My memory is a bit cloudy since this all took place 40 years ago, but here’s what I do remember.
On a January day in 1981, I was in a high school biology class at Parkway West, and I happened to mention something about a Bruce Springsteen concert that was just weeks away.
Back in that winter of 1981, even though Bruce was coming off a string of successful records, he and the E Street Band were embarking on their first arena tour. They had stopped at Kiel Auditorium in St. Louis in October, just a few months earlier, and their new album - The River - had dropped that same month.
I played football for the Longhorns my sophomore year, and got to know one of the big men on campus - Dirk Elsperman. That day in biology, when I mentioned the concert to Elsperman, he responded, “Hey, my sister loves that guy and I do too.”
The die was cast. Soon after, we bought a pair of tickets in section 110 of Arena Circle. They cost $11.50 a piece. It would be my first real concert. I think I had seen Cheap Trick outdoors at something called Chicagofest. But that event was a cheap rip-off of one of the best music festivals on the planet - Summerfest in Milwaukee.
This was no festival; this was Springsteen in concert.
My 16th birthday was just months away, and actually so was my start in radio. But I had no idea what to expect from the concert. I only recently had become infatuated with Springsteen’s music. I didn’t have a lot of friends back then. My dad took me to a Peaches Records store one day and told me to pick out any album I wanted.
Determined to always squeeze as much out of mom and dad as possible, I hit him up for a double LP - two discs in one! - aka The River by this dude named Springsteen. A month later around Christmas time, Santa brought me another Springsteen record, Darkness, and subsequently I bought another, Born to Run.
The music spoke to me. I don’t know why, but it did. I couldn’t stop listening. And despite the widespread reputation of this rocker from New Jersey, I had no idea what I was really getting into when we attended his concert.
I soon found out…with the first chords struck that night, Jan. 28, 1981.
With the house lights down, with the members uniformly dressed in black suits, white shirts and loose ties, the band erupted chords into the song Night, from the Born To Run album. Then came a ferocious transition into The Promised Land, then Tenth Avenue Freeze Out. And in between the spine-tingling songs came the resounding, raucous chorus from the crowd - “Booooo!…Booooo!.”
I was confused. What was going on? The music, the spectacle…it was incredible. But they were booing? Really?
Aha! Then it hit me. They weren’t chanting boos. They were chanting “Bruuuuuce!” Dirk and I sat there in amazement. Seemingly everyone in this crowd of some 10,000 knew the drill, and knew every word of every song.
The pace never let up. Bruce stalked back and forth across the stage like a caged lion. At times dripping with sweat, he scaled the stacks of speakers in one moment, climbed into front-row seats in another or stood on top of a chair to belt out more lyrics.
In between, he told stories about growing up and the struggles he had with his father. He joked, he laughed, he rocked and he kicked ass. Meanwhile, the band just kept going … and going … and going. With only one brief intermission, Bruce and his E Street Band poured every ounce of rock and roll energy and spirit they had into FOUR hours!.
The encore alone - featuring Rosalita, I’m a Rocker and Jungeland - had to last 40 minutes. Then the house lights went up, signaling the show had ended. But the show wasn’t over. Not even close.
With the lights blaring and every single person in that legendary old Checkerdome waving their hands, pumping their fists and singing along, the band launched into its anthem - Born to Run. The song, the concert, the entire experience left us breathless.
For me, it was just a start. I had a pretty good appreciation for the power of music and rock and roll before that night. But afterward, there was no turning back. It wasn’t just a concert I attended, it was a spiritual re-birth at the age of just 15.
Inspirational, motivational, mind-blowing, overwhelming, intoxicating … Magical.
I know that a lot of people don’t get it….they don’t connect or understand the special connection that exists between Bruce Springsteen, the E Street Band and the millions of junkies like me.
Since that very fist Springsteen show I’ve been to dozens and dozens more. Chicago, KC, Boston, New York, New Jersey, Detroit, Nashville, Dallas…the list goes on. And if we can get out of this pandemic, and the E Street band hits the road again, it will continue to grow.
I’ve got to catch a show overseas. Barcelona…Rome…Wherever…it’s on the bucket list.
A few years after that first Springsteen show, I was a freshman at Mizzou and had to write a “first experience” paper for an English class. I wrote about that incredible, life-changing night in January, 1981. And in that paper, I made a commitment, writing, “One day I’m going to meet Bruce Springsteen and tell him how much his music and legendary concert performance meant to me as a lonely, sort of depressed teenager.”
Eventually, I fulfilled that promise to myself. But I’ll save that story for another day.