A sad day on E Street

by Jay Lustig
Newark Star-Ledger Staff
Friday April 18, 2008, 4:24 PM



The E Street Band (1980)

Danny Federici, the E Street Band keyboardist who died on Thursday, can never be replaced.

One musician can never duplicate another's playing exactly, of course, but that's just part of it. Federici, who died of cancer, at the age of 58, added something intangible to the band by his mere presence.

Core members of the E Street Band band came together in small Jersey Shore clubs, struggled to attain stardom together, played arenas and stadiums throughout the world and now, in middle age, are still doing it. And Federici, the first E Streeter to die, played with Bruce Springsteen the longest.

"I loved him very much ... we grew up together," said Springsteen Thursday, in a message posted on his Web site.

In 1969, the Flemington-born Federici and drummer Vini Lopez recruited the longhaired hotshot guitarist from Freehold to play with them, in a band called Child. Child morphed into Steel Mill, then Dr. Zoom and the Sonic Boom, then the Bruce Springsteen Band, and, finally, the E Street Band. Federici played in them all, and stayed in the E Street Band until his disease forced him to take a leave of absence in November (though he did join the band one more time, for a surprise eight-song appearance at an Indianapolis concert, in March).

Federici and Springsteen's shared history included legendary all-night jam sessions at the Asbury Park club, the Upstage, and the kind of communal living arrangements that young musicians of limited means often resort to. At one point, Federici lived with Springsteen and Springsteen's family in Freehold. At another, Federici, Springsteen and others shared a house in Bradley Beach.

"We all shared the rent," Federici told Backstreets magazine in 1990. "It was one for all and all for one. It was a collection of togetherness. It was a good time."

Part of the band's appeal has always been rooted in their personal camaraderie, and the kind of deep musical communication that only comes when musicians have logged countless shows together. That shared history made Springsteen's decision to reunite the band, in 1999, a big deal. And it makes fans fear that every tour will be their last.



The E Street Band will continue without Federici. Charles Giordano, who has been substituting for Federici since November, has proven to be quite capable. But it's not exactly the same.

"I haven't felt this bad since I saw Mickey Mantle's funeral, and I knew part of my youth was being buried with him, forever gone," said Joel Ram, a singer-songwriter from Cedar Grove, and a longtime E Street fan. "It just hits you hard."

The E Street Band has always seemed like a bunch of regular guys, not rock-star prima donnas. And no one seemed more human than Federici. His place on the stage was usually far away from the center spotlight. His keyboard riffs added textures behind the charging guitars and pounding drums, but rarely dominated an arrangement.

He released two solo albums of jazz-pop instrumentals, but never really established himself as a solo artist. And he had a drinking problem, spending two stints in rehab before quitting in 1983. "During my drinking binges over the years I must have quit the band three or four times," he told Backstreets. "I was always talked back into it, which I'm grateful for."

Several key members of the Asbury Park rock scene have died over the last few years. Bill Chinnock, who Federici and Lopez played with before they met Springsteen, died last year, as did Springsteen's longtime assistant and confidante, Terry Magovern. The theme of mortality winds through some of Springsteen's best post-reunion songs, like "You're Missing," and "Matamoros Banks," and "Devil's Arcade." Springsteen's tribute to Magovern, "Terry's Song," closes his most recent album, "Magic."

Springsteen and the E Street Band postponed two shows after Federici's death, but will resume their tour Monday night in Tampa. Springsteen will surely add some kind of tribute to the show.

Maybe he'll sing "Blood Brothers," his 1995 meditation on the eternal ties that bind the members of the E Street Band together.

"The stars are burnin' bright like some mystery uncovered/I'll keep movin' through the dark with you in my heart/My blood brother," he pledges in the song.

He might not have been thinking about death when he wrote it. But it will be hard to think about anything else, now.

Federici's family is requesting that, in lieu of flowers, donations be made to the Danny Federici Melanoma fund.

Jay Lustig may be reached at jlustig@starledger.com or (973) 392-5850.