The Screen Door Slams

Bruce Springsteen on Broadway

Walter Kerr Theater, New York City

by Kevin Salem

Let’s not dwell on the setup. Briefly, though, as a young punk, I sold a guitar amp to the Boss during one of his many appearances in my hometown of Johnstown, PA. I was not a fan. In fact, I was a detractor, so when his manager asked if I wanted a ticket to his show that night, I proudly refused. That’s as close as I’d ever come to seeing a Springsteen show. Over the years, through the brilliance of Nebraska, Darkness on the Edge of Town and a few other offerings– most notably, the first 10 minutes of the Hammersmith ’75 video– I have become, if not a full-fledged fan, a repentant appreciator. So when a dear friend offered me a ticket to see Springsteen on Broadway, I decided it was time to put an exclamation point on my conversion.

Sadly– or perhaps proudly– I must report that I still have not seen a Springsteen concert, and it’s likely I never will. Funnily, my friend, a Parisian musician and Bruce fanatic who had not previously seen a Broadway production can at least say he lost his Great White Virginity. Despite the fact that he performed 10 or so of his most iconic songs, Springsteen on Broadway is more Broadway than Springsteen. Regular Guy Bruce took the stage in black jeans and tee, without makeup, and began a monologue about his New Jersey roots. Springsteen has honed his vision of America in song, political campaigning and interviews with great care over the years. My hometown, once the center of the steel and coal industries, appears in many of his lyrics because of its decline and fall as much as its proto-working class image. On my way to Times Square, my anticipation was interrupted by a daymare, a vision of a crazy on violent rampage in central Manhattan, culminating with the public assassination of the Boss. Please don’t ask why, as I have no explanation, apart from my unconscious anticipation of this; from the moment he began speaking, it was clear that Springsteen’s American narrative has been rendered obsolete by decades of uber-conservative dominoes falling and the chaotic collapse that is Donald Trump. The communities and economies that shaped his vision of us were only possible because of what we did not acknowledge; that that church around the corner was a hotbed of sexual abuse and homophobia, that the business of public education was a training ground for laborers who would see their wages stripped by greedy CEO’s, that children born after 2001 may never live a day in a country not at war, that Bedford Falls has ultimately lost to Mr. Potter. I’m not trying to be a downer, and I wish it weren’t so, but it is. Those who failed to accept that Born in the USA is a protest song can rest easy, knowing they own the country, at least for now.

My hometown. (Walker Evans)

“In boardwalk towns, everything has a tinge of fraud.” This was Springsteen’s first pronouncement. Throughout the course of the show, he verified his humility by admitting to his own. “The guy that wrote Born to Run lives 10 minutes from his hometown,” and, “I’ve never seen the inside of a factory, never worked in one, never even worked five days a week until now... and I don’t like it.” As much as these lines were greeted with the laughter that they were intended to elicit, the honesty at their core was refreshing in a world where lesser “great” men are parading to microphones daily (or not) to cop to their indiscretions. Broadway has a way of making everything milquetoast, and that is the shame of Springsteen on Broadway. The Boss was genial and polite, even apolitical, because this was, by definition, not rock and roll. But to categorize it as purely theatrical would deny Springsteen’s integrity. So, at its best, it felt like gratitude, a (final?) high five to his loyal fans from one of the most adored musicians of our time. Springsteen spent fifty years telling his audience’s story, giving them a voice among the cool, and this read like an epilogue. 

The story of how he discovered Rock & Roll is not substantially different than any other musician’s I know. It starts with a spark of inspiration– for me, it was seeing a band of teens at a church picnic playing “Little Bit O Soul,” for him, it was seeing Elvis on TV– before progressing to the trip to the music store with mom, the posing in front of the mirror, and ultimately the obsession. I never mind hearing this story, but I did kind of cringe at hearing it recited over an E chord pedal in the middle of “Growing Up.” Really, that’s just me being a dick, but why not just let the song tell the story? And I guess this is really the crux of my feelings about the show. If I’ve resisted Springsteen, it’s because I am not much for “on-the-nose” in a medium where there are so many tools of allusion at our fingertips. Why explain shit to death? 

On a purely musical level, though, there was one stretch of five minutes that was truly stunning. Springsteen met Ron Kovic by chance, and Kovic, as the story goes, took him to a VA hospital. When Bruce introduced “Born in the USA” as a soldier’s blues, a protest song, his veneer cracked, and the palpable impatience with its misuse as a theme song for empire builders was unmistakable and refreshingly tense. One of the things about this guy that is seldom mentioned is that he is a great guitar player. Not competent, not just good... he can fucking play. After a couple minutes of absolutely blistering and authentic slide guitar, the lyric was quietly delivered as an a capella blues. By quiet, I mean not quiet at all, but like a lid held on a pot that desperately needs to boil over. It was greatness, and no matter my taste, my history, my expectations or the setting, there is no denying greatness. I would be an idiot to try and bullshit away Springsteen’s.

Here, for the diehards, is a list of the songs: 

1. "Growin' Up"

2. "My Hometown"

3. "My Father's House"

4. "The Wish"

5. "Thunder Road"

6. "The Promised Land"

7. "Born in the U.S.A."

8. "Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out"

9. "Tougher Than the Rest"

10. "Brilliant Disguise"

11. "The Rising"

12. "Long Walk Home"

 13. "Dancing in the Dark"

14. "Land of Hope and Dreams"

15. "Born to Run"

Though nothing touched the brilliance of “Born in the USA,” there were some great performances and many reminders that the Boss can still sing his ass off. But it was about the story. It was about his love of Rock & Roll, his America, his band, his family, his life. He listed a few things it takes to be a musician. The last was, “You need a special trick.” For fifty years, he’s made people think he’s telling their story for them, and that, he claims, is his trick. But for two hours, he exposed his “fraud” and walked back and forth between the piano and guitar with the gait of a seventy year old man. Allowing himself to let go of his superhero status, for me, was a better trick, and it took me writing this to understand that, even though it was the mass-mediated version of him, there are reasons to acknowledge his importance.