I was actually not born to run. As I’ve been writing about lately in my book “Bats, Balls, and Burnouts” I grew up as a pretty sickly kid, to the point where the fact I actually did grow up (and grow out of a bunch of maladies) was kind of surprising, especially in retrospect. I guess you could say I was born to sniffle, wheeze, hack, and cough. What a calling!

But, as you’ve probably already surmised in reference to today’s title, Bruce Springsteen was apparently born to run and he was born to play the epic song “Born To Run” in front of tens of thousands of devoted fans all around the world. Last Saturday night, at Consol Energy Center in downtown Pittsburgh, Bruce and the E Street Band closed a raucous and energetic show with “Born To Run” as the de facto encore (they never actually totally left the stage, but it was clearly reserved as an encore song). My wife Barbara, her brother Tim, his wife Kelly, and yours truly were there to witness this extravaganza and I can just about guarantee that all three Doyles in the party are still buzzing and still talking about it.

And here’s an important disclaimer and an admission of guilt. All my life, since my mid-teens anyway, I’ve over-analyzed music and over-dissected what makes it tick, rather than just enjoying it as a package. It’s just how I am and how I’m wired. I almost never have “vanilla” music on in the background, because to me music is an active immersion thing and it’s very common for me to listen to music and have that active listening be the entire focus of what I’m doing. In college, other guys would just have something on the stereo, but I sat at my desk with the lyric sheets and the liner notes and I blocked everything else out to really “listen” and figure out why certain songs were getting to me (and it was almost never the lyrics). I love that about bands and artists who challenge the listener to pick it apart and see that the individual parts are there for a reason, and not just to create a rhythm, or grab you with a catchy hook, or keep the beat. Heck, I like it when the rhythm surprises me, or takes an unexpected turn when I least expect it (see “Black Dog” by Led Zeppelin – an absolutely ground-breaking rock song that is under-appreciated for it’s creative use of missing beats and extra beats.) I’m just like that. I can’t help it, and I doubt I’ll ever change. So that’s why this blog is what it is. It’s my perspective. I’m a nerd. My musical tastes completely reflect that. Not saying I’m proud of it, or wouldn’t want to be able to flip a switch and hear things differently without parsing every note and beat, but it’s who I am. So there. Just ask my college roommates. Talk about often not “getting it.” That was their view of their crazy roommate playing that weird crap.

Springsteen’s fans are, I think, very unique and incredibly special. There don’t seem to be too many people who are “middle of the road” when it comes to being a Bruce fan. Most of his fans are avidly devoted, earnestly enamored, and in complete awe of him and the band, and they consider the concerts to be exercises in utter joy and immersed interaction. It’s really something to be a part of, and it’s an experience unlike almost any other concert I’ve ever attended, and I’ve attend many hundreds of shows, with my first concert being The Who at the Mississippi River Festival amphitheater on August 16, 1971 (I looked that up.) I was 15 and there were about 30,000 people there. What a way to kick off your concert history!

As for Bruce’s fans, I think it’s more about the man and the impact he’s had on so many people from all walks of life, rather than being immersed in the actual playing. He really MEANS something to them. He’s had an impact on them. They love him, and his work, and they burn a thousand calories at the show, rocking and dancing and singing along all through the night. I’ve heard Barbara and many others say “His songs speak to me” or “His songs got me through some tough times” and there can hardly be any higher praise for a musician. There is an unbroken connection between Bruce and his fans that’s unlike any I’ve ever witnessed, and as the demographics of the Pittsburgh crowd would attest, this connection has been going on for decades. That’s something very special. I marvel at it.

My favorite band (a little trio from Toronto) is pretty much the polar opposite in terms of their connection to their rabid fans. For Rush nerds like me, it actually is about the playing, and the technical prowess, and the power of the music, and the geeky quality of the lyrics, and the absolute devotion those three guys have to making the most complicated and challenging songs they can write and play, while still making it something you can rock-out to and play air-drums with. But, I totally get why Springsteen fans are as nuts about their hero as Rush fans are about Geddy, Neil, and Alex. Both fan groups end up at the exact same place, focusing on every line in every song, and going crazy watching and participating in the events, which are easily among the most collaborative in music, in terms of the fans and the bands getting through the show together, pushing each other further. But, they come at it from different directions while caring about different aspects of the music.

To get all analogous with you, try this. Imagine a big round room that represents the concert “experience” and it has about two dozen long hallways connecting to it like spokes on a wheel hub. Every fan in the room is having the same basic exhilarating experience, but they came to that point from different long hallways featuring different artwork on the walls. They’re all (hopefully) having a great time, but they’ve come to that point with vastly different expectations and backgrounds and while the experience is the same the music would likely be completely different. It’s fascinating for me to have finally figured this out and put it all together, and because I’m not as emotionally attached to Springsteen’s music I come at it from a very analytical approach (hallway), trying to understand just what it is that makes it what it is.

Whoa. Okay, that was a little “off the deep end” in terms of an analogy, right? I told you I was a little geeky about this subject. I can’t help myself.

Back to the point. For a long time, I just didn’t “get” Bruce and I didn’t really get why so many people were so over-the-top fanatical about his music and his shows. I really like a bunch of his songs and have for a very long time, but oddly my favorite Springsteen song is “Tunnel Of Love” and while a lot of Bruce fans dig that piece a lot as well, I don’t ever recall hearing any of them echo my thoughts that it’s his best single tune. And I think that’s just me coming at it from a different direction. The abstract and very clever lyrics, the moodiness and depth of the playing, and the creative bent that makes it more than just a rock song. That’s more like me and what I like.

So, after Barbara and I got married on New Year’s Eve in 1997, I began to hear her stories about Bruce concerts and Bruce albums, and it was all sort of in a foreign language to me. I knew it was good. I knew how uber-popular he was, but it just wasn’t up my musical alley. When Barb was first discovering Bruce (and yes, it was her brother Tim who introduced her long before we met) I was into bands like Genesis, Yes, Supertramp, Queen, The Police, and (of course) Rush, all “progressive” bands in that the structure and the technicality of the playing was really important. About as mainstream as I got was the Moody Blues, Traffic, The Who, and Jethro Tull. So that was my background and my perspective. That’s my hallway to get to the room. When I first started going to Springsteen concerts with my bride, they almost seemed like country shows to me. And it wasn’t loud enough!

But that’s all just perspective. It’s the view with which I arrived, coming down a hall on the other side of the musical universe (room). Slowly, over time, I began to absorb what was making Springsteen so popular among so many people. They simply come to that point from their unique and different angle, cherishing and admiring totally different things and wanting an experience that’s much more inclusive and encompassing. It’s not a show, it’s a gathering and a shared bit of humanity and art. You’re PART of it, not just a fan there to watch. I realize I’m finally starting to “get” that and the show in Pittsburgh was the next step in that evolution. Rush shows are exactly like that too, but they are simultaneously completely different in the approach. (Okay, and in the volume level, too.)

I’ll always be a Rush fan, I still play Yes and Genesis quite often, and I have a remastered Jethro Tull playlist on my iPad that remains some of my favorite music ever, but I’m starting to get what it’s about and I’ve totally gotten to the place where I understand it. It’s not my inherent “style” of music, but I at least completely get its allure and attraction. The “Why it is” reasoning that makes the dynamic happen. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s special, and it’s unique.

The show was the first stop on this new tour, in which Bruce and the band play the entire album “The River” not only in its entirety, but in the correct play order from start to finish. That’s cool. “The River” was released in late 1980 and when Springsteen came to Pittsburgh to play at the old Civic Arena (the Igloo!) Tim asked his sister Barbara to go with him to the show. Her life, at least in terms of what music means to her, has never been the same. That’s even cooler.

This year, almost 36 years later, Bruce again kicked off his tour in the friendly confines of the Pittsburgh arena, this time the Consol Energy building, the new home of the Penguins. And…  It. Was. PACKED! No curtains behind the stage, no upper level seats in the nosebleeds blocked off. Every seat sold, and on the floor the General Admission area was wall-to-wall. The name of the venue was coincidental, but man there was a lot of energy in that place. And the same little brother was there with his same big sister. That was as cool as it gets.

(And remember, you can click on these photos to enlarge them!)

Tim’s wife Kelly is in a wheelchair, so they had seats in a special section up at the top of the 200 level, pretty much next to the side of the stage. Barbara and I had seats two sections over, further from the stage but with a better angle and down in the third row of the upper level. It was remarkable how different the experience was between the two locations, and I know this because about 12 songs in we arranged for a brother and his sister to sit in those seats while I moved over and sat with Kelly.

Okay, here’s something that cracked me up so much I had to put it on Facebook and Twitter from the arena. The aisle where Tim and Kelly’s seats were was perfectly numbered for any fan of early Michael Keaton movies. If this photo means nothing to you, that’s why. If you get it, you’ll possibly giggle out loud a little.

The sound was completely different next to Kelly, with the instruments being more impactful and the sound being (yay!) a little louder. But the vocals were a little muddier over there. In our original seats, the vocals were sharper but the instruments sounded a little buried. Such are the vagaries of trying to do the impossible at the sound-mixing board: Play an “intimate” show in front of 20,000 people in an enormous building. But, in both spots it was great. A really amazing experience.

After “The River” portion of the show concluded, Bruce finished up with some longtime favorites and hits, but then he stopped the show to remember David Bowie, who had just passed away. He recalled how even back in 1973 Bowie had seen him, and encouraged him, and he’d always been a big proponent of what Bruce was doing (and keep in mind my earlier points about perspective, because Bowie’s early music was also about 180-degrees out from where Bruce was coming from, but artists that are truly artists can relate to each other). And then Bruce and the band played Bowie’s hit “Rebel Rebel” and I thought the house was going to come down.

I honestly had some tears in my eyes as I watched this one legend salute another in such a proper and fitting way. I was a huge Bowie fan, all the way back to the Ziggy Stardust days, and “Panic In Detroit” is on one of my go-to playlists for long flights. It was a very special and emotional moment in a very special and emotional show. Sadly, just a few nights later in Chicago, Bruce had to do this same sort of thing again, playing an acoustic version of “Take It Easy” to say goodbye to Glenn Frey. We are simply losing too many great artists in too short a period of time.

When the show was nearly complete and it was time for the encore, they brought the houselights up to full and illuminated the whole rollicking place, allowing Bruce and the band to rip through “Born To Run” with something close to religious fervor. Once again, the word is “amazing.”

And for the record (pun intended) and coming from this self-admitted music dweeb, “Born To Run” simply has to rate as one of the all-time greatest rock songs ever recorded. Period. It’s a masterpiece, and boy does it bring the house to a fevered pitch, myself very much included. There’s no doubt that I “get” that. Epic describes it.

And guess what. In late February we’ll be meeting Tim and Kelly in the Twin Cities and we’ll see this show again, at Xcel Energy Center. Funny how the word “energy” is once again involved. There will be plenty of it on display, I guarantee it.

We flew back on Monday morning and the only downside to the whole trip was the fact Barb came down with a head & chest thing that really knocked her for a loop. I just about thought I was getting away free, but on the flight home Monday I could feel those germs attacking me, minute by minute. I never got it nearly as badly as she did, but we’ve both been plenty miserable all week. Achoo!  Cough!  Hack!  Ouch!

So what else do we have? Well, there’s that book thing I’m tackling! Being sick as a writer is one thing, but having a plague like this nasty deal is a legitimate cause for a delay. As my editor Greg Halling said “You might as well take the week off from writing. If you’re feeling that crappy you’ll probably hate what you wrote and completely do it over again, so just get some rest.” I agreed.

We did have a good update phone call last night, talking about the editing process and how he’s approaching it and being a valued part of this endeavor. Working with a guy as professional and talented as Greg means I have an editor in my corner who has my back. He sees the the big picture and he sees it from a journalistic angle, plus he also spots where I tend to veer off course from time to time (hard to believe, I know). It cracked me up (and should crack many of you up) when he wrote me after looking at the first couple of chapters and he said “You like to stack a lot of adjectives and you sure like to use parentheses!” (Really?)  He’s right, of course, and after he gets into my work and he shines up some of the crazy parts, it’s the old “palm to the forehead” for me as I think “Well, yeah. Duh! Why didn’t I write it that way in the first place?”

That’s what you call a good synergy and it’s why I asked Greg to be my editor on this project. It’s a fantastic thing, and it’s all going to make me a better writer. I’ve always looked for good mentoring, and I have no idea where I’d be without Phil Burgess steering me ever so gently for so many years. Greg is the latest to make such a big impact.

As for the Kickstarter campaign, we’re really getting down to the nitty gritty now. Just 10 days to go and we’re at 83% of the goal, We’re so close to the target I can almost see it from here, but we have to finish strong and not let up. If you dig my writing and want this book to be a reality, I hope you’ll consider joining in at any level. And if you can continue to spread the word, that’s fantastic as well.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/2085148939/bob-wilber-bats-balls-and-burnouts?ref=nav_search

So, here we go. Thanks for all your help and thanks for all of the support. We can do this, and I’m confident we will. See you next week!

Bob Wilber, at your service