Watching Bruce Springsteen’s London Calling: Live in Hyde Park is a hell of an experience. It makes me feel as alive as a weightlifter on cocaine, as humbled as Stephen Harper when he hangs out with Barack Obama, and as baffled as a Tim Hortons (note: that is not a grammatical error) when you hand him/her twenty-two bucks for a twelve dollar order.
Why these emotions?
It could be that I am a violent schizophrenic with multiple personalities and my average day is a roller coaster of emotions.
I could be coming down off a four day heroin bender and the withdrawal is making me a sweaty wreck.
I could be pregnant.
Barring any of these (admittedly ridiculous) possibilities, I’ll try to explain myself.
Why do I feel so alive?
Watching The Boss perform, even in a third-party fashion as I am right now, one can’t help but feel a bit of a rush. As I write this, I feel like I just robbed a liquor store with a Sharpie and totally got away with it.
The energy that Springsteen exudes is rare among so many performers that it feels like something entirely new. When Bruce, after climbing up and down a flight of steps to high five the crowd, yells, “Somebody get me an elevator! I’m fuckin’ sixty!” with a Cheshire grin, it’s impossible not to feel the same high he is obviously experiencing.
There is a joy he takes from performing, one that is returned tenfold by anyone viewing the spectacle.
Watching someone who has reached retirement age rock a three hour rock ‘n’ roll show is like finding a polite clerk at a movie theatre – rare, and therefore exhilarating.
Why am I so humbled?
It humbles me knowing that I am not as cool at 25 as The Boss is at 60. I try, but goddamn. I can’t work a crowd/rip a solo/look awesome in a sweat-soaked shirt like Springsteen. I’m pretty certain he is not human, but a robot from some alien planet (see: New Jersey, where all the good rock seems to be coming from) sent to teach us how to rock. I bet at 60, if I try really hard, I could maybe, maybe, be 10% as cool as Bruce. But by then, he’ll be 95 and still teaching classes on being awesome.
I suppose there is a reason they call him The Boss – he is everyone’s superior.
Why am I so baffled?
Several things about Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band leave my jaw resting on my laptop. They are as follows:
· Does Springsteen age?
· Soul patches aren’t cool; it’s a universal law. Why is it Bruce makes me want one on my face? It’s like your dad having a soul patch, except your dad isn’t a living legend.
· How does Steve Van Zandt fit those skinny jeans on? He is shaped like the guy from Despicable Me!
· Is the E Street Band a group of separate people sharing the same mind or just psychic? ‘Cause it seems like they can read each other’s minds.
· Why isn’t every band this awesome? I’m looking at you, Kings of Leon/Nickelback/every other generic band that everyone inexplicably loves.
That’s about it. The point is, if you want a master’s course (a correspondence course – even better!) in how to rock, watch Bruce Springsteen’s London Calling: Live in Hyde Park. It’s worth every minute.
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