"I'm Bad. I'm Nationwide."

Yesterday, I posted an album review I wrote in 1984 for Backstage Pass on the Bruce Springsteen album, Born in the USA. Today I am posting the concert review for the same album. It has been a long time since I wrote these reviews but I wanted to post them for two reasons. The first reason has to do with a conversation I had with a coworker on Springsteen's music. The second reason is Springsteen's recent acceptance of the Kennedy Center Award, and the reception he received that night.

It was an interesting time in my life and it was nice to have these two motivations for me to go back and look at what I had written all those years ago. And to remember those experiences.

Bruce Springsteen: “I’m Nationwide”
… the sense of celebration hasn’t changed, only more of it.

By Chris Bogart


Two nights after his ten sold out performances in New Jersey’s Brendan Byrne Arena, Bruce Springsteen returned to where he had started, The Stone Pony, an Asbury Park boardwalk bar. He stood in the corner, his body (now quite strong from working out) shifted back and forth as his feet kept time with the music. He seemed calm as his eyes gazed at the bandstand while the strains of Creedance Clearwater Revival’s Travelin’ Band filled the room. “They don’t write music like that anymore,” he said.

Around him, young people milled. Some identified him and whispered “Bruce is here,” while others accepted his presence quietly and respected his privacy. But the anticipation that maybe, just maybe, he would sing was everywhere. He remained at the bar, actively involved in conversation that ranged from cars to music to the local happenings which he handled as a true resident. He listened, too, to comic stories and responded with his distinctly guttural chuckle and his famous grin. Always the storyteller, Springsteen told of how he was locked out of his home, a tale of comic opera proportions, to the amusement of those around him. But the gentle, yet inevitable, request for autographs raised a humorous “Oh, no.” from Bruce. “I’d better change positions quickly.”

Three years ago, on a similar hot summer night, Bruce had just finished his six day opening performances at the Byrne arena and returned to his Jersey Shore bar. He was hyper, excited and darting through the crowds to hear the music of a hot local band. His clothes seemed to hang from his tour-weary body but his laughter remained quick and his smile ever-present. He motioned me to the back office where once settled in a folding chair, he reviewed guitar cord structures with a member of the band. He would check to see us watching, only to make a series of comic faces, trying to keep all of us entertained, while he prepared to perform on the small stage with the band. Now, he was a hot ticket and was enjoying every minute of it.

Bruce Springsteen’s 1981 performances in the newly-built New Jersey arena was filled with all the electricity and energy that has become his legend. Time after time, he tossed his hair and the perspiration sprayed out into the light. Song after song, some old and cherished, some new from The River and some borrowed was uniformly met with choruses of “Bruuce, Bruuce,Bruuce.”

Backstage, in 1981, in a small room off the main hall, the singer sat soaked in his own perspiration. But, through the exhausted look on his face, that smile appeared and remained throughout the long night and probable remained long after everyone was gone.

Those with back stage passes gathered in groups outside the room. The air was filled with the low clipped accents of New York and New Jersey. Most were followers and diehard fans dressed in blue jeans and tour tee shirts. Some were musicians, radio personalities or friends. In one doorway, drummer Max Weinberg was introducing his parents to a small gathering. At a buffet table covered in white paper and flanked with trash cans filled with beer, guitarist Steve Van Zandt was attaching a packaged crumb cake. “This is great stuff,” he said. The mood was one of celebration; the singer, the band and the management appeared amazed as they attempted to comprehend a success that appeared larger than life.

Some wondered if a three year absence would have its effect on Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band’s popularity. The 1984 tour with ten shows sold out in 48 hours and the release of his new album Born in the USA hitting number one on the charts coupled with a top ten single, Dancing in the Dark quickly quieted the skeptics. But the real proof came when Bruce Springsteen took center stage at the Brendan Byrne arena for ten nights as the fans in unison seemed to scream “Tell us a story!” And tell them, he did.

With seemingly endless energy, he sang some after song, again some old, some new from both his quiet, introspective album, Nebraska, and his new release, Born in the USA, and some borrowed (The Detroit Medley, Travelin’ Band, Twist and Shout and Do You Love Me comprised his second encore). The effects and lighting were more sophisticated and there were other changes too. Steve Van Zandt had left the band ans has been replaced by Nils Lofgrin and a woman, Patti Scialfa, has joined the boys in the band. But the magic and the sense of celebration hasn’t changed at all, only more of it.

Beginning with the brash anthem like Born in the USA, he sang songs to remember (Thunder Road, Rosalita and Jungleland), songs to think about from Nebraska, songs and skits to laugh (Glory Days and Sherry Darling) and songs to dance to (nearly every one). He spoke of his father and sang Used Cars in tribute to him. He dedicated No Surrender to “Little Steven, wherever you are.” Plus 21 more. “Will you surrender?” he asked his audience. “Nooo,” they replied in ear-shattering unison. And there was no surrender.

Backstage, after his show, the differences between 1981 and 1984 were apparent. Confidence born from success replaced the amazed bewilderment of three years ago. The electricity and excitement was there but the people and atmosphere resembled an impromptu cocktail party rather than a beer bash. Friends and well-wishers were everywhere. Actor Vincent Spano (Baby, It’s You) was truly satisfied that Bruce Springsteen had seen his film that also used some Springsteen music. Rob Lowe (Oxford Blues) related his filming experiences to a group of excited young girls and waited in turn to meet the exhausted singer. The accents, this time around, mixed with the usual clipped accents of the East were the broad sounds of the Midwest, the casual cadence of California and a British accent or two. It seemed that Bruce had arrived.

But two nights later, Bruce Springsteen is back where he started and now, nearly 2:00 a.m., he is preparing to take over the stage at the small club. La Bamba and the Hubcaps (a New Jersey band that also sang backup on the Born in the U.S.A album were ending their last set. The dancing dissipated and the crowd moved closer to the stage. Richie “La Bamba” announced “We have a guest performer” and the crowd reacted with the now infamous “Bruuce.” The stage lights came up on the figure in a wrinkled white tee shirt and blue jeans, who seemed to be saying, “I’ve wanted to do this all night.” Singing Travelin’ Band, he and bass guitarist, Gene Boccia, faced each other as their fingers moved quickly over the frets and the two pounded out relentless melody.

He paused only briefly before beginning his version of ZZ Top’s I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide. Facing the crowd of friends and neighbors, his smile illuminating his face, the created combustion of his union of music, melody and the addition of his own brand of magic resulted in an unspeakable joy in the eyes and face of Bruce Springsteen. The small crowd felt it too. As he repeated the refrain “I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide,” there is no doubt that this singer takes great pride in having never surrendered.

Published in Back Stage Pass, Volume 2, Issue no. 13 (August, ’84)