http://www.eyeweekly.com/daily/?p=1063
October 16th, 2007
Paul Isaacs
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Toronto Eye Weekly
“Bruce, take me now!” yelled a portly fortysomething guy in lumberjack shirt a few metres away from me, in the moments before “Born To Run.” Or maybe I’m lying — perhaps it was me who yelled it. As a self-confessed Bruce Springsteen obsessive, it’s hard for me to write objectively about a Springsteen/E Street Band live show. But in a year that’s already brought us lifetime-top-ten performances from Daft Punk and Prince, last night’s set at the Air Canada Centre was still something special. Maybe I’m just a lame Springsteen nerd — OK, I’m definitely a lame Springsteen nerd — but with a backup band as crack as E Street, a head-spinningly massive back catalogue of classics, and one of the most charismatic front men in show business, how could it fail to be?
There might have been no surprises at the ACC like Arcade Fire’s guest appearance in Ottawa on Sunday, but on the other hand, thank Christ for that. (What would you rather hear at a Springsteen concert: “Keep the Car Running” or “Incident on 57th Street“? Right.) Instead we got a straight set of favourites (”Candy’s Room”), obscurities (”Thundercrack“) and some decent cuts from Magic. New single “Radio Nowhere,” “Night” and “Lonesome Day” made for a passable opening trio, but the band really started kicking about half an hour in, with a bluesy take on Nebraska’s “Reason to Believe,” outrageously vamped-up to resemble AC/DC’s “Whole Lotta Rosie.”
Watching Bruce camp it up royally with a distorted microphone, sounding like nothing less than Jon Spencer’s fucked-up uncle, was a prime example of the classic Springsteen goof-off. What tends to get lost in the reports on Springsteen’s alleged influence on modern hipster bands is just what a fun performer he is. Age may have forced Bruce to cut down on the throat-killing between-song preacher patter, and jumping on the piano is now pretty much out of the question, but there’s still a simple joyousness to his live shows that none of his imitators (save perhaps The Hold Steady) have come even close to reproducing. The earnest troubadour aspect of The Boss’s persona — the aspect currently being imitated to death by Arcade Fire, The Killers, The National et al — is just one part of his act. But for every austere “Nebraska” there’s got be a rave-up like “Sherry Darling,” and for every plodding “Devils and Dust” there’s a glitzy pop bauble like “I’m Going Down.” (I don’t know about you, but I’d like Win Butler a whole lot more if he occasionally tried back-flipping on a trampoline.)
And then there’s the band. If Magic finds the E Street Band on unusually restrained form – with producer Brendan O’ Brien cutting back on Roy Bittan’s trademark high-end piano trills – then last night saw them back at their rollicking best, with Miami Steve and Springsteen’s homoerotic shared-microphone interplay kitsched-up to the max, and the wondrous enigma that is Clarence “Big Man” Clemons busting out one classic sax solo after another (although his playing did at one point remind of something else entirely.) Capping off the set with a bruising “Badlands” and an idiotically transcendent take on “The Rising,” Springsteen returned to encore with “Dancing in the Dark” and “Born to Run,” both performed with the house lights up on full — ideal for watching 20,000 audience members simultaneously go apeshit while singing to “strap your hands across my engines.”
If I were honest, I’d say that some of the Magic cuts could use a bit more oomph: “Livin’ in the Future” (already an obvious fan favourite) still needs a little practice, and “Long Walk Home” a little more bite. “Girls In Their Summer Clothes,” on the other hand, sounded a lot more lively, with a much more committed vocal than on the staid recorded version. Still, it would be churlish to complain: The Boss is still The Boss, righteous, tacky and righteously tacky as ever.
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