Needless to say, when Bruce took the stage shortly after 8, we realized it was all Bruce, all night. We adapted to that pretty quickly.

In some ways, the night is a blur. He opened with “Summertime Blues” which surprised me because I was expecting something from Darkness (which I had yet to purchase). But it was high energy and quickly introduced us to what Bruce concert veterans already knew: there was no one like the Boss live in concert. One song after another, Bruce jumped and slid across the stage in ways I never imagined. The E Street Band, which I feel I underrated before seeing them live, were clearly more than a good backup band, and Clarence, of course, completely stole my heart.

One moment from the show has always stuck with me. While we had chairs, we seldom used them, standing through most of the show. It felt impossible then to sit when Bruce and the boys were working so hard. At one point, I noticed people standing on their chairs, but I knew Michael was a fairly restrained sort and was reluctant to go overboard until one point when I turned to exclaim to him about something and realized I was looking at his knees. He was already standing on his chair so I felt liberated to do the same. The spirit of Bruce compelled us!

Sometime around 10 Bruce left the stage, promising to return shortly. An intermission? At a rock concert? I’d never…it seemed weird, but I figured this meant we were really going to get our money’s worth (again, a princely $6.50) out of the night. Maybe 20 minutes later, after we’d had time to catch our breath (we may have needed the break more than they did), Bruce returned for another hour-plus, completely blowing away any previous concert experience I’d ever had. But the night was not over—not by a longshot.

After the show “ended,” everyone knew at least one encore was coming because he hadn’t done “Born to Run” yet, and of course they all returned to the stage for a couple more songs. But still, no “Born to Run” so we all clapped mightily until he came back for a couple more songs, closing with “Born to Run.” At that point, as he left the stage, the arena lights came up and people began filing out. But some of us were greedy and moved closer to the stage, filling spots vacated by the casual fans. We applauded loudly until they returned, to a fully lit venue, for a third encore. After that, still more left the building but some of us continued to scream for more, and he delivered – an amazing fourth encore, still performed with the arena fully lit. It was a remarkable thing, and I always pity those who left too soon. The rest of us had ourselves quite a party. When it was over, we looked at the clock: 11:45.

We hardly knew what to do with ourselves. Michael and I were both somewhat delirious from what we’d just experienced and didn’t want it to end. We both kept laughing giddily, though it’s hard to know why. We hovered outside the War Memorial for awhile in the impossible hope that Bruce was going to suddenly emerge from a door somewhere, but it never happened so we finally knew to call it a night.

The next morning, I left on a trip to Pittsburgh to visit my father for a few days before I began my senior year in high school. (Michael left for college shortly after that, too.) I told my dad that I needed to pick up a record so we stopped at the Listening Post so I could finally buy Darkness on the Edge of Town. The following day, after he left for work, I put the album on my father’s turntable and listened repeatedly. He called sometime around lunch and asked how I was doing. “I have just had a religious experience,” I told him

. And that’s when I knew that being a Bruce “fan” meant much more than just having all of his albums.

Bruce Springsteen Rochester New York, 1978

Limited Edition Bruce Springsteen book, The Light in Darkness.
IF you have ever considered buying this book, Now is the time.The book focuses on Darkness on the Edge of Town, Springsteen’s iconic 4th album and 1978 concert tour. Read about the live concerts from fans who were there – the Agora, Winterland, Roxy, MSG, Capitol Theatre, Boston Music Hall, The Spectrum, Shea’s in Buffalo and over seventy more, this book is a must have.
With less than 20 copies left, now is the time to order this collectible book.
We are offering savings on Shipping anywhere in the world.
Save Now- Order Here: The Light in Darkness

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Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band will play before thousands of fans in First Niagara Center, continuing a string of shows in Buffalo that dates back almost 40 years

.

Buffalo got one of its first glimpses of The Boss on May 23, 1978, in Shea’s Buffalo, as he toured in support of his album “Darkness on the Edge of Town.” One of the people in the audience that night was Buffalo Evening News Music Critic Dale Anderson. His review ran in the next day’s paper. It is reprinted here in its entirety.

(An earlier version of this post incorrectly called in Springsteen’s first stop in Buffalo. It was not.)

Springsteen’s Born to Run, And He’s Off to Good Start

Bruce Springsteen and his E Street Band revved up their engines in a sold-out Shea’s Buffalo Tuesday night for the start of a four-month U.S. tour.
When they finished the first lap three hours and three encores later, it was clear that this powerhouse had everything it needed to go 80 dates in 70 cities. And then some.

Running on a mixture of old favorites and songs off his soon-to-be-released fourth album, “Darkness on the Edge of Town,” Springsteen overcame a badly calibrated sound system and roared into a finale that almost refused to end.

The first encore was a tinkly new number, “The Promise,” which backed into that hit-the-highways anthem, “Born to Run.” The second encore was a glorious “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out,” which raised virtually everyone to their feet.

When the house lights came up, the cheering, clapping crowd ignored them. The noise continued until the lights dimmed again several minutes later and the band bounced back for one more – the Philip Upchurch raver from 1961, “You Can’t Sit Down.”

The evening that didn’t want to quit started off with Springsteen screaming right up to the redline on a new song, “Badlands.” He went to the top of his lungs again in the next number, howled a wordless cry over a steady beat, then broke into a frenzy of “For You.”

The pace couldn’t go on forever. Or could it? The insistent “Thunder Road” was next.

The 1978 Bruce Springsteen review by Dale Anderson in The Buffalo Evening News.

Springsteen darted about the stage as energetically as he sang, doing embraced duets with guitarist Miami Steve Van Zandt, ranging onto the raised orchestra pit with saxophonist Clarence Clemons and venturing up an aisle during “Spirit in the Night.” He nearly got mobbed.

The ensemble dressed the way they played – sharp. Springsteen wore a three-piece black suit, shirt open under the vest. Clemons’ suit was white, set off by a shirt of El Dorado green. Even drummer Max Weinberg wore a vest for the first half of the evening.

The sound, however, was far from impeccable. Technicians scampered out with monitor speakers for Springsteen early in the show. Needles of feedback haunted him until intermission. Meanwhile, the instruments were muddy in midrange and at first were hideously distorted.

Four unfamiliar new songs slackened the mood prior to intermission. Springsteen, having built his reputation on streaming, street-wise poetry over ’60s rhythms and phrasing, builds it into workingman’s dreams in his fresh material, numbers with titles like “Racing in the Streets” and “Promised Land.”

Part two opened by catching the youngish audience off guard with a couple oldies they didn’t recognize — a vintage saxophone rock instrumental and Elvis Presley’s “Fire.” Springsteen has a thing about Presley.

The second half was laced with extended instrumentals, Springsteen proving his worth on guitar before finally clearing the decks with the beloved “Backstreets” and “Rosalita.”

At one point, a hand-painted Exxon sign was unfurled from the front of the balcony. Springsteen was pleasantly taken aback, but the song it referred to — “Jungleland” — was not in the opening night scheme.

Despite periodic shortcomings in audio quality and pacing, this first outing found the Asbury, N.J., heroes with horsepower to spare. All they need is a little fine tuning. By the time they get to Boston for Memorial Day, they ought to be unbeatable.

Limited Edition Bruce Springsteen book, The Light in Darkness.
IF you have ever considered buying this book, Now is the time.
The book focuses on Darkness on the Edge of Town, Springsteen’s iconic 4th album and 1978 concert tour. Read about the live concerts from fans who were there – the Agora, Winterland, Roxy, MSG, Capitol Theatre, Boston Music Hall, The Spectrum, Shea’s in Buffalo and over seventy more, this book is a must have.
With less than 20 copies left, now is the time to order this collectible book.
We are offering savings on Shipping anywhere in the world.
Save Now- Order Here: The Light in Darkness

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Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

I started listening to Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band as they became more popular in the early 1970′s. At that time I was still living in my parent’s home in suburban Atlanta, Georgia. My best friend was a musician and had a few bands and probably got me listening. At the time we were both students at Georgia State University in downtown Atlanta and had both volunteered to be DJs on the college radio station, WRAS. This was back in the day when DJs actually could greatly influence their audience with the music they played. Sadly we now have most of our music stations owned by big corporations with programing decided elsewhere. I remember the station’s studio, it was in the basement of the building where the student center was, a place for students to hang out and I think there were some administration offices on the upper floors. My friend Ed and I both got horrible graveyard shifts to start with since we were the new guys. We had to both take some kind of FCC test and were given some guidelines for what not to play such as The Rolling Stones “Star Star” because of all the F-words. Other then that we were pretty much allowed to play whatever we wanted. But being in the “radio business” as we were, we got to listen to a lot of new releases. I remember several times sitting around in one of the small recording studios they had for the occasional interview or live studio performance and queuing up different new albums. I remember everyone being excited when we got Born to Run. Most of the other DJs liked it very much. There was one guy though I remember didn’t think much of it. He was an older guy who had the afternoon drive time shift and was into the Carpenters, John Denver and bands like Chicago and Three Dog Night. He didn’t think this new band was going anywhere!

I first saw Bruce and the band at Alex Cooley’s Electric Ballroom in August of 1975. My best friend, Ed and I had gone to Europe as a senior graduation trip; we both graduated in 1974 and had saved up for this trip. We had been in London and Paris and seen so many concerts, Elton John, Patti Smith, The Rolling Stones and some other groups. We got back home to Atlanta in late July and got tickets for Bruce’s Atlanta show, I think we only went to one show out of the few nights he played. I imagine we paid $10 or so for each ticket, back then tickets were so cheap. Unfortunately I didn’t have a camera at that time, mine had been stolen and I was saving up for a new one before heading out to California the next year to go to photography school in Santa Barbara. To be honest, so much time has passed I don’t remember much other then it was near the Fox Theater which was considered at that time to be in a bad section of Peachtree Street in Atlanta. Our parents were worried every time we went to THAT section of town. About all I remember was it was an energetic show that got us introduced to Bruce and the band and the style of performance that we would all come to know and love as the years went on.

August 1975 Atlanta, GA, Bruce’s intro to “She’s the One”
“Here’s something that’ll be on the new album that should be out in a few weeks…it’s called “She’s the One”…”

I left Atlanta in the summer of 1976 for Santa Barbara and I saw Bruce and the band 4 times while on the west coast. I had only been there a few months when they played the Santa Barbara Bowl which was an outdoor amphitheater on a smaller scale then the Hollywood Bowl. I didn’t get a ticket but I remember some friends and I were able to find a spot on a street a few blocks above the Bowl and see part of the show from there, Santa Barbara is very hilly as you get away from the coast and a lot of people would just find places to sit outside the theater property and listen or get a partially obscured view of whatever was playing there. One thing that I do remember was Bruce had to cut the encores short as the Santa Barbara Police were summoned on a noise complaint and I remember him laughing about it on stage, apologizing that they would only do one more song to finish the show that night!

The itinerary I looked at for Bruce’s 1978 concerts with the E Street Band show them making 3 different swings through California during that year for the Darkness on the Edge of Town Tour. They played San Jose, Berkeley, Inglewood and the Roxy in West Hollywood. I am pretty sure I saw him at one of these shows, the Roxy still seems to ring a bell in my memory cells but I really can’t say for sure. I saw a fair number of shows there over my years on the West Coast; I remember seeing Leon Russell and some other groups there. I definitely remember seeing Bruce and the band both nights they played the Winterland in San Francisco in December 1978, just before Christmas.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

My friend, Ed was attending school in San Francisco and I had just finished my semester at school in Santa Barbara. I remember driving up to stay at his apartment and we had tickets for both shows, December 15th and 16th.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

We both planned to fly back to Atlanta the day or so after the concerts for our Christmas breaks as our parents still had homes there, Ed and I had been friends since 8th grade and attended the same high school. I arrived early to get in line ( as we were in the general admission floor area with no seating as I recall and we wanted to get as close to the stage as possible. San Francisco in December is a damp and dreary place when the fog and wintertime rain comes in from the Pacific Ocean. It was drizzling and cold as the line began moving. Winterland had a huge sign that you could see from a few blocks away, it was red with big white letters going down from the top that said WINTERLAND and then it had the typical sign where they just change out the letters to say who is playing.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

As I recall it was at Post and Seiner streets and was not very far from The Fillmore and the area known as Japan Town and the Western District. About 15 blocks to the east is Union Square with all the nice hotels and stores, and the area known as the Tenderloin was also to the southeast, that was one bad neighborhood back then.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

I took a lot of pictures both nights at those shows and I recall the energy that Bruce was well known for being evident. (We always wondered how could he put out so much with all his running around the stage and climbing up on the stacks of speakers and jumping back off down to the stage. On the first night we were able to get pretty close to the stage and really enjoyed the show. On both nights I can remember as Bruce and the band went into their mutli-song encore that the crowd began stomping to the music and the entire floor, which was an old hardwood floor, began to shake with the rhythm. I was a bit concerned as to whether the old building would collapse and we would all end up in a pile in the basement. 

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

After both shows there was just a lingering feeling of energy for all of us as we made our way out into the foggy damp San Francisco night. Our ears were still ringing from the sounds and being so close to the stage and there were lingering memories of each song. As we walked back to where ever we had parked the car I can remember each of us occasionally bursting out with a line from Thunder Road or Born to Run. The next day we had to get to the airport and catch a flight home for the holiday. We both felt so exhausted from those 2 shows at Winterland.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

I had been taking concert photographs since the early 70′s. I shot David Bowie, Todd Rundgren, The Rolling Stones, Yes, Elton John, Genesis, and others. I used a Minolta SRT101, which in my opinion was a pretty darn good solid camera back then. No motor drive or anything special and my only telephoto lens was the classic Vivitar Series 1 which was a 70-210mm with macro. As I became more familiar with shooting concerts I started to buy bulk rolls of Ectachrome film. The camera shops only had 200ASA film speed for the fast stuff and I would push the hell out of it. After a concert I always had 5-10 rolls to process, sometimes if there were multiple shows happening in a month that we had tickets for I would try to save up enough because once you started mixing up the chemicals and using them their quality decreased in a short time.
When I went out to Santa Barbara a lot changed. I still had an enlarger in my apartment for B&W work, we did pretty much only B&W in our first year of school assignments. But the school did have a full color lab and I could get my work done there and later worked in the lab and processed my own film in a big Calumet dip and dunk system.

Looking back and thinking about favorite shows or sequences is hard since it was just so damn long ago. I do remember it was always a struggle to get close to the stage. Some shows had a big general admission area on the floor and you just pushed and shoved and tried to wiggle your way up to the stage. Later on a lot of bands got the idea to sell more expensive general admissions tickets for the area closest to the stage and fence it off with a barrier of some kind and station security bouncers to try to keep others out. That made it a lot harder since you probably would get booted out if caught jumping the fence but we did it a few times. I just think the things I liked most about seeing Bruce and the E Street Band perform was the energy they put out, lots of running around and interplay.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

Bruce was always telling stories as he led into songs and when he got going with the music he always hammed it up with Clarence or Steve. Depending on the venue they were performing in, Bruce began putting little sections of the stage that went out into the crowd and he would stroll out on each one which was great for different angles, that usually happened more at larger stadium type shows where they built an entire stage more then the clubs or theater type venues. And there was always lots of jumping up and down on the piano or on and off of stacks of big speakers. And one thing that he and a lot of other performers were getting into was having really good lighting for the solos and group songs, in the early days they seemed limited to just some simple stage lighting and a big spotlight somewhere out on a balcony but in the later tours they all seemed to have the huge racks of lights with fantastic colors geared to each song. That is probably why I enjoyed shooting so much color film.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, San Francisco Winterland, December 1978

Over the years I have still gone to see Bruce in concert

. After those shows in the 70′s I saw the River Tour when it came to Houston and then again for the Born In The USA tour in 1984. Sadly if I took pictures I have no idea what became of them but at that time I was married with kids so I probably couldn’t afford the best seats. I introduced my second wife to his music and took her to the Reunion Tour; it played at Houston Compaq Center which was the basketball arena. Funny but that place is now a mega-church and Compaq computers are no more. I did see him and the band one more time in Atlanta in 2008 or so, I was there helping out my elderly parents before they died. My old best friend Ed and I went, I think it was at the Philips Arena. Sadly my friend died a few months later. I still follow Bruce and the Band when they are in the news, I hope to see them again but they have made it a lot harder to take pictures other then with a cell phone which isn’t worth it.

Chris Summers
Kingwood, Texas
January 26, 2016

Limited Edition Bruce Springsteen book, The Light in Darkness.
The book focuses on Darkness on the Edge of Town, Springsteen’s iconic 4th album and 1978 concert tour. Read about the live concerts from fans who were there.
The Light in Darkness
I’d like to thank everyone who contributed to, supported and purchased the Bruce Springsteen book, The Light in Darkness. Thanks to you it’s been an incredible success and we are completely sold out.

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The Bruce Springsteen Detroit show (and the one the next night in Cleveland) were announced with less than a month before show date but

Bruce Springsteen 1978 Cobo, Detroit, Michigan

which had crossed the nation knocking rock fans back on their heels. Bruce had played small town 5-6 thousand seat hockey rinks like those in nearby Toledo, Kalamazoo and Saginaw in the previous six months but to sell out Cobo Arena nearly 15,000 seats was unprecedented. Self important Detroit rock fans had largely resisted Springsteen’s siren call (he’d played the 4,000 seat Michigan Theater in the city a few months earlier) but the cult of Bruce had finally blown past Detroit’s music intelligentsia and into the mainstream. The show was especially popular because of its timing. Everyone was home from college for the holidays and suddenly Bruce was the sensation everyone had discovered in Fall term. Several of us convened back home in Toledo in just such a fashion and determined Bruce at Cobo was a must. In those days you bought your tickets at the (long gone) JL Hudson department store chain so off we went. Tier C at Cobo was like being on the moon in its distance from the stage but that’s all that was available. When we got to the show the next night we found ourselves in the second to last row of Tier C having procured five of the last few dozen tickets sold. As the set list attests the show was a tour de force offering the warhorses as well as the unreleased stuff that already been well circulated by the bootleggers. A special treat for a couple in our group and me was the inclusion of The Fever which was regularly played on Houston radio where we’d all lived a couple years earlier.

The next night Bruce made a triumphant return to Cleveland selling out the similarly sized Richfield Coliseum on New Years Eve. Detroit and Cleveland were close in proximity, size and blue collar mindset but very different rock and roll “capitals.” Cleveland embraced all that was new, flash and even a bit offbeat while Detroit worshiped at the altar of the heavy blues rock. To see Bruce sell out the biggest venues in both towns meant that he had finally put himself over the top. Ever after we would brag, “Oh, I saw Bruce in (insert minuscule, over-the-hill vaudeville house here) with a thousand people.”

Richard B. Kelley Grand Rapids, Michigan  Facebook

Limited Edition Bruce Springsteen book, The Light in Darkness

.
IF you have ever considered buying this book, Now is the time.
The book focuses on Darkness on the Edge of Town, Springsteen’s iconic 4th album
and 1978 concert tour. Read about the live concerts from fans who were there:
- the Agora, Winterland, Roxy, MSG, Capitol Theatre, Boston Music Hall, The Spectrum
and over seventy more, this book is a must have.
With less than 30 copies left, now is the time to order this collectible book.
We are offering savings on Shipping anywhere in the world.
Save Now- Order Here: The Light in Darkness

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Finding The Light in Darkness: A conversation with Springsteen book publisher Lawrence Kirsch

As we break the seal on 2010, I’m looking forward (as so many Springsteen fans are) to the much-discussed commemorative box set for Bruce Springsteen’s classic release, Darkness on the Edge of Town.  We don’t know at this point specifically what shows/materials will be incorporated into the bonus elements of the release, but it is allegedly going to hit the shelves this year.  If you bought the previous box set for Born to Run, I think you’ll agree with me that this new release will be something to look forward to as a Bruce fan.

My anticipation for the release of this set doubled late last year with the release of The Light in Darkness, Lawrence Kirsch’s excellent chronicle of the Darkness on the Edge of Town tour.

The Light in Darkness
Limited Edition Bruce Springsteen Book

Told from the fan’s perspective, by the fans themselves, Kirsch took the numerous fan story submissions, combined them with over 200+ classic photographs from the tour, and delivered an amazing gift to Bruce fans.  With time travel via DeLorean still unlikely, The Light in Darkness is the closest that you’ll ever come to attending a show on the Darkness tour.

After finishing the book (my review is posted here), I had some further questions and wanted take a look under the hood at the assembly process behind releasing something like The Light in Darkness, one that is most certainly mammoth.  Kirsch was more than happy to answer a few questions, and I’m glad that I took the time to inquire, because he certainly had plenty to say, and I think that all music fans will enjoy reading the story of how The Light in Darkness (and Kirsch’s previous book For You) moved from a concept to the actual release.

To start off, let’s talk a little bit about your early background professionally – from what I read, you spent about 20+ years as a professional photographer with Springsteen being among the many famous names that you photographed.

I started shooting concerts as a hobby in 1972, The Rolling Stones Exile on Main Street tour was the first concert I photographed. I worked professionally from 1977 (first gig was Elvis Costello for CBS records) until 1989. Since 1972 I have photographed over 300 major rock acts including David Bowie, Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton, Queen, AC/DC, Pink Floyd, The Ramones, U2, Rush and Elton John.

Based in Montreal, I traveled throughout Canada and the US for photo sessions commissioned by WEA, CBS, Capitol, MCA, RCA and other major record labels. My photographs have appeared in more than 100 magazines, as well as CDs, DVDs, box sets, (including 3 photos in the Springsteen Ties that Bind, River box set) record label web sites, books, posters, concert programs, calendars, wine labels (AC/DC) gallery showings, and on record sleeves.

“I was in the right place at the right time. People ask me how did you choose to be a rock & roll photographer? Well, I never did, really. It chose me. I was attending music concerts since 1970 and wanted to linger on long after the concert was over. So I picked up a camera and starting shooting photographs for friends and myself. In university I met a friend who had connections to CBS Records. She got me an interview and ultimately my first professional gig in 1977.” You can view some of my work here.

For You Stories and Photographs
by Bruce Springsteen’s Legendary Fans.
Limited Edition Bruce Springsteen Book, Sold Out

I just got my hands on For You, your first Springsteen book from a couple of years ago, and it’s amazing. Had you done any other books prior to For You?

I had contributed photographs to quite a few books focusing on different music artists, and came up with the concept for a book on Bruce Springsteen published in England called Bruce Springsteen: Blinded by the Light, but had never worked on a book of my own.

Where did you come up with the idea to do a book about Springsteen, and what kind of legwork was involved in making it happen, legally?

Having attended so many Springsteen concerts since 1975 I kept meeting fans that all had this incredible sense of shared community. Whether I met them in person at concerts, through written correspondence or later via emails, we all had the same thing in common, this undeniable love and appreciation of Bruce Springsteen’s music. What I thought was missing was a touchstone that fans could contribute to and ultimately turn to understand that they were not alone in this passion for this great songwriter and human being.
From a legal perspective I asked everyone that submitted a story to sign a document stating that the text they sent was there own, and that we could use it in the book and for publicity. I also asked all the photographers to sign a photo release form stating the images belonged to them and that they were granting us permission to reproduce them in the Springsteen book For You, Original Stories and Photographs by Bruce Springsteen’s Legendary Fans. Another legal aspect that I was very conscious of was that many fans quoted Bruce’s lyrics in their story submissions and I was not 100% clear on the legality of that. To make certain that we did not break any legal rules I had my editor remove all lyric quotations from the final selected stories. It certainly took away some of the flavour and nuance of the some stories, but I could not take the chance.

From the 1978 Darkness on the Edge of Town tour:
The Palladium, New York, NY ©Anthony Pecora

Your two books are also self-published, assembled with a small team of editors and layout professionals. What are the pros and cons to this approach?

Well, I guess the first and most important benefit to self-publishing is that you have total control; you are the final decision maker. However, I did surround myself with artistic and passionate professionals who helped me produce excellent quality work. I could not have done these two books without the unbelievable generosity of the Springsteen fan community at large. They provided me with fantastic material to work with, original stories, photographs and scans of memorabilia came pouring in, all contributors were interested in making the tribute volumes as great as they could be.
As I found out, even with many of the contributions being offered gratis, self-publishing is a very expensive proposition. Design, editing, scanning and printing are costly tasks that need to be addressed. Especially for the first book For You, which was a hard cover book. But possibly the most difficult and tedious task of the whole experience is the actual distribution of the book. Anyone can print a book, but then you have to sell it and get it into the hands of your buyers.
This is no easy task and I have dealt with at least 4 different methods of shipping both books. Being situated in Canada, my options are considerably less and more expensive then shipping out of the US (yes, this is one of the options I tried) and the time delay is longer. Fans are for the most part forgiving, and I understand their impatience, after all they paid good money for a product they do not take delivery of sometimes up to 9 weeks. But after the book leaves my office the delivery is out of my control, even if I have a tracking number.

What sort of learning experience did you have based on any mistakes that you might have made during the assembly and promotion of For You?

I have to say that the overall learning experience was phenomenal on both books. As I previously mentioned the outpouring of responses from fans was overwhelming.
For For You, I asked for story contributions of no longer than 300 words, on The Light in Darkness I increased that to 400 words, and permitted contributors to include 3-4 lines of lyrics from any one song. I had a clearer more focused idea of the chronological order of the way we were going to sequence the material in the second book.

Both books are unique – in that, the story is told completely from the fan’s perspective – written by the fans, which is a ballsy move. And yet with Springsteen, I’d argue that there’s nobody better to tell the story.

Agreed. The cliché I read many times is “For the fans, by the fans”. But is there a more qualified fan base to write about their hero? Since the very beginning, Bruce’s personal interaction with his fans is legendary, both during his concerts and his down time, when he walks the streets as a normal citizen of where ever he may be.

From the 1978 Darkness on the Edge of Town tour:
The Palladium, New York, NY ©Mark Wyville

Unlike For You, which focuses on Springsteen’s entire career of touring, your new book The Light in Darkness focuses exclusively on the Darkness on the Edge of Town tour. Why Darkness?

The songs on Darkness spoke to me personally. Yes, the mood is darker than previous albums, but not entirely without hope. Darkness on the Edge of Town is pure, energetic rock and roll and one of the best works that Springsteen would create.

Live in concert, The Music, The Music, The Music.

From the 1978 Darkness on the Edge of Town tour:
Philadelphia Spectrum, Philadelphia PA ©Peter Howes

The Darkness tour was distinguished for the now-legendary two-plus hour sound checks, where Springsteen himself would tour the arena while the E Street Band played in order to judge the sound. Much of this practice was no doubt a vestige of his initial reluctance to play hockey arena-sized venues in light of his audience intimacy and sound concerns, but in truth, the sound on that tour was great – it had to be, as the spoken song intros and stories played a major role in that tour’s message. You had to be able to understand what was being said. And there was a lot spoken, in setting up songs and connecting with the audience. Bruce was thankful to be back where he belonged, on stage, and thankful that his loyal audience was there-and he let us know it.

The best way to describe what you felt when the band walked out onto the boards and ripped into the opening number (whether it was ‘Good Rockin’ Tonight’, ‘Summertime Blues’, ‘High School Confidential’, or ‘Badlands’) is to harken back to the old Maxell tape ads, where the guy puts a Maxell tape into his stereo and the sound that comes out of the speakers blows his hair and his scarf back, and sends his drink skidding across the table through the sheer force and power of its volume and energy. Much has been written and said over the years about the sense of desperation and emotion driving Springsteen on that tour – it’s all true, and then some. Trying to explain it can sometimes seem as daunting a prospect as the challenge put forth by John Sebastian in the Lovin’ Spoonful’s “Do You Believe in Magic?” in that “It’s like trying to tell a stranger about rock and roll.” Bruce and the E Street Band, compared to now, played fast. And they played loud. Not “The Who loud”, but loud enough to trash your ears for a day after the show, regardless of your rock show-going experience. The opening set was heavy on Darknessalbum material, and the songs were augmented, enhanced, and accessorized in a way that doesn’t happen these days. The organ/piano intro to the title track, the extended harmonica/piano intro to ‘Promised Land’, the now-legendary piano/guitar intro to ‘Prove It All Night’, the extended piano coda to ‘Racing in the Street’, the ‘Not Fade Away’/'Mona’/'Gloria’ lead-in to ‘She’s the One’, along with the instrumental break in the middle of it – these flourishes made the songs even more special, and these types of reworking’s are not seen much anymore. By the time ‘Jungleland’ closed the first set, some first-timers in the crowd thought the show was over, such was the quality and quantity of what was delivered in just the opening set!

From the 1978 Darkness on the Edge of Town tour:
Providence Civic Center, Providence RI ©Peter Howes

From the 1978 Darkness on the Edge of Town tour: Fox Theater poster, Atlanta, GA
Live FM broadcast simulcast by about twenty radio stations throughout the south-eastern United States.

The Darkness tour also marked the last time many would get to see The Boss in small concert halls, as Bruce’s exploding popularity forced him to trade up to hockey arenas during several stops on the tour. Stadiums would soon follow. Today, many fans lucky enough to have attended the Darkness tour are glad they did whatever it took to land a ticket, a memory they can still cherish as they now watch Bruce from the nosebleeds. As many fans have noted, a Springsteen concert is something akin to a big tent revival meeting: the energy, the enthusiasm, and most importantly, the healing.

Many performers can entertain a crowd, and put on a great show. But at a Bruce show, he doesn’t just entertain, he brings the audience together. Those around you aren’t just strangers in the seats, they become family, if only for a few hours.

On the way out the concert hall, theater or arena, one was left with an uncanny mix of exhaustion and exhilaration that comes at the end of a Springsteen concert, a feeling that comes because the marathon shows both drained you entirely of energy, while somehow also replenishing with a new strength. In both books that I worked on, fans struggled to describe what this feels like, and how the feeling differs from all the other rock concerts they’ve been too. I don’t pretend to have an explanation. But at best, what I can offer is that through some strange magic, Bruce, in his pure enthusiasm for what he does, and his unpretentious ability to connect with a crowd, he was able to elevate that mass of people from a mere rock and roll crowd into a rock and roll community.

As fan Lou Carlozo wrote:

“But Bruce – a bus driver’s son wielding all the determination of a blue-collar man sweating to the last paycheck dime – shared his best with his fans again and again and again. Is it any wonder, then, that magic permeates every Bruce Springsteen concert and touches the people who pack his shows to capacity? Yes, Bruce was one of us: The only real difference was that he wrote and sang amazing songs, though he thrived whenever we joined him and sang along. He fed us, we fed him back. The circle was joined. And it remains unbroken.

From the 1978 Darkness on the Edge of Town tour:
Augusta Civic Center, Augusta ME ©Lawrence Kirsch

As a fan, you had the dream ticket being in attendance for the opening night of the Darkness tour.

Shea’s Buffalo Theatre, Buffalo, NY

I had first witnessed Bruce in concert in Montreal, December 1975 on the Born to Run Tour. I saw it with my cousin from New York. After that, Bruce disappeared, at least for me, with no new album and no concert dates in my area for three years. So when I received a call from the same cousin now living in Buffalo to attend Bruce’s premiere show to showcase his new album, I was psyched.
I was there when Bruce broke out of creative jail. The night Bruce was able to perform new songs how and when he wanted to. What I remember most was the raw emotion that Bruce presented on stage. I would even say he was a bit nervous and tentative. But by the time he launched into “Something in the Night” and screamed so his body shook, we knew he was going to take no prisoners, even if it killed him, and us. I had been anticipating this show for close the three years. The audience and atmosphere were electric, we had no idea what to expect, as the new album Darkness on The Edge of Town had not been released yet. I remember the thick smell of marijuana when I walked into the grand old Shea theater, and the humid heat of the air. I remember superfan Obie and photographer/girlfriend Lynn Goldsmith hanging out in the first row waiting with anticipation like the rest of us for the lights to go down.
And then it started.

How many shows did you end up seeing on the Darkness tour?

I saw nine shows on the tour, including the opening show in Buffalo and the last two in Cleveland. I have photos I took from six of the shows reproduced in The Light in Darkness.

How did you first come across Springsteen’s music, and what is that moment that you can point to that officially made you a fan?

I discovered Bruce’s first two albums in 1974 by hearing them on the radio. I liked the albums, can’t say I loved them.
The defining moment for me was December 19, 1975 when I saw Bruce in an 800 seat theatre in Montreal.

What do you remember about your first Springsteen show?

I remember that the night was freezing and that Bruce commented on the temperature during the show, more than once. He wore his customary wool hat on stage and unbelievably he would fling it at his mike stand from various locations on the stage and nail it on the stand!
I remember having tickets in the balcony and feeling that Bruce was playing to us all night. Oh yeah, and I remember the music. I remember Bruce coming on stage in the dark to start the show, one blue spotlight on Roy Bittan while he played the introduction to Thunder Road. I had seen and photographed many shows before then, but nothing as dramatic as that. His interaction with the audience, the stories, and the musicianship all were new experiences for me.

It’s often hard for a non-Springsteen fan to understand the typical Springsteen fanaticism – How many Springsteen gigs have you been to over the years, and what is it that keeps you coming back for more?

I don’t really feel compelled to try to convince anyone to see a Bruce Springsteen concert. Many music fans in my hometown do not appreciate him, and I can understand that. I have seen close to ninety shows, which amazes me to this day. But whenever I think that this is a large number, I think about fans that have season tickets to baseball, basketball or hockey teams-how many games do they see a year, year after year? It is all about the passion, the passion of the music and sharing it with 10,000, 20,000 or 50,000 like-minded fans.

From the 1978 Darkness on the Edge of Town tour: Cleveland Coliseum, Cleveland OH
©Anastasia Pantsios

Have you gotten any reaction from the Springsteen camp about the books?

When I launched the first book, For You, I had met Bruce’s security person in Boston in November of 2007 and had given him a book to show to Bruce. It was returned to me about a month later from Denmark, signed.

Then Bruce announced a concert in my home city of Montreal. From the time I got the call around 6.20 Sunday night, March 2, until 23 seconds before Bruce took the stage, I was backstage. Along with Humphrey Kadaner president of HMV Canada, I was the personal guest of Bruce’s co-managers in their Bell Center suite. There we were offered wine and cheese in a very relaxing atmosphere. Prior to this I had to go through 2 security checks and have 2 wrist bands applied, a backstage pass and given a ticket to the “pit” area. I chatted to Bruce’s managers for close to 90 minutes and during that time was given a handwritten set list for the Montreal show…

And then it happened, I met Bruce. We chatted; I presented him a copy of the book and told him it was on behalf of his fans worldwide who appreciate his great music and the enjoyment he has brought to us over all these years. He signed a copy of the book for me. While all of this was going on Miami Steve and one or 2 other E-Streeters were rehearsing the harmonies on “Because the Night” a capella not 10 feet away. Bruce posed for photos with me, and then I walked with him as he joined the other members of the E-Street band literally 23 seconds before he took the stage. Then I took my spot in the pit and had the time of my life.

Like the first book, The Light in Darkness also is a limited pressing of 2400 copies – What’s the next project on tap for you after this one is done?

Well, I am contemplating several ideas for books right now.

Subjects include The Rolling Stones, David Bowie and a book on meal planning for vegetarians. Also, a short story written by a Springsteen fan that grew up in Bruce’s neighbourhood and came in contact with several of the same people he did on a daily basis. He spent some time with Bruce; the time period covers the early 1970’s to around 1976/1977.
Of course if this becomes a reality it will have some classic never seen before photos. I know if fans had their way they would like to see a book on The River. I don’t think that is in the cards for me, but never say never.

Thanks to Lawrence for a great interview!
The Light in Darkness was a limited edition printing of only 2400 copies, and is now sold out. Thanks to the Springsteen fan community for all your support, without you the book could never have seen the light of day. all the best,
Lawrence Kirsch
The Light in Darkness

Matt Wardlaw
Matt grew up in the 80’s in Odessa, Texas – home of prairie dogs, Permian Panthers football (as covered in the movie Friday Night Lights,) oil wells, and not much else. The remainder of my time growing up was spent in the mountains of New Mexico which led to my family moving to the Chicago area suburb of Joliet, and finally in 1989 we made our final move to Cleveland, OH. An early life spent living in small towns and cold weather left me plenty of time for listening to as much music as I could get my hands on.

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