Nothing will ever compete for sheer tone-deafness with Paul McCartney playing a zealous Super Bowl rendition of "Live and Let Die" at the height of the Iraq war. But Springsteen would have put America on its ass—its mind shortly to follow—had he strolled out with a Martin and played "The Wrestler." (And how about a nice "This one's for Danny," aka Danny Federici, the recently deceased keyboardist who was with Bruce for more than 40 years?) The national mood is sober bordering on a galloping panic. Lively as he was, I wouldn't say the Boss did much to either banish or capture it.
Yo, Steve, didn't you know that since January 20, we are in a time of hope and change! Hope and Change!!! But Steve is just another person reaching for his own personall Glory Days, and you know the jig is up when he writes:
Pardon me if I don't hear a note of true reciprocity in these words. Springsteen concerts, when I first attended, were Atlantic Coast joy fests for a small community of like-minded fans. To discover that many other people share a taste for something oddball is a source of true shelter from the agglomerating powers of the mass. A Postmodernist would scoff and say nothing has changed, that Springsteen was always only merchandise. True, but in every possible way, Springsteen holds himself out as a force against such Postmodernist sophistication—on behalf of meaning, sincerity, and authenticity!
By the way, Steve, ol' Bruce was never an "oddball"...he played straightforward American rock n' roll from Born to Run on...his music was intended to be heard and enjoyed (and was) by millions of Americans, not a niche audience of hipsters or whatever they called themselves 30+ years ago. So suck it.
If only The Boss had shown up at Stephen Metcalf's door for an intimate reprisal of the Nebraska and Ghost of Tom Joad albums during the halftime, I think all would have been forgiven.
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