Springsteen

The Boss. Bad Scooter. New Jerseys pride.

Bruce.

This wildly energetic man who time and again, for decades, manages to fill Swedish arenas (in June -85 almost literally) to breaking point.

For me, I think it all started with my father playing much of his music at home when I was little, often while cooking Friday night dinner. There was - and still is - something special with that combination. Bruce, Friday night, and dad's cooking. Bruce sort of became to me, what the bells were for Pavlovs dogs.

Somewhere in the transition between middle school and high school I started to borrow the Greatest Hits album from '95. After a while, it had in effect been given a permanent place on my (otherwise modest) CD-shelf. The Rising too soon spent less and less time in its place in my dad's CD collection.

When Bruce with his folk / gospel / New Orleans-stomp/Dixie-project The Seeger Sessions came to Stockholm Globe Arenas in December -06 I dragged the whole family there. It was absolutely amazing! Next time, in July -08, I dragged the whole family to the Olympic Stadium in Helsinki for Bruce and the E Street with the Magic sessions. And magical was what it was.

During the Working on a Dream tour, I had not planned on going to any concert. The combination of being a poor student + my usual M.O. of moderation and rationality equaled no concert for me. But shortly before the concerts in June -09 it was decided (as usual) that some additional tickets would be released. I could not resist. On 7 June 2009, my dad and I were two of the more than 30,000 who at Stockholm Stadium got to experience what would become Clarence Clemons’ last concert in Sweden. The last time we would hear that fantastic, epic, magical Jungleland solo.

The Big Man. If one has experienced this man IRL, one does not question Bruces answer to his own question in his eulogy at Mr.C’s memorial:

"How big was the Big Man?

Too fucking big to die. "

I'm so glad I was there.


One Saturday in July, just over three years later, my brother and I drove the approximately 500 kilometers to Gothenburg. E Street was on tour again, this time with Clarence's nephew Jake on the sax.

Wrecking Ball. It is indeed a fitting name for a concert at Ullevi stadium. But the arena had nevertheless managed to escape Friday nights sun-drenched concert without breaking. Saturday's concert was, however, set to be drenched in a more literal way. I'd never seen so much rain at one time before. The windshield wipers were frantic, rain coats were hastily bought on the way. After parking the car, we were forced to take shelter in a doorway for half an hour, so as to not to get completely soaked, while water sprayed out of manholes in the road like fountains. I had new suede shoes on (You're going to Gothenburg and put on suede shoes?! Very clever you are Sara, really). The plan was to wait for the concert in Nordstan. After a few trips by bus, tram (short trip, since the tram system broke down due to the heavy rain), and the bus again, we arrived there. Closed. The weight of the water had caused the roof to give way, calling for an emergency evacuation of the whole building. Finally, we managed to squeeze ourselves in to a kebab restaurant, and got some kind of dinner. All afternoon I was worried about what this downpour might lead to. What if they cancelled? But on twitter, Little Steven wrote that "there's something about the thought of fans waiting out in the rain all day that makes us crazy. I feel one for the ages coming on."

And the answer to the question in the opening song, a cover of CCR's Who'll Stop The Rain, is a given: Bruuuuuuce!

It is impossible to say what was best – this was definitely one of the big ones. I was not there at Ullevi in -85, so if it beats even that I don’t know. But certainly the eighties generation version of -85 . And I must say much of the credit goes to Jake Clemons. It's a heavy mantle he has to shoulder, and literally gigantic shoes to fill, but damn how well he does it!

Highlights include
- A fantastic Downbound Train, a personal favorite. And the dark clouds and the chilly winds that still draws over Gothenburg feels like a very fitting background.
- We Take Care Of Our Own kills it at a big stadium, when the intro starts it already feels like a classic.
- That I would start crying at some point during the evening was not at all unexpected, but I thought it wouldn’t be until Tenth Avenue. But then they go and play My City Of Ruins - Are we missin' anybody? Yes, we are...
- The rarity Frankie is exceptionally beautiful, and transforms Ullevi to a glittering sea of mobile lights. Powerful.
- A very familiar intro on harmonica, but it sounds pretty shitty. Could not have started that song more fucked up, Bruce laughs. Do it again, do it right. The River goes on to be very very right.
- A couple of strikes by Roy on the piano and jubilation rises. Because The Night is amazing regardless of version, but a large arena is clearly where it belongs. And Nils’ guitar solo, damn! Crazy impressive.
- Towards the end of Waitin 'On A Sunny Day Bruce lifts up a little boy of perhaps eight years on stage, and gives him the mic. He sings as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He deservedly receive one of the evening's biggest cheers. And, yes, I would gladly have traded places with him...
- When Where The Bands Are kicks off a very appreciative and slightly surprised cheer rises. It really is unbelievably good and there’s one hell of an atmosphere in the arena.
- Backstreets - what can I say? Amazing. Gorgeous. Incomparable. Take your pick.
- Last in the regular set list - even if the whole concert, now towards the end of the European tour, feels like one long and amazing encore - is one of my favorites from the Wrecking Ball album, Land Of Hope And Dreams: a brilliant song that grows even more live.

The evening's encore is comprised of some of the very greatest, including fantastic versions of my favorites Thunder Road and Dancing In The Dark. Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out is mandatory on this tour. After the bridge Bruce points out that "here's the important part". But we need no reminder. Ullevi gives up a long and tremendous roar for the Big Man, and tears fall down my face again. At Ullevi, Twist And Shout is just as mandatory, and after Tenth Avenue everyone thinks it's time. But no. Instead, Bruce begins to talk about what Sweden has meant for Clarence. We haven’t played it for a very long time and haven’t rehearsed it. The number of keys the intro is played in suggests he wasn’t exaggerating... But when it’s past midnight, after more than three hours and 29 songs, many of which with stunning sax solos by Jake; after the incredible and intense tribute to The Big Man in Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out, it’s as if the entire stadium thinks “who the fuck gives a damn?” It's Jungleland. No wait, let me say that again: J U N G L E L A N D. Jungleland that so many hoped but few believed would ever be played live again. And when E Street eventually decides on a key, it becomes just as magical as it was in Stockholm in -09. Ullevi is bathing in light, and more than 66 500 backing vocals join in "as we take our stand down in Jungleland." When the solo comes, it becomes wonderfully clear that even though the rest of the band hasn’t, Jake has rehearsed it until he owns it. Amazing. The concert ends with a close to a quarter of an hour long stadium breaker, here at the birthplace of the concept. The atmosphere is euphoric, Twist And Shout is mixed with La Bamba, Bruce seems high on adrenaline and appears not to want the night to ever end. When, at about half past midnight, Bruce and the band finally walks off the stage, the lights are put out and the crowd begin to make its way out, it’s evident that Little Steven was right in his twitter prophecy: One for the ages, indeed.

And I was there.