Yes, yes, dear regular readers. Did you think I was going to allow the Boss to visit Boston and not go see him and the boys (and girls?) Silly you. But this won’t be a review as such. Reviewing a Springsteen show is like reviewing a magnificent work of art. It’s always magnificent. All you can do is give your spin on the…

“…heart-stopping, pants-dropping, earth-shocking, hard rocking, booty-shaking, earth-quaking, love-making, Viagra-taking, history-making, legendary E! Street! Band! 

To begin with, I almost didn’t make the show. Say what? Well, I’d been kinda sick for the proceeding couple of days and the night before the show I had pretty much given up any hope of walking around Boston on a cold night and not wheezing.

In fact, i had – heresy! – put the tix up for sale on TicketBastard, Craigslist and advertised them on Twitter. (I reinstaetd my Twitter account under Elon Jerkoff just long enough to do that.)

By the grace of the Hammer of the Gods, no one responded till mid-day of the show. “Still available?” he asked. “No,” I lied. Because while I wasn’t feeling 100% I was feeling better and, well, The Show Must Go On.

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We (my wife is every bit the Springsteen fan as I am) grabbed a bite at a food court downstaris from TD Garden. You know the place – not enough seats, burgers that take 6 hours to make, overpriced. After we got inside and stood in line for a six-dollar bottle of water, we got into the Garden about 15 minutes before the advertised 7:30 start time. Which of course, meant 7:50 in Show Biz Time.

I had gotten floor seats because having seen Roger Waters I knew they were your best bet. They weren’t too bad either as you’ll see in my shitty videos. At least I wasn’t one of these poor sons of bitches way up on the right almost behind the stage. I happen know those tix will run you at least $300 (278 Euros).

Since I am going to discuss ticket prices in an upcoming post, I am going to do something I never do which is tell you what I paid. For two tickets about 25 rows from the stage I paid about $900 (835 Euro).

Was it worth it? If you paid a ton of dough to go to, say, the Grand Canyon or the Taj Mahal did you come home and say, Well that was a fuckload of money? Maybe you did. But the experience stayed with you. (My next post will be about the chain of greed that led to this situation).

The band (19 people strong) entered one by one and when The Boss came on the room instantly lustily filled with boos! Were people booing Bruce because he charged so much? Relax, I’ve seen the guy ten times since 1977*. I’m just fucking with you.**

This show was leaner and meaner than any I’ve ever seen from Bruce and the gang. By that I mean shorter (2:50 vs 4:02 last time he was in town.) And fewer stories from Bruce about his old man and the friction between them. No signs from the crowed asking to hear, say, “Thundercrack.” And mysteriously, zero merch for sale. There’s a lost opportunity.

The first tune was “No Surrender” from Born in the USA and then “Ghosts” from Letter To You. Both sounded great but for me an inauspicous beginning as the first tune doesn’t grab me, the second I hadn’t heard. (Bear in mind when I saw him 2016 he started out with 10 of his first 11 songs being from his first two albums. Which is where I came in. Pretty sure I got an erection.)

The first tune that grabbed me was the always reliable “Prove it All Night” wherein the Bruce and Steve Van Zandt usually exchange wicked solos. Except tonight they didn’t. In fact, Van Zandt seemed a little removed all night. I wonder if he was the one who had the recent illness. Neverthess, Bruce got off some great solos from his patented “I am wrenching those fucking notes out of ths box of wood and wires” technique:

After he had whipped the frenzied, frothing-at-the-mouth Beantown crowd into a frenzy, the band took on “Letter To You,” “Promised Land,” “Out in the Street,” and “Candy’s Room.”

And then, the greatest Springsteen song of all time except for all the others, “Kitty’s Back.” And this about when I realized Bruce had not just a horn (sax) but a fucking horn section. (Plus backup singers, violin.) In addition to the Big Man’s nephew Jake, there were four (count ’em) horns – tenor sax, trombone and two trumpets! I wouldn’t have been surpised (or even displeased) if they did a Chicago tune.

Bruce and the band whipped off a credible cover of “Nightshift,” a song he likes a whole lot better than I do. Then it was on to the great Jimmy Cliff cover “Trapped,” “The E Street Shuffle,” (everybody form a line), and then- from Nebraska, “Johnny 99.”

Now Springsteenologists will tell remind you that Nebraska was a solo acoustic album of demos that Bruce couldn’t figure out how to beef up with the band. I guess they figured it out. From Kansas City where, sources advise, they got a lotta pretty women: