Bruce Springsteen is in the news today for
saying “Hello Ohio!” in…Michigan on Friday, but geez people, how many of us are way under 60 and way less
talented, energetic, or able to memorize 27 songs a night,
let alone write or perform them?
Sure, I had told my neighbors, I’ll take care of your three cats for two weeks. That’s what pet-loving neighbors do for each other in
Is the Boss a hottie?
I grew up on Bruce. He sang the anthems that described my teens and twenties, the pride we took in finding beauty and meaning where
everyone else saw overcrowding and pollution.
I discovered him in high school, when I was just starting
to understand that cool music was out there, when I heard a guy a year older
talking about Clarence Clemons.
This was the music that captured the 80s for me, but also
whatever this decade is called. Only Bruce has the power to make me feel what
borders on nostalgia for those strange, mournful, and oddly-sunny days right
after September 11.
Only Bruce could have written the two songs--“Born to Run”
and “
We bring praise for Bruce, for his productivity, for the way
he describes our lives. We admire the way he lauds the common man, the way he’s
probably a nice guy (and we can’t believe any allegations
to the contrary). One of us even carries a sign that says “Bruce is My
Religion.”
Then it hits me, when the Jumbotron displays a close-up
of all the hands raised in praise.
Truly, the only black guy I can see
is The Big Man
himself, playing the sax. All those arms
were white, a a sea of Crayola “flesh” color, or at least that’s what it was
called when I was a kid, before we started to know the error of that name, the
implication that other colors didn’t count.
Am I that white that my all-time favorite rock star has
no appeal for black Jerseyans? Is this music, which embodies both my youth and my
recent years, somehow excluding or repelling people of color? What’s wrong with
me for loving something that doesn’t seem to be loved universally?
I asked a friend of mine who is black, apologizing first for asking someone “what black people think.” (“Ask them yourself,” my college roommate rightly told me once.) My friend said she noticed the same thing at Bono and U2 concerts, maybe concerts are too expensive, who knows? Maybe concerts by black artists have audiences that are less melanin-deprived.
Y'know, Mr. Bruce himself should read this -- for its poetry, pathos, elegance, honesty -- and then he should ponder the questions you ask at the end. I'd be *very* curious to know his reaction to your post.
Posted by: Robin | November 15, 2009 at 06:21 PM
Fabulous work, Tina. There is a song in this. No strike that, more than a few songs. You done did Bruce proud...
Posted by: Lou Carlozo | November 16, 2009 at 08:52 AM
My favorite line: "The rat traps, filled with soul crusaders..." This transcends race.
Posted by: mitch s. | November 16, 2009 at 11:03 AM
I've read Tina Kelley's beautiful poetry and insightful social analysis in The New York Times... I'm not surprised in the least that she would connect with the power of The Boss beyond just state pride or teenage nostalgia, and notice the lack of faces of color in his audience. I love this blog posting, because it gives us all so much to think about.
Bruce Springsteen is certainly not a racist, but there may be something about his work that resonates specifically with the white working class. And while Michael Jackson had fans that were both black and white (and Hispanic, south american, Asian, east Asian, middle eastern, and on and on and on), when he died, Al Sharpton correctly declared that he was "our boy, we gave him to you." And when he died, his fans didn't flock to Madison Square Garden, it was the Apollo.
Cher and Madonna represent strong women, but most social commentators and the artists themselves would probably say that their most ardent and loyal audience is the gay community.
But back to Bruce, Ms. Kelley puts it best when she herself notes that in regard to New Jersey, "the pride we took in finding beauty and meaning where everyone else saw overcrowding and pollution," is perhaps the artist's most singular contribution.
It is a talent that binds every great artist with those who come to love them - they give us life, they give us hope, they bring us together.
Thank you again for giving us so much to think about... And thanks for defending Bruce! Every band that tours talks about how disorienting it can be, and anyone who watches him perform live -anywhere and anytime- has to admit that he is doing anything but phone it in. He gives his heart, God bless him. Give the guy a break.
Posted by: Livia | November 16, 2009 at 04:26 PM
There is a lot to think about here. I was in high school for the dawn of rock'n'roll and Elvis. That led me to the blues, and the blues led me to jazz. One of the few concerts I have attended was one of Bruce's in the Tacoma Dome in Tacoma, Washington, in the mid-80's.
Music has been a positive force for change in the surrounding society throughout my life. And different groups have had different music and were changing in different ways. A question I would now ask is, "Has music diverted energy that would fuel political change into change in social 'styles'"?
But then the mind-altering substance and sexual revolutions of the 60's and 70's were huge. And maybe the economic successes of the middle class during that period didn't call for political change.
And maybe music was speaking to different groups according to where they were in their social "styles"?
And there the difference in ethnic groups is obvious ... and further divided into subgroups ... and it seems each of us finds a music for our soul. Observing who follows which Pied Piper should tell us something about ourselves ... whomever we are.
Posted by: HG Lindquist | November 18, 2009 at 03:00 PM