me and bruce

Me and Bruce had a rocky start to our relationship. When I had just started out at senior school we had this prefect who was in charge of looking after our class. And I remember at the time we all thought he was the coolest man on the planet. He used to come in and play us Stereophonics covers on his acoustic guitar before assembly, tell us how it was, and best of all discuss his sex life with us during games of fumble (having read this back that really sounds quite inappropriate, but what I mean is the innocent game when you throw a ball against a wall and try not to fumble the ball). Which for a bunch of 12 year old school boys in a predominately all boys school was, well, maybe not jaw dropping but certainly an eye opener. He used to tell us about ‘sex Wednesdays’ when he’d skip school and go and ‘give it’ to his girlfriend all afternoon long. I remember one of my slightly over excited class mates asking him with genuine curiosity had he ever strapped a dildo to his head and done her that way.

But anyway, skip forward about four years, the aforementioned prefect has left school and we were a bit more savvy, we knew what was cool and what was not and most of all we were beginning to think what the fuck was this prefect doing hanging out with twelve year olds, playing us Stereophonics covers and telling us about his sex life, I mean, what a fucking loser. And he was, he really was, I’m really not exaggerating just for the sake of the story. So, we’re at this party of one of our mate’s older sisters, and who is there but the aforementioned prefect sporting a leather jacket with his hair in a pony tail. Spotting some of his former disciples he approaches. ‘Alright lads’. ‘Yep, no, we’re alright thanks…’ So me and my friend started chatting with him. It turns out that he was now at uni in Manchester and singing in a band (who would have been alright if wasn’t for his awful lyrics and vocals) And after a brief chat with him he left us but not before giving us a last piece of advice. ‘Two things lads, firstly; at uni you’ll get bored of pussy, I mean all uni is, is pussy, pussy, pussy. All you have to do is go up to a girl, say, hi I’m Ed, I do Drama Studies, what do you do? And next thing you know you’re back at yours strapping a dildo to your head. Second, when it comes to music look no further than The Boss.’ ‘The who?’ ‘Springsteen man, you really have to look no further.’

Prior to this I had little exposure to The Boss, all I knew was that he was someone that my parents listend to and he was born in the USA. So for a few years after that anytime anyone mentioned Springsteen and I would dismiss it straight away. (I am deeply, deeply sorry Bruce.) But as my teenage angst was slowly becoming a distant memory I began approaching things with a more open mind. And then when I was driving round France one summer Born To Run came on my friends I Pod. And it hit me, what the hell have I been saying all these years, turn this up. BABY WE WERE BORN TO RUUUUUUN. Yes Springsteen. Suddenly everything before then seemed hollow, meaningless, just an empty void. On returning home I got everything The Boss had recorded. Not only did he have the hits but his albums were incredible as well. I mean Nebraska, an acoustic album with genuine gravity and beautiful songs. His early stuff, amazing as well, right from the word go in 1973 when he released Greetings From Asbury Park he was writing great songs. That’s over three decades of putting out monster tracks. In 2002, in the wake of 9/11 America was reeling, they had been suffered the worst attack on home soil and they had a man in the whitehouse for who was still trying to get to grips with pretzels. Up steps Springsteen, releasing The Rising, written about 9/11, but not only that, it was one of his best album in years. If ever there was time for Bruce to stand up for the country he loves so much, then surely that was it. The crowning moment for me came last summer when we went to see Springsteen at the Millenium Stadium. No support band, just two and a half hours of pure Bruce. And there were no lulls in the set. Two and half hours of tune after tune after tune. All the while Springsteen was running around, going into the crowd, falling to the ground and yes, a massive power slide on his knees. All around us 60,000 people (mainly middle aged men) having it to Bruce. Fucking brilliant. All we can do now is pray he’s is on the main stage at Glastonbury this summer.


Bruce Springsteen - Blinded By The Lights