Greetings from East Rutherford, N.J.

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Through my good friend Myron—he's very, very, very good friend, obviously—I got tickets for Monday July 28's Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band show at Giants Stadium, and my first thought was “I have to blog about this.” Actually, that was about my 253rd thought, after, “I wonder if he’ll play ‘Blinded By The Light’”, “I wonder if he’ll play ‘For You’”, and so on for each song Bruce has ever put on an album. But I did think it, eventually, which is why you’re reading this right now. (That and you must be really, really bored to come to this little corner of the internet.) But let's move on, shall we?

We went in a group of four: me, Myron, and two other big Springsteen fans, Spartan and MissCulver. Myron's got important friends all over the place—he doesn't limit his celebrity interaction to hanging with the writers at BIBTTP—and he managed to get us backstage passes. We walked backstage before the show, and within five minutes we were in conversation with Jon Landau. Yes, that Jon Landau, of whom Spartan has said, “If there were no Jon Landau, there would be no Bruce Springsteen,” a sentiment oft-echoed by those paid to discern such things. It was a Landau review of a Springsteen show in The Real Paper that catapulted Springsteen to national consciousness; it was Landau's advice that convinced Springsteen to produce Born to Run, his finest album to date; and it is Landau who has brilliantly managed the Boss' career for the last three decades. This man was a rock legend, and here he was cracking jokes with me and my friends. Needless to say, I didn't have the balls to ask him if the rumors about Tracks II—a compilation completing the work of 1998’s Tracks, which contained 64 previously unreleased Springsteen recordings—were true. Sorry guys.

After hobnobbing with a couple other cool people (none as cool as Landau, but that's a pretty high standard) we made our way to our seats, which were located in Section 1. Let's just say they call it Section 1 for a reason. This Myron, he's a pretty good guy. Have I said it before? Maybe I should say it again.

This was the second of three shows Bruce is playing in his home state of New Jersey, and after the previous night's instantly legendary performance—29 songs, three and a half hours, and just about every classic you could want—we had high expectations. While they were certainly met—Springsteen never leaves you disappointed—I'd confess they weren't met they same way I expected them to be. Sunday's show, as I said, was filled with classics: he opened with ‘Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out’; play epics like ‘Youngstown’, sweet duets like ‘Brilliant Disguise’, hard rockers like ‘Murder Incorporated’, and mega-inspiring ‘Growin' Up’; 16 other great songs; and “closed” with the rocking ‘Badlands’. Of course, Springsteen wasn't done, and the band came back out to play ‘Girls in Their Summer Clothes’ off the new Magic album followed by possibly the greatest six song combination any Bruce fan has ever dreamed of. ‘Jungleland’, ‘Born To Run’, ‘Bobby Jean’, ‘Dancing in The Dark’, ‘American Land’, and ‘Rosalita’. Any one of those songs is worth the price of admission, and six in a row… Wow. It really was the one we'd all been waiting for. Now, I’d didn’t see that concert. (Which absolutely kills me, because I found tickets on craigslist for a reasonable price, but my mom wouldn't let me drive eight hours round-trip to the show on two straight days. Jerk.)

But I still saw a very good performance, obviously. While I’d say the first night was a “thank you” to the fans for their years of love and support, the second night was more a celebration of family, of friends, of the great state of New Jersey. It wasn't what I was expecting, but it was a hell of a lot of fun.

Highlights included:

· Bruce leading a rousing rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ for his wife (and bandmate) Patti Scialfa, who turned 55 the next day.
· The teen daughters of Springsteen and bassist Garry W. Tallent and their friends dancing out on stage to finale ‘Twist & Shout’.
· A little boy in about the fifth row had a huge sign that said: “First Show. Age 7. Harmonica Please?” and after Bruce finished wailing on ‘No Surrender,’ he walked out in the crowd and gave his harmonica to him.
· Bruce stepped to the edge of the crowd and had several sing-alongs with little kids on their parents' shoulders, putting the microphone to them for key lyrics. They all came through.
· Bruce moved into the standing-room only section for ‘Hungry Heart,’ dancing with a teenager, and turning and yelling to Patti back on stage “this is my new girl!”
· For ‘Born to Run,’ drummer Mighty Max Weinberg—yes, like the Max Weinberg 7 Max Weinberg—stepped out, and his son Jay took his place at the drums and absolutely blew the doors off. Max could be seen watching proudly from the side of the stage.
· Playing ‘Drive All Night,’ a slow and moving love song, for only the second time in the last 25 years.
· Playing ‘Held Up Without A Gun,’ a short fun little song--Bruce dedicated it “to everyone who had to pay for gas to drive the concert”--for only the third time ever.
· As Bruce began ‘Because the Night,’ Myron leaned over to me and said “Nils (E Street's tiny guitarist) usually plays a sweet solo in this song.” It didn't look like anything of the sort of going to happen, as Bruce began the song as the only one light on stage lit up, singing with minimal accompaniment. But as the song gathered steam, the focus soon shifted to Nils, who was rocking the fuck out. He fired through the solo, he clearly feeding off the crowd's energy, and he began spinning himself in a circle. Finally, he ran clear across the stage and turned a front somersault, playing all the while. Hamazing.
· ‘It's Hard to Be A Saint In The City’. This one is so freaking cool, because it almost didn't happen. See, Bruce has always been very fluid with the set list—Myron has relayed to me that the E Street performers don't see the list of songs until right before they go on—but in March or so, he got even more extreme, and began moving out into the crowd, grabbing signs that requested songs, and getting the band to play it next. That night, one of the signs he grabbed was kind of hard to read from the audience—it had a bunch of songs listed, and he was only going to pick one—but he showed it to the band and announced “we’re going to do it in 'A'.” There was immediate confusion on stage, as Bruce told his bandmates, “I know it’s supposed to be in 'C', but we’re going to try it in 'A'.” At this point, nobody one in the crowd had any idea what song it was going to be, and after Bruce stumbled through a bit of an introduction by himself, we still didn't know what was going on, and became a little worried. He stopped for a second, said to himself, “How does it go again?” and restarted. This time, there were no mistakes. ‘It’s Hard to Be A Saint in The City,’ a track off debut album Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J. rang out loud and clear, and as he strut down the street… well, for the next six minutes, in that arena of 50,000 people, it was just me and Bruce.

Really, though, I can't do the man justice. Compared to some of the fans out there--fans who saw him at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park back in the late 70's (like Spartan) or the people who saw 10 straight shows at Giants Stadium in 2003 or the countless masses that follow him across the whole country and over to Europe--I'm a huge neophyte. The best line I’ve heard was from a friend of Myron’s who’s seen over 150 concerts, when he was asked (by someone who’d never seen Bruce perform before, obviously) if he ever got tired of it. “Are you kidding me?” he replied. “There’s nothing more energizing than this.”