Touching Bruce Springsteen.
March 26th 2013, from that moment on nothing would ever be the same...Ever!
I have been waiting for Bruce Springsteen to come out to Australia for years. There were whisperings and lots of here say to when that would be, and finally in 2013 would see The Boss return after a 10year hiatus from our shores.
It would also see many a Bruce Springsteen fan come out of the wood work, sporting thread bare t'shirts and bandanna's. I knew it would be something to behold and I almost contemplated going into some form of pre mosh pit fitness training (Oh how I wished I had) Because as far as performance based shows, it was the best I had ever seen. I fear now I have witnessed Bruce and the E street band that nothing else can possibly compare. If having heard the hype of the Australian tour you will know that Springsteen's presence at 63 is nothing short of spectacular, his energy, endurance puts most performer's to shame. His non stop enthusiasm for 3 non stop hour stints is incredible. His generosity towards his fans is what had me lining up for 12hr stretch to get pole position in the pit. As I slouched next to a tree basking in the shadow of a warm Melbourne day at Rod Laver Arena I yawned and turned to my sister in law Lulla.
"There is only one person in this world who could make me wait in a line for 12hours."
And that was the general consensus, I thought I was a pretty obsessive fan but I soon learned I was no where near the level of the big guns. Some having lined up for every single Australian performance and others coming as far from following Brucey around the States. I was truly a novice and my little line up seemed like nothing compared to some fans in Europe who would camp out for 5 days at the chance to be within Bruce Springsteen sweat.
For two weeks I had joked with family and friends that I didn't need to be dragged up on stage to dance in the dark circa Courtney Cox (Although how freakin amazing would that be??) But I was not greedy if I was within sweating distance I would be a happy girl. AND I was! My hours of dedication paid off as I pegged myself second row in the pit, not too shabby considering I was number 69 in line.
The build up was intense and there were even some mosh pit bickering over positions which could be expected as we were all tired and excited for 8o'clock to roll around. But on the whole it was a well behaved gathering of hardcore fans in close quarters.
(Me! On the far left nestled in the armpit of a stranger)
A verteran in the front row, a sliver haired lady turned to me and my sister in law offering words of wisdom (We obviously reeked of being Bruce Springsteen newbies)
"Hold your ground girls! Spread your legs!." She cried as if we were about to depart for war. Maybe we were?
My sister in law and I looked at each other wide eyed in horror. What had I done? I suddenly felt claustrophobic, thirsty, hot. I had made a terrible decision.
"There going to push forward, so be prepared to hold your ground." Chanted the silver haired veteran.
Oh my God! We were going to be killed. I looked over my shoulder to spot a seven foot giant of a man. Surely he wouldn't need to push forward, we were only little, they had it made.
Still we spread our legs into war stance bracing ourselves against what was to come. As I tried not to think about how we were all squished together like sardines, I was momentarily distracted to search for my brother and sister in law who were also General Admission for tonight. I connected with them several rows back and managed to offer a small wave when they saw me. I felt my phone vibrate in my thatchel, a message presenting from my sister in law Leanne.
"Your within sweating distance!" It read.
Yes. Yes I was.
the half hour that followed waiting rather anxiously, rather uncomfortably was probably the longest all day. It was only when the house lights went up momentarily blinding us did opening song speculation mutterings seep through the hard core fans did things start to really, really become real.
Before we knew it ban members one by one filtered up from below raging from the least known to the the main players as a way of building even more excitement (if that was possible) finally as we all knew the very last player was to hit the stage and once Bruce Springsteen trotted up the staircase and onto the stage, I was filled with an immense feeling of awe from seeing him in the flesh, standing right in front of me. I had wondered if such hype over the last two weeks would ultimately fill me with disappointment. Not a chance, he looked amazing.
And as Bruce chanted "Melbourne Bums of seats." the crowd who had by this point completely lost all sanity by merely being in his presence. Hands lifted to fist pump and as Bruce unapologeticlly began to belt out Badlands. With unified passion the pit jumped and fist pumped the sky, it was an ecstatic rush that had all memories of line waiting or claustrophobia melt away as our eyes locked on the man before us.
He was so close I could touch him, and I DID! From that moment on I could die happy I had touched Bruce Springsteen! It didn't matter if I wasn't the chosen one to be dragged up on stage and dance Courtney Cox style, believe me after 3 hours in the mosh pit I couldn't help but be relieved. Sweaty, frizzy hair, panda eyes being dragged up on stage infront of thousands of people, highlighted by the bug screen, it would not have been a good look. I know this as a fact as I stumbelled back to my hotel room after the concert, taking in my reflection in the elevators mirrors I turned to Lulla.
"Jesus! No wonder he didn't pick me."
I looked like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards, run over with a steam roller and marched over by marching band...which was not too far from the truth, the E Street band were phenomenal.
Highlights:
The moment he walked out onto the stage, so surreal.
The opening number of Badlands lifted the roof off, I will never forget it.
Bruce crowd surfing.
Bruce wearing a hat from the audience singing 'Spirit in the Night.'
'Beacuase the night.'
The E Street band with special addition of Tom Morello magic.
The Ghost of Tom Joad and incredible performance by Tom Morello.
Being within sweating distance, quite literally! I drop of Springsteen sweat landed in my eyeball and although it burned like mad it was SO worth it.
Bruce had a wet sponge he would wipe his face with to keep cool, towards the end he dipped he showered the audience to cool us down.
Low lights:
12 hours worth of roll calls made for a long expensive day with Taxi fairs combined BUT it could have been worse as we did get 3 hour reprieves in between and once you saw Bruce the poll position in the pit made it all worth while.
Mosh pit politics. By the time you're in the mosh pit everyone is anxious and tired from a full day of roll calls, the last half hour before showtime has people plotting and scheming to get just that little bit closer, there were a few mosh pit arguments.
Water, or actually lack there of. We weren't allowed to keep the lids on our drink bottles at a guess that we wouldn't use them a missiles, although I would think you could do more damage with an empty drink container, but hey. As if anyone would dare do that to the Boss? Because of that I decided to ditch my water before I went in. I didn't think jumping up and down with a full bottle of water without a lid would be a good idea. BIG mistake, HUGE! By the second song in it was as if all the moisture had been sucked out of the room and I had serious cotton mouth, it made for a very uncomfortable 3 hours and I actually think I suffered dehydration because of it. Imagine my relief when Bruce rung his wet sponge on top of me, it was as if I had been blessed by Bruce himself. Lesson learned!!
Aftermath. I was broken, I had my ass handed to me in a hand basket by 63year old rocker. Lulla and I were in so much pain and dying of thirst we clawed our way into a 7/11 to grab a drink. I thought I might burst into tears seeing the line up at the cab rank my legs were on fire. I had no voice, I was deaf and could hardly walk it took me a week to recover from the aches and pains and even a month after I am still sick with a cough I picked up and can't seem to shake. I even passed on my sickness to my husband so Bruce Springsteen's name is mud in our house at the moment, but more so from my endless gushing and playing his music over and over again while we cook dinner.
Regret. In hindsight I wished I had of gone to more than one show (even though I would most certainly of been killed) But no two Bruce Springsteen shows are alike and having had a taste I fear all other concerts will never live up to the likes of Bruce and the E Street band.
Overall an experience I will never forget. I would even go as far as to plan any future holiday destination based solely on wherever Bruce Springsteen is performing just like the die hard fans do, I get it I really do because seriously, he is just that bloody good.
I have been waiting for Bruce Springsteen to come out to Australia for years. There were whisperings and lots of here say to when that would be, and finally in 2013 would see The Boss return after a 10year hiatus from our shores.
It would also see many a Bruce Springsteen fan come out of the wood work, sporting thread bare t'shirts and bandanna's. I knew it would be something to behold and I almost contemplated going into some form of pre mosh pit fitness training (Oh how I wished I had) Because as far as performance based shows, it was the best I had ever seen. I fear now I have witnessed Bruce and the E street band that nothing else can possibly compare. If having heard the hype of the Australian tour you will know that Springsteen's presence at 63 is nothing short of spectacular, his energy, endurance puts most performer's to shame. His non stop enthusiasm for 3 non stop hour stints is incredible. His generosity towards his fans is what had me lining up for 12hr stretch to get pole position in the pit. As I slouched next to a tree basking in the shadow of a warm Melbourne day at Rod Laver Arena I yawned and turned to my sister in law Lulla.
"There is only one person in this world who could make me wait in a line for 12hours."
And that was the general consensus, I thought I was a pretty obsessive fan but I soon learned I was no where near the level of the big guns. Some having lined up for every single Australian performance and others coming as far from following Brucey around the States. I was truly a novice and my little line up seemed like nothing compared to some fans in Europe who would camp out for 5 days at the chance to be within Bruce Springsteen sweat.
For two weeks I had joked with family and friends that I didn't need to be dragged up on stage to dance in the dark circa Courtney Cox (Although how freakin amazing would that be??) But I was not greedy if I was within sweating distance I would be a happy girl. AND I was! My hours of dedication paid off as I pegged myself second row in the pit, not too shabby considering I was number 69 in line.
The build up was intense and there were even some mosh pit bickering over positions which could be expected as we were all tired and excited for 8o'clock to roll around. But on the whole it was a well behaved gathering of hardcore fans in close quarters.
(Me! On the far left nestled in the armpit of a stranger)
A verteran in the front row, a sliver haired lady turned to me and my sister in law offering words of wisdom (We obviously reeked of being Bruce Springsteen newbies)
"Hold your ground girls! Spread your legs!." She cried as if we were about to depart for war. Maybe we were?
My sister in law and I looked at each other wide eyed in horror. What had I done? I suddenly felt claustrophobic, thirsty, hot. I had made a terrible decision.
"There going to push forward, so be prepared to hold your ground." Chanted the silver haired veteran.
Oh my God! We were going to be killed. I looked over my shoulder to spot a seven foot giant of a man. Surely he wouldn't need to push forward, we were only little, they had it made.
Still we spread our legs into war stance bracing ourselves against what was to come. As I tried not to think about how we were all squished together like sardines, I was momentarily distracted to search for my brother and sister in law who were also General Admission for tonight. I connected with them several rows back and managed to offer a small wave when they saw me. I felt my phone vibrate in my thatchel, a message presenting from my sister in law Leanne.
"Your within sweating distance!" It read.
Yes. Yes I was.
the half hour that followed waiting rather anxiously, rather uncomfortably was probably the longest all day. It was only when the house lights went up momentarily blinding us did opening song speculation mutterings seep through the hard core fans did things start to really, really become real.
Before we knew it ban members one by one filtered up from below raging from the least known to the the main players as a way of building even more excitement (if that was possible) finally as we all knew the very last player was to hit the stage and once Bruce Springsteen trotted up the staircase and onto the stage, I was filled with an immense feeling of awe from seeing him in the flesh, standing right in front of me. I had wondered if such hype over the last two weeks would ultimately fill me with disappointment. Not a chance, he looked amazing.
And as Bruce chanted "Melbourne Bums of seats." the crowd who had by this point completely lost all sanity by merely being in his presence. Hands lifted to fist pump and as Bruce unapologeticlly began to belt out Badlands. With unified passion the pit jumped and fist pumped the sky, it was an ecstatic rush that had all memories of line waiting or claustrophobia melt away as our eyes locked on the man before us.
He was so close I could touch him, and I DID! From that moment on I could die happy I had touched Bruce Springsteen! It didn't matter if I wasn't the chosen one to be dragged up on stage and dance Courtney Cox style, believe me after 3 hours in the mosh pit I couldn't help but be relieved. Sweaty, frizzy hair, panda eyes being dragged up on stage infront of thousands of people, highlighted by the bug screen, it would not have been a good look. I know this as a fact as I stumbelled back to my hotel room after the concert, taking in my reflection in the elevators mirrors I turned to Lulla.
"Jesus! No wonder he didn't pick me."
I looked like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards, run over with a steam roller and marched over by marching band...which was not too far from the truth, the E Street band were phenomenal.
Highlights:
The moment he walked out onto the stage, so surreal.
The opening number of Badlands lifted the roof off, I will never forget it.
Bruce crowd surfing.
Bruce wearing a hat from the audience singing 'Spirit in the Night.'
'Beacuase the night.'
The E Street band with special addition of Tom Morello magic.
The Ghost of Tom Joad and incredible performance by Tom Morello.
Being within sweating distance, quite literally! I drop of Springsteen sweat landed in my eyeball and although it burned like mad it was SO worth it.
Bruce had a wet sponge he would wipe his face with to keep cool, towards the end he dipped he showered the audience to cool us down.
Low lights:
12 hours worth of roll calls made for a long expensive day with Taxi fairs combined BUT it could have been worse as we did get 3 hour reprieves in between and once you saw Bruce the poll position in the pit made it all worth while.
Mosh pit politics. By the time you're in the mosh pit everyone is anxious and tired from a full day of roll calls, the last half hour before showtime has people plotting and scheming to get just that little bit closer, there were a few mosh pit arguments.
Water, or actually lack there of. We weren't allowed to keep the lids on our drink bottles at a guess that we wouldn't use them a missiles, although I would think you could do more damage with an empty drink container, but hey. As if anyone would dare do that to the Boss? Because of that I decided to ditch my water before I went in. I didn't think jumping up and down with a full bottle of water without a lid would be a good idea. BIG mistake, HUGE! By the second song in it was as if all the moisture had been sucked out of the room and I had serious cotton mouth, it made for a very uncomfortable 3 hours and I actually think I suffered dehydration because of it. Imagine my relief when Bruce rung his wet sponge on top of me, it was as if I had been blessed by Bruce himself. Lesson learned!!
Aftermath. I was broken, I had my ass handed to me in a hand basket by 63year old rocker. Lulla and I were in so much pain and dying of thirst we clawed our way into a 7/11 to grab a drink. I thought I might burst into tears seeing the line up at the cab rank my legs were on fire. I had no voice, I was deaf and could hardly walk it took me a week to recover from the aches and pains and even a month after I am still sick with a cough I picked up and can't seem to shake. I even passed on my sickness to my husband so Bruce Springsteen's name is mud in our house at the moment, but more so from my endless gushing and playing his music over and over again while we cook dinner.
Regret. In hindsight I wished I had of gone to more than one show (even though I would most certainly of been killed) But no two Bruce Springsteen shows are alike and having had a taste I fear all other concerts will never live up to the likes of Bruce and the E Street band.
Overall an experience I will never forget. I would even go as far as to plan any future holiday destination based solely on wherever Bruce Springsteen is performing just like the die hard fans do, I get it I really do because seriously, he is just that bloody good.
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