I’m not really a Springsteen fan but I watched the last half-hour of his set at Glastonbury on the telly box last night. Well I say I’m not a fan but whilst I don’t like his politics I do find him evocative of a certain pre-Prius America. And…
Jeezus, he’s nearly sixty and he was well belting it out and putting on a hellishly kinetic show right to the end. I only found out later that was a 5/2 hour set (physics backgound – I think in vulgar fractions – for some reason it winds peeps up). Gotta hand it to the guy. Like Tom Jones he’s still got it. I mean really still got it. He’s like The Stones and the Divine Debbie and Tom Jones and Tina Turner. He just keeps on truckin’.
I thought three things though, mainly –
The first was wondering what Jacko, nine years Springsteen’s junior, would have been like if he had looked after himself and not degenerated into the drug-addled wreck of a man he was in his twilight years
The second was that unlike so many contemporary beat combos Bruce and the E-Street Band actually looked like they were really enjoying themselves. That was great to see. I have had a gutfull of watching professional miserablists thinking they were being profound by looking like they’d rather be having dental surgery from Larry Olivier in Argentina at the time. Yes, that’s you Mozzer, you utterly dismal twat. Or my personal bête noire, Moby. Moby is a right-on, non-smoking, teetotal and vegan god-botherer who really doesn’t do drugs and who has been known to descend into the musical Room 101 that is known as “Christian Rock”. I’d rather climb coconut trees with Keef Richards. At least we could have a larf on the way to A&E.
But mainly what I thought was…. Well, at one point Springsteen who was sweating like a pig in a sauna and heavily backlit and the perspiration was evaporating off him and it looked like smoke and that he was literally on fire. My wife says, “Bloody hell! They’ve set The Boss on fire!” It really did look like it. It was quite bizarre to watch.
Fortunately we didn’t lose two musical legends in the same week. The intermong would collapse under the weight of the faux-grief…
Although to be fair spontaneous human combustion is one hell of a way to end a gig.
Very Spinal Tap.
Though I guess only if it happens to the drummer.