For their accidental last show of their necessary-for-the-midterms, No Kings-thematic “Land Of Hope And Dreams” tour at the Xfinity Mobile Arena (blame the May 8 Sixers/Knicks playoff game for that switch), E Street Band frontman Bruce Springsteen did just as he’s done on every one of their late-spring dates: Read Trump’s rule the riot act in an angrily passionate, well-deserved take-down of a presidency for profit, a command that offers the American citizenry less freedom than it has ever been afforded.
When Springsteen wasn’t inviting his sold-out crowds to scream loud enough to be heard in the White House, along with some genuinely well-thought-out, anti-Trump diatribes, he and the ESB cherry-picked through the Boss’ catalog to find those songs of his most dedicated to social consciousness and politics, broad and focused. Along with writing one new track in dedication to the horrors of Minneapolis and its murders at the hands of blood-thirsty ICE agents, Springsteen, E Street and special-guest guitarist Tom Morello covered a handful of other songwriters’ palpably politicized moments.
Everything was great, and Springsteen and Co. did as they always do: an amazingly energetic, nearly-three-hour gospel revival where one of rock’s 20th-century greats offers dramatic, often-sensitive, sometimes-romantic, always-righteous commentary regarding the runaway American dream before one of the finest churning combines of musicians on the planet.
Good night.
If this seems a little cold, I’ll beg forgiveness. (As my editor joked, “You hate America.”). I wasn’t dissatisfied with the live results of Springsteen’s protest. Not for one moment did I ever believe that he wasn’t fully saddened, shocked, disgusted and downright furious by that which has happened in the name of all things Trump during this, his second, more dictatorial administration. As he should be.
As we all should be.
Because Springsteen had something(s) very definite to say throughout this suddenly booked pop-up roadshow, the scriptedness of it all left me cold. Say it loud and say it proud, Boss. This is your pulpit—and we’re here for it. Even if lots of your socially/personally indignant songs slow things when played in a row. Or how covering the Clash’s usually crunching “Clampdown” shouldn’t have a smooth horn chart. And why Tom Morello, when you already have two of rock’s great guitarists—with fine singing voices as well—to the left and the right of you?
When Bruce Springsteen speaks, people listen. I listen. I just wished he had something more to say that—like his Springsteen On Broadway show—wasn’t so very rehearsed. Maybe jot a few notes down on his sleeve-rolled forearms, but not entire speeches. Now, this is a minor quibble, to be certain. And certainly, Springsteen did offer a bit of fresh hell in that his hometown (a place that he sang of several times throughout the long night) was currently being overrun with ICE agents answering to no one when it comes to rumored human-rights violations. And that for-profit detention centers, like Delaney Hall in Newark, aren’t open to inspection by heath inspectors, governors and other politicians. “This is happening now,” said Springsteen.
That locally skewed fireside chat cut deeper than any well-honed prepared speech. And, in order to win over the MAGA-ites who surely made up a large portion of this South Philly crowd, Springsteen fought fire with fire by turning this usual revival vibe into a political rally with intense incendiary speechifying and Trump-rage spittle.
The No Kings thing. Great idea. Just needed more spontaneous rabble and rousing on Springsteen’s part. And if you didn’t care about politics, the good thing—no, the great thing—was that there were so so many truly dynamic BS&ESB moments during their two hours and 52 minutes onstage.
The night’s VIP: drummer Max Weinberg, whose swinging fills, raging toms and bookend solos brought real fury to the bee-buzzing horns of “Born In The U.S.A.,” the intro of “Hungry Heart” and so on.
Other highlights: Springsteen’s call out of “American Land” as an “immigrant song.” Morello’s ascending screech/Hendrix solo during an epically furious “Ghost Of Tom Joad.” The “It Takes Two” harmonies shared by Little Steven and Bruce at the close of “Two Hearts.” Possibly, the most bracing, soulful versions that I’ve ever heard Springsteen do of “Murder Incorporated” and an un-steadying, unnerving “House Of A Thousand Guitars.” Yeah, that good.
Oh, and Springsteen said one thing that I’m sure he couldn’t say anywhere else: “Philly, you kill me.”
Sometimes, it’s just that one spoonful of sugar that makes all the medicine go where it’s got to go.
—A.D. Amorosi; photos by Chris Sikich (shot May 16 at Madison Square Garden)
