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528 pages, Hardcover
First published September 27, 2016
"June 1, 1985, Slane Castle, Dublin, Ireland (Slane is NOT in Dublin, Bruce), our first stadium show ever ... Slane joined a rising number of our other performances to attain "legendary" status and, despite my distraction, turned out to be a solid show. On the streets of Dublin, it is often mentioned that if you were there, you were there. I was certainly there."
"That was it. It was all I needed, all that was necessary. I was blessed on that day and given something by my father I thought I'd never live to see ..."
"Writing about yourself is a funny business. At the end of the day it's just another story, the story you've chosen about the events in your life. I haven't told you "all" about myself. Discretion and the feelings of others don't allow it."
“He is a literate, artful, and even urbane writer (there is no way this book is ghosted) who has reaped the sorts of insights you get from more than three decades in therapy. He is still tortured and haunted, but he has gotten himself more or less together. The journey from obscurity to rock-and-roll fantasy is not as important in this book as the internal journey from anxious urgency to some sort of self-forgiving peace.”
"There was one thing I was sure of: it was going to be Patti and me for life, until the wheels come off."
"Independence Day"
Well Papa go to bed now it's getting late
Nothing we can say is gonna change anything now
I'll be leaving in the morning from St. Mary's Gate
We wouldn't change this thing even if we could somehow
Cause the darkness of this house has got the best of us
There's a darkness in this town that's got us too
But they can't touch me now
And you can't touch me now
They ain't gonna do to me
What I watched them do to you
So say goodbye it's Independence Day
It's Independence Day
All down the line
Just say goodbye it's Independence Day
It's Independence Day this time
Now I don't know what it always was with us
We chose the words, and yeah, we drew the lines
There was just no way this house could hold the two of us
I guess that we were just too much of the same kind
Well say goodbye it's Independence Day
It's Independence Day all boys must run away
So say goodbye it's Independence Day
All men must make their way come Independence Day
Now the rooms are all empty down at Frankie's joint
And the highway she's deserted clear down to Breaker's Point
There's a lot of people leaving town now
leaving their friends, their homes
At night they walk that dark and dusty highway all alone
Well Papa go to bed now, it's getting late
Nothing we can say can change anything now
Because there's just different people coming down here now and they see things in different ways
And soon everything we've known will just be swept away
So say goodbye it's Independence Day
Papa now I know the things you wanted that you could not say
But won't you just say goodbye it's Independence Day
I swear I never meant to take those things away
This memoir is fairly in-depth - featuring over 500 pages covering Springsteen's childhood to present day. Every time dates or big world-events were mentioned, I was taken aback. It's a weird duality - because I listened to his music in the mid 90s, I made the assumption throughout my childhood that the music was made in the mid 90s.
Figure 1: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band circa 1977. To be perfectly honest, I only know which one is Springsteen because he's in the center. (I was FOUR okay) (I also always thought it was the East Street Band...)
Unlike many memoirs of the famous, he does more than just name-dropping and humble-bragging. When he spoke about the early stages of his career, Springsteen cited the typical motivations of the times - Presley and the Beatles - but he gave far more page space to the real people (friends and folks around his hometown). He gave credit to everyone - especially to his mother who scrimped and saved to buy him his first guitar.
Figure 2. Bruce Springsteen in the 80s. I guess he really is that old
We proceeded as follows:They proceeded to:
Step 1. Make a mess out of your forms. Like them know they're trying to corral a drug-addicted gay patholically bed-wetting lunatic who can barely write his name into the US military.
Step 2. Make them believe it.
Act the mumbling, bumbling swishing don't give a fuck about orders freak. On STP, LSD and anything else you can get your hands on. A hippie outcast destroyer of troop moral, corroder of discipline, much more trouble than you're worth. Get the fuck out of here joke of a recruit.He used his time saved from the military to launch his music career - though he did hit quite a few rough patches. From botched contracts to flighty band members, he's seen it all. But throughout his career, he had one, singular goal:
I wanted to craft a record that sounded like the last record on earth. Like the last record you might hear. The last one you'd ever need to hear. One glorious noise, then the apocalypse.And to me, he's achieved it.