TUTTA UN’ALTRA MUSICA – IL BOSS E L’ ITALIANA 6^ PARTE

Siamo già alla sesta settimana del racconto di Sharonlacorta.  Qualche commento?  La puntata precedente è qua.

All’aeroporto, dopo aver firmato qualche autografo, Bruce si riunì alla band. Steve li salutò, senza riferimenti esagerati alla loro piccola fuga.
“Ehi! Avete fatto in tempo, bravi! Tutto ok, man?”
“Potrebbe andare meglio”
Nora salutò Steve.
“Ehi! Pirata! Vai a fare il pelandrone a casa????”
“Non vedo l’ora, piccola!”
Bruce prese Nora e la portò in un posto più appartato.
“Mi sembra incredibile, eppure non riesco a trovare le parole per esprimere come mi sento adesso…”
La abbracciò stretta a sé.
“Non vorrei partire… non voglio lasciarti, non così”
Nora, in un’inconsueta fase consolatoria, gli diede piccole pacche sulle spalle.
“Dai, è per il momento. Vediamo di far calmare questa bufera, riconsidereremo la situazione a bocce ferme e vedrai che sarà tutto più semplice.”
Bruce la baciò ancora e ancora, piccoli baci adesivi sulla bocca, e la stringeva come fosse un’adolescente che era appena stata delusa dall’infatuazione del momento. Si sentiva a pezzi e aveva la sensazione di esserlo molto più di lei.
“Prometti che ci penserai. Prometti che non approfitterai della lontananza e del tempo che scorre per far passare tutto in cavalleria”
Nora lo guardò e sorrise.
“Stai tranquillo, non succederà. Fammi tornare a casa, fammi parlare con la mia famiglia, con mio marito. E poi ho voglia di starmene un po’ nel mio nido, in montagna, nella mia stanza dello yoga, vicino alla mia stufa, sentire l’odore della prima legna che arde… L’autunno è alle porte, non vedo l’ora che arrivi il freddo… Questo è il mio numero di telefono – gli porse un foglietto – è sempre acceso: se trovi la segreteria o sto parlando o ti sei incasinato con il fuso e quindi è spento perché è notte, altrimenti sono raggiungibile sempre. Chiamami”
Bruce prese il foglietto, tirò fuori subito dalle tasche posteriori dei jeans il cellulare e lo memorizzò immediatamente.
“Lo farò appena avrò il segnale e tutte le volte che ti avrò in mente. Prenditi il bluetooth, quindi: ti terrò al telefono un’eternità”
Nora sorrise.
“Che piacevole regresso all’adolescenza..”
Il volo di Bruce venne chiamato.
L’uomo si tolse gli occhiali. Nora venne pervasa da brividi, nel guardare quel meraviglioso, normale volto segnato dal tempo, gli occhi scuri leggermente tristi, nel sentire il respiro di lui che si trasformava nel sospiro di insofferenza di chi non vuole adeguarsi alla contingenza. Bruce la strinse ancora, forte a sé, la baciò, prima solo labbra contro labbra e poi in un bacio più profondo, poi infilò il viso nel suo collo e poi tornò a stamparle sulle labbra tanti morbidi baci fitti. Nora sentì il bruciore delle lacrime avvamparle negli occhi e con le mani nelle mani, la voce piccola, gli disse:
“Comunque vada… è stato bellissimo”
Bruce non rispose. La baciò ancora poi si rimise gli occhiali scuri e, di colpo, si allontanò.
Nora iniziò ad annaspare. Le mancava l’aria. Un improvviso nodo allo stomaco le fece salire un singhiozzo, poi le lacrime iniziarono a scendere copiose. Non voleva singhiozzare all’aeroporto, in mezzo alla gente, come una ragazzina.
Bruce non si voltò. Cos’era successo, cos’aveva combinato? Lei moglie e madre, aveva coinvolto un uomo sposato con figli in una storia. Corse in bagno, dove potè, sebbene non completamente a suo agio, abbandonarsi al pianto dirotto ed ai singhiozzi.
Cercò di asciugarsi il viso ma si accorse di non avere fazzoletti. Come al solito! Quando ti servono non li hai mai! Mai quando hai il moccio che fa la candela, mai quando hai un bambino sporco di cioccolata fino ai capelli…
Si passò una mano sulle guance e… si accorse che il profumo del dopobarba di Bruce le era rimasto attaccato alla pelle. Chiuse gli occhi e inspirò profondamente col naso… inebriata.
Mentre stava per uscire dal bagno, con lo stomaco ancora sottosopra, il telefono squillò. Era lui.
Sorrise, aprendo la comunicazione.
“Che succede? Ci sono i dirottatori…?”
“No senti… quella cosa che hai detto prima della casa. Hai parlato di montagne?”
“Sì”
“Non ci sono montagne qui”
“Infatti io non vivo qui. Ci vivono i miei genitori”
“Dove si trova la tua casa?”
“Mandami il tuo email con un sms. Ti scrivo quando arrivo, ok? Così te lo faccio vedere in foto”
“Chiamami presto”
“Meglio che lo fai tu… tra viaggio e fuso… non so quando sarai di nuovo reperibile”
“Sei… magica”
“Che sete di normalità che hai…”
“Anche di tante altre cose…”
“Ehi! Sporcaccione, non sono più abituata a questo genere di battute!”
“In effetti sembravi molto più propensa ai fatti, ieri sera…”
“Gesù, non farmici pensare… Se ci ripenso mi vergogno tanto da correre in chiesa a confessarmi…”
Bruce rise.
“Sei un amore! Stai accorta”
“Lo farò”
“Ciao”
Bruce chiuse, senza aspettare una replica.
Nora guardò il lungo numero sul cellulare. Opzioni, salva, Springsteen, Bruce, Salva? Sì. Chiamò il servizio clienti del provider e fece “aprire” il numero per il ricevimento degli sms anche oltreoceano. Poi si avviò verso l’uscita.

Dopo molte ore, giunse a casa. Scese dall’auto, scaricò la sua roba e passò dalle scale interne del garage all’ingresso. I bimbi le si fecero incontro, chiassosi e felci di vederla. Suo marito la salutò con un mugugno.
“Ti abbiamo persa di vista, dopo il concerto. Dove eri finita?”
“Dobbiamo parlare” rispose Nora.

Alla prossima settimana.

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STOCKHOLM FIRST DREAM NIGHT 04.06.2009 CC 930-931-932

Primo nostro concerto del tour di Working on a dream questo del 4 giugno scorso a Stoccolma.

Finalmente sono usciti i bootleg della Cristal Cat delle tre serate di Springsteen a Stoccolma, ecco intanto la prima data.

I dettagli del bootleg:

Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band
4 June 2009 Stockholm First Dream Nignt CC930-931-932

Idas Sommarvisa (Nils solo)
Who’ll Stop the Rain?
Badlands
My Lucky Day
Prove It All Night
Outlaw Pete
Out in the Street
Working on a Dream
Seeds
Johnny 99
The Ghost of Tom Joad
Raise Your Hand
I’m Goin’ Down
Cadillac Ranch
Because the Night
Wild Thing
Waitin’ on a Sunny Day
The Promised Land
The Wrestler
Kingdom of Days
Lonesome Day
The Rising
Born to Run
Hard Times
Bobby Jean
Land of Hope and Dreams
American Land
Glory Days
Twist and Shout
Dancing in the Dark

Prossima settimana il bootleg della seconda serata.

LITTLE EGYPT FROM ASBURY PARK (SPRINGSTEEN 1975)

Chissa se è di vostro interesse quest’ articolo dell’ ottobre 1975.

Buona lettura.

LITTLE EGYPT FROM ASBURY PARK
BRUCE SPRlNGSTEEN
D0N’T CRAWL ON
HIS BELLY NEITHER
DAVID MARSH
Bruce Springsteen sits cross-legged on his half-made bed, and surveys the scene.
Records are strewn across the room, singles mostly, intermixed with empty Pepsi
bottles, a motley of underwear, socks and jeans, half-read and half-written letters, an
assortment of tapes, and a copy of Richard Williams’ Out of His Head, the biography of Phil
Spector. The space is small, but Bruce and the two friends listening to Harold
Dorman’s “Mountain of Love” don’t mind. They’re listening for the final few bars of
“Mountain,” in which the drummer collapses and loses the beat—the song slows down
to a noticeably improper tempo, and the effect is nothing less than absurd.
Unfortunately Spnngsteen, unlubricated by anything more than the spirit of the
thing, is having trouble getting the turntable to spin consistently. (One of those weird
things with the green push button that lights up when you press it.) When he finally
does, it tu, rns out the record was warped. It is unplayable. Hysterically, Springsteen
sweeps it under the mass of accumulated debris.
“Here,” he says, “I’ll play ya something else.” He puts on a tape of he and the E Street
Barld at the Main Point in Philadelphia. Suddenly, out of the speakers booms his own
voice, carcking up at what he’s singing. (“That song has some of the best lines,” he
says shaking his head, “and some’of the dumbest.”) “Stan-din’ on a mountain iookin’ down
at the city, the way I feel t’nite is a dawgawn pity.” When the band comes in, the room
is charged. The playing and the singing is rough, even ragged, but it is alive, sparked
with the discovery of something vital in an old, trashy song. It has been a long time
since I heard anyone get this interested in rock and roll, even classic old rock and
roll. It has been a lot longer since anyone has gotten me so interested .
Song done, Springsteen snaps the tap,e recorder off. “There,” he says, with the
characteristic delinquent twinkle in his eye. “If that don’t get a club goin’, nothin’
will.”
Bruce Springsteen is determined to get’em going. The magic is that he doesn’t have to
be so determined to get himself going. Without being constantly “on,” like a
performer, Springsteen is constantly on, like someone who knows how good he is. He
is full of himself, confident without being arrogant, almost serene in his awareness of
what he is doing with his songs, his singing, his band. His music—and nothing gets in
the way of that. Unlike, say, Roxy Music, which makes very exciting music out of a
nearly desperate sense of boredom, Springsteen makes mesmerizing rock out of an
inner conviction that almost everything is interesting, even fascinating.
Take the three songs which, at this point, form the focus of the longawaited third
Springsteen album. “Born to Run” is almost a rock opera. But, rather than building his
concept piece around a derivative European anti-funk motif, Springsteen has built his
masterwork around a guitar line ripped straight from the heart of “Tel star.” It may
be too long (4:30) and too dense (layer upon layer of glockenspiel, voice, band,
strings) to be a hit, but it does capture the imagination with its evocation of
Springsteen’s usual characters—kids on the streets and ‘tween the sheets—and its
immortal catch-line: “Tramps hke us, baby we was born to run.”
Not that he couldn’t write something more classically oriented, if he needed to.
“Jungleland,” the ten minute opus which may very well serve as the title of the third
record, opens with 90 seconds of strings and percussion. But its influences are
classical in the way in which ’60s soul producers like Spector Holland-Dozier-Holland
and GambleHuff absorbed them, rather than in the way that pedants like those
unctuous Britons Yes and ELP have done. Its imagery is magnificient, exceeded only by
its music. Springsteen’s music is often strange because it has an almost traditional
sense of beauty, an inkling of the awe you can feel when, say, first falling in love or
finally discovering that the magic in the music is also in you. Which may also be first
falling in love.
“She’s the One,” on the other hand is pure sex, with a Bo Diddley beat that’s nothing
short of scary. Shorter, and less complicated than the other two, it could be the one.
(The Hollies’ “Sandy” might’ve beat him to it. As Springsteen fans know only too well
the Hollies’ version has almost nothing in common with Bruce’s. But then, what did
the Byrds’ “Mr. Tambourine Man” share with Dylan’s?)
All of this makes Bruce Springsteen just about what he thinks he is, or at least, hopes
to become: the Complete Rock and Roller. Few in rock and roll have attempted so
much. None of the ’50s rock and rollers were so ambitious—Elvis could have achieved
everything, even intellectual and production brilliance, without drawing a heavy
breath, if he had that ambition—and Bob Dylan never had the patience to, for
instance, make interestingly constructed records. The Beatles had the production
genius, with Martin and Spector and one suspects, without them, but they never
really had to tackle it on stage. In any case, like the Stones, their magic was more
collective than individual as subsequent events have shown. The Stones themselves
couldn’t be everything, because the scope of the group deliberately cannot contain
some of Springsteen’s farthest fetched (and I believe, most successful) ideas. For
instance, it’s hard to imagine Jagger coming out to sing a ballad as his first song, let
alone a ballad sung only against.violin accompaniment. Todd Rundgren had the idea,
and the scope, but—one suspects—not quite the guts or talent or sheer keening
madness to to go out and DO it, as a rock and roller. So he retired to the academy of
his own electronic idiosyncrasy.
And Rundgren’s myth was always internal. Because he spent so much time in the
cloister of the studio, word had to spread the hard way, by those who shelled out for
his records. Certainly nothing to compare with Springsteen’s full-blown stage show,
which lately encompasses such tricks as the new introduction to the slowed down “E
Street Shuffle:” Springsteen recounts walking down an Asbury avenue . Iate one dark
night, and seeing a giant black man at the corner. “I took the money out of my
pockets and threw it on the ground. I took my jacket and threw it on the ground,” he
says, standing in the glare of a single spotlight. ‘Then he put out his hand”—the enor–
mous black palm of gargantuan, spooky saxophonist Clarence Clemmons suddenly
juts into the glare and Springsteen whispers: “SPARKS fly on E Street.” It is a truly
unforgettable moment, taking on a racial fear at the same time that it devastates it
into an almost trivial joke. (And works better because Springsteen’s music so fully
encompasses soul influences.)
So it goes with a number of oneliners. moments (“Brace yourselves,” he shouted at
the beginning of the final chorus of “Quarter to Three,” his third encore one night.
You had to be there to discover how necessary it was to do that), even songs. I’ve
only seen him do Then I Kissed Her,” a remake of the gorgeous old Crystals’ song,
once, for instance, and I’ve been thirsting for it ever since. In this sense, it may be to
his advantage that he has no record. Not only does word-of-mouth have a chance to
spread more completely, but every instant is more special because it is irretrieveable.
That sense that he is special has begun to pervade even Springsteen’s semi-private
life. When he showed up at a party for label mates Blue Oyster Cult. Springsteen
completely dominated the room. So much so that Rod Stewart and a couple of the
Faces no slouches at scene-stealing themselves, were all but ignored when they made
a brief appearance. Yet he has yet to lose his innocence. Going to visit the Faces later
that night, at the ostentatiously elegant Plaza Hotel, Springsteen feigned
awe—although you wondered if it were entirely feigned—at the mirrored, plushly
carpeted lobby.
Fragments of a legend have begun to build. There are the stories about school—in
high school, the time when he was sent to first grade by a nun, and, continuing to act
the wise-ass, was put in the embarassing position of having the first grade nun
suggest to a smaller child: “Johnny, show Bruce how we treat people who. act like
that down here.” Johnny slapped Springsteen’s face. Or in college, the story of how
the student body petitioned the administration for his expulsion, “because I was just
too weird for ’em, I guess.” The newa that his father was a bus driver, which gives
added poignancy to ‘Does This Bus Stop at 82nd Street.” (Which begins, “Hey, bus
driver, keep the change.”) Aphorisms are not beyond him: On Led Zeppelin: “They’re
like a lot of those groups. Not only aren’t they doirlg anything new they don’t do the
old stuff so good, either.” On marriage: “I lived with someone once for two years. But
I decided that to be married, you had to write married music. And I’m not ready for
that. ” On the radio: “I don’t see how anyone listens to [the local progressive rock
station]. Everything’s so damn long. At least if you listen to [the local oldies station]
you know you’re gonna hit three out of five. And the stuff you don’t like doesn’t last
long.”
All of this goes only so far, of course. A record, a hit record, is a crucial necessity.
Sales of the first two albums are over 100,000 but that’s nothing in America. There
are still large areas of the country where Springsteen hasn’t played—even important
large cities such as Detroit have been left out—and though the word travels fast, and
frequently, articles like this ultimately seem like just the usual rhetoric without
something to back them up. As one
Californian put it, “I’ve heard enough. It’s like having everyone tell me I’m really
missing something by not seeing Egypt; When’s he going to come out here?”
Presuming he has the hit he deserves, Springsteen should be hitting most of America
over the rest of the year. After an abortive arena journey with Chicago, he is, he says,
reluctant to play large halls ever again. But he is one of the few rockers who would
have any idea of what to do—except blast—in a room the size of a hockey rink. (Mick
Jagger is about the only example who comes to mind, though Rod Stewart and Elvis
do pretty well now that I think of it.)
Suppose that he does hit the big time. Even, suppose that he really is, as the ads have
it, “rock and roll future.” What happens then?
Since I believe that.all of the above is true, and is going to happen, I have been at
some pains to try to figure it out. Certainly, not a new explosion, a la Beatles and
Elvis. Those phenomena were predicated upon an element of surprise, of catching an
audience unaware, that is simply no longer operative. Not with rock on nationwide TV
too many times a week. And not the kind of quiet, in-crowd build-up that propelled
Dylan into the national eye. What Springsteen is after—nothing less than
everything—has to be bigger than that, in mass terms though it obviously cannot
exceed Dyian in influence, his biggest achievement.
Springsteen’s impact may very well be most fully felt as a springboard, a device to get
people to do more than just pay attention. He can, potentially, polarize people in the
way that Elvis, the Beatles, the Stones, Dylan—all the really great ones—initially did.
(Already, some early Springsteen fans feel alienated by his ever more forceful
occupation with his soul influences.) The key to the success of those four is that as
many hated them as loved them—but everyone had to take a position. God knows
who he’ll drag into the spotlight with him—it might have been the N.Y. Dolls, whose
passion for soul oldies was equal to his or Loudon Wainwright, whose cool, humorous
vision parallels Bruce’s in a more adult (sort of) way—but that ought to be something
like what will happen. Sort of the way Carl Perkins Jerry Lee Lewis and the other
rockabilly crazies followed Elvis.
He’s smart though . He said it all, one night. introducing “Wear My Ring Around Your
Neck,” the Presley oldie. “There have been contenders. There have been pretenders.
But there is still only one King.”
But no king reigns forever.

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AHMANSON THEATRE 01.05.1973





Questo credo sia uno dei più vecchi bootleg in DVD di Springsteen attualmente in circolazione.

La qualità è medio bassa e ci sono molti tagli, però io trovo che sia da avere assolutamente.

Non trovo la copertina, qualcuno me la potrebbe mandare?

I dettagli:


About an hour long, raw footage of primarily three songs – Spirit In The Night, Thundercrack and Wild Billy’s Circus Story from various camera angles interspersed with voices from the cameras and director, and seemingly random (occasionally upside-down) footage of unknown people sitting around on grass talking. Also includes audio snips of Tokyo and (if you’re really paying attention) Saint In The City.

A curiousity, too many cuts and splices to be really enjoyable, but interesting nevertheless.

Recorded on a standalone recorder in XP mode, with a standalone menu. Chapters for some reason about every 30 seconds or so.

brucebase info:

01/05/73 – AHMANSON THEATRE, LOS ANGELES, CA

SPIRIT IN THE NIGHT / CIRCUS SONG / TOKYO / THUNDERCRACK / TWIST AND SHOUT

ONE show, triple billing, held in the sold out 2,000-seat Ahmanson Theatre, with Springteen opening for DR HOOK & THE MEDICINE SHOW and headliner NEW RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE. This concert is often confused with the private CBS Sales Convention show (see 27/07/73 for details). However the Ahmanson Theatre show was a normal, public admission event – but incorporating an unusual format. Organized and promoted by CBS as “A Week To Remember” – 7 consecutive nightly shows, each show featuring 3 different CBS artists. Bruce and the band flew to L.A. on April 30th, stayed at the Hilton hotel, performed on May 1st and returned east on May 3rd. The above-mentioned setlist represents Bruce’s complete 40-minute performance. The recording of “Circus Song” from this show was issued promotionally by CBS on July 7, 1973 on as part of its “Playback” EP series. The remainder of the audio from this show is uncirculating, except for the brief snippits of “Spirit” and “Thundercrack” that accompany its corresponding video snippits.

All 7 shows in the Ahmanson series were filmed in color by Arnold Levine Productions on behalf of CBS, whose intention was to have material to show its reps at the CBS Sales Convention in July. This happened, Bruce’s complete performance was shown several times at the Convention – but has never been shown anywhere since. It remains in CBS’s vault. Brief snippits of “Circus Song” and “Thundercrack” were utilized in mid-1974 as part of a promo-only video clip created by CBS to promote the Wild & Innocent LP. This clip readily circulates and, indeed, was shown in the VH1 Rocumentary. The frustratingly brief film excerpt of Springsteen performing “Spirit In The Night” on piano that was shown in the 1998 “Bruce Springsteen: A Secret History” BBC Documentary – it’s from this show. “Tokyo” was preceded by the Ducky Slattery monologue and at the conclusion of “Thundercrack” a giant Garden State Parkway sign descended from the ceiling – the only time this prop was ever utilized (see photo below). “Twist And Shout” was the encore. Three songs from this appearance (“Spirit In The Night”, “Circus Song” and “Thundercrack”) were officially released as (elaborately restored) bonus footage on the “Wings For Wheels” documentary DVD in 2005.

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TUTTA UN’ ALTRA MUSICA – IL BOSS E L’ ITALIANA 5^ PARTE

Quinta parte del racconto di Sharonlacorta, la precedente la trovate qui.

Commenti?  Vi piace, vi fa schifo?  Meglio se la finiamo qui?  O siete curiosi di vedere come va a finire?

Vi ricordo questo post.

Nora gli rispose sopra pensiero.
“57 channels and nothin on…”
Bruce trovò un paio di jeans, una camicia bianca, calze, tornò in bagno, si vestì rapidamente. Tornato in camera si avvicinò a Nora, preoccupato.
“Che c’è?”
“Come ti senti?”
“Io? Bene.”
Nora tacque. Bruce continuò.
“Ho l’impressione di aver dato la risposta sbagliata…”
“Io non mi sento bene per niente, invece” disse lei.
Spense la tv.
“Io sono sposata e ho due bambini e ho trascorso la notte con un altro uomo. Sposato con figli. Non mi sento bene per niente”
“Nora, il mattino dopo uno…”
“No! Fammi finire!”
Bruce abbassò il capo. Proprio quel tipo di reazione che deplorava anche in sua moglie.
“Non credere, – cominciò Nora, riempiendosi l’aria di polmoni forse anche per trovare la forza di iniziare e finire il discorso in un unico periodo – che la notte scorsa non sia stato bello. Dall’inizio alla fine è stata la notte più bella che io ricordi. E detesto l’idea che questa sensazione resti confinata alle 24 ore appena trascorse. E proprio questo detestare, in contraddizione con gli affetti che mi aspettano a casa mia, mi fa andare fuori di testa. Non posso mangiare il dolce e non ingrassare. Non posso vuotare la botte e non essere ubriaca. Non posso avere i miei figli e… avere te. Sempre ammesso che… questi pensieri abbiano scosso anche la tua di coscienza, cosa che in effetti dubito”
Bruce sorrise, scettico.
“Solo con tempistiche diverse dalle tue”.
Nora lo guardò incredula.
“… scherzi?”
“Mai stato tanto serio”
“Io ho dei figli. Non posso lasciarli soli”
“Anche io ho dei figli. Si fanno delle scelte nella vita e a volte le conseguenze di queste scelte posso costare molto care”
“Appunto Bruce. Io la mia scelta l’ho fatta sette anni fa, sposando mio marito. Avendo i miei figli”
“Può… capitare di cambiare idea. E fare scelte diverse”
“Non è giusto che altri paghino per le tue scelte”
“Eppure è così. Dalla notte dei tempi”
Nora iniziò ad irritarsi.
“Cosa implica il tuo insistere tanto a contraddirmi?”
“Il tuo stesso desiderio di non voler confinare il piacere di ieri notte a ieri notte. Mi rendo perfettamente conto, a mente fredda che questo comporterà un casino dell’accidente, ma non sono disposto a perdere quello che ho trovato ieri. Che ho di fronte a me in questo momento”
Fece una pausa.
“Non chiedermi come questo sia potuto accadere nello spazio di così poche ore, eppure è così. E ti assicuro che sono stato – e sono tutt’ora – dilaniato dai tuoi stessi dubbi. Ma una cosa sola è limpida e sicura nella mia mente. Non voglio perderti”
Nora lo guardò, muta.
Adesso sì che la faccenda si complicava maledettamente.
Preoccupata e confusa si alzò dalla poltroncina.
“Se vogliamo mangiare e arrivare per tempo all’aeroporto dobbiamo darci una mossa”
Bruce la seguì fuori dalla stanza senza colpo ferire.

Bruce addentò il panino da dietro gli occhiali scuri, senza nemmeno troppo entusiasmo. Qualche ospite del fast food iniziava a voltarsi, mormorando, evidentemente lo avevano riconosciuto. Nora invece sbocconcellava le patate fritte, prelevandole ad una ad una, con le unghie lunghissime. Bruce le guardò le mani.
“Non sono scomode da tenere? Le unghie così lunghe…”
“Mh. Un po’. Ma ingentiliscono la mano. E la mia mano ne ha bisogno”
“Quanti anni hanno i tuoi figli?”
“4 e 5 anni”
“6 mesi durante il periodo scolastico non sarebbero male”
“Di che stai parlando?”
“Potresti restare qui 6 mesi con loro, durante il periodo scolastico…”
“… e gli altri sei mesi? Questa voglio proprio sentirla” Nora fece trasparire un ironico tono di sfida. Bruce lo ignorò.
“I miei figli sono grandi. E abituati a vedermi molto meno. Sei mesi a casa sarebbero una manna dal cielo per loro. Ma poi a quell’età il rapporto è diverso. E io sono il padre”
Nora alzò lo sguardo e sorrise maligna.
“Meno male…”
Nora tentò di riprendere seriamente l’argomento.
“Quindi gli altri sei mesi, se tu sei a casa TUA, io che dovrei fare?”
“Starci con me”
“Negli States”
“M-mh”
“Ti ho accennato al fatto che la performance come padre di mio marito non è relativa al suo lavoro?”
“Ricordo vagamente”
“Se io mi assento sei mesi potrebbero essere dolori coi bambini. No, non posso. Devo restare qui”
“Ci sarebbe un’altra soluzione”
“Dimmi”
“Che li portassi con te”
Nora sospirò, iniziando a mangiare il panino. Effettivamente… Era meno scema dell’altra come idea.
“Non posso portarli via dal padre”
“Potresti fare l’anno accademico con loro e poi portarli da noi a fare le vacanze. Se vi… accordate senza accapigliarvi, magari accetta”
“Nove mesi qui e tre da te?”
“Mh”
“Che razza di casino…” Nora scosse la testa.
Suo marito non avrebbe mai accettato, lei questo lo sapeva. E forse non aveva nemmeno tutti i torti.
“Dobbiamo deciderlo ora? Non credo, no? Dai, andiamo all’aeroporto, che questo posto inizia ad irritarmi”
“Questi sono discorsi che dovrei fare io, che sono la rockstar…” ironizzò Bruce.

Alla prossima settimana.

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THE WILD, THE INNOCENT & THE E STREET SHUFFLE 07.11.2009

Per quanto riguarda la scaletta direi che questo bootleg di Springsteen al Madison Square Garden di New York lo scorso 7 novembre è imperdibile, dal punto di vista tecnico è nella media. Le riprese sono da maxi schermo come la maggior parte dei lavori della NYC Bitch Commettee.

La scaletta della serata la trovate qui.

I dettagli del bootleg:

First night in the Madison Square Garden, 11-07-2009.

The Wild, The Innocent & The E Street Shuffle

Complete show, screenshot by NYCBC. THANKS to the tapers!!

Setlist:

DVD 1

1. Thundercrack
2. Seeds
3. Prove It All Night
4. Hungry Heart (Crowd Surfing)
5. Working on A Dream
6. The E Street Shuffle
7. 4th Of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)
8. Kitty’s Back
9. Wild Bill’s Circus Story
10. Incident On 57th Street
11. Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)
12. New York City Serenade

DVD 2

13. Waitin’ on A Sunny Day
14. Raise Your Hand (sign collection)
15. Does this Bus Stop at 82nd Street
16. Glory Days
17. Human Touch
18. Lonesome Day
19. The Rising
20. Born to Run
21. Wreckin’ Ball (preceded by PSA)
22. Bobby Jean
23. Hard Times
24. American Land
25. Dancing In The Dark
26. Higher and Higher (w/Elvis Costello)

Due spezzoni dal DVD bootleg:

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SCATTERED LIKE DRY LEAVES 28.08.1981

Bootleg audio del concerto di Springsteen alla Sport Arena di Los Angeles il 28 agosto 1981. Ottimo audio.

I dettagli:

Title: Scattered Like Dry Leaves
Label: Ev2
Format: 3CD
Source: Audience
Date: August 28, 1981
Location: Sports Arena, Los Angeles, CA

Disc One:
01 Rocking All Over The World
02 Out In The Street
03 Prove It All Night
04 Darkness On The Edge Of Town
05 Independence Day
06 Intro
07 Deportee (Plane Wreck At Los Gatos)
08 Trapped
09 Two Hearts
10 Who’ll Stop The Rain?
11 The Promised Land
12 I Fought The Law
13 The River
14 Intro / “That Burden Of Shame”
15 This Land Is Your Land
16 Badlands

Disc Two:
01 Thunder Road
02 Hungry Heart (w/ Flo & Eddie)
03 You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch)
04 Cadillac Ranch
05 Sherry Darling
06 Proud Mary
07 Fire
08 Racing In The Street
09 Intro / “Blueberry Hill”
10 Backstreets
11 Ramrod*
12 Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)

Disc Three:
01 “Very End Of Our Tour”
02 Jungleland
03 Born To Run
04 Detroit Medley
05 Quarter To Three

06 10th Avenue Freeze-Out**
07 Follow That Dream**
08 Growin’ Up**
09 Johnny Bye Bye**
10 Point Blank**

* missing couple seconds from beginning, tried to mix as unnoticable as possible with fadein/out
** Sports Arena, Los Angeles, CA August 27, 1981

======

Once again from MarkP’s master tapes.

I actually already finished this a while ago, but threw the cd’s away – it didn’t sound as good as a show like this should.
So I edited the show completely again.. it took a while to get this done but here it is finally.
IMO one of Springsteen’s best performances/setlists and some great covers. Huge thanks to MarkP for sharing his recording!

Also as a bonus track a hilarious Growin’ Up about never growing old and beating up Peter Pan..

======

Only performance of Deportee and debut of Proud Mary.  -brucebase

The Los Angeles ’81 stand deserves a serious consideration as best stand of Springsteen’s career,
from the opening Vets benefit to this show, which featured the debuts of Woody Guthrie’s
“Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos)” and “Proud Mary.”
Other highlights include “Rockin’ All Over the World” and “I Fought the Law.” -theboots.net

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