The Musical Box

Just as Glory Days started to wind down last night at U.S. Bank Arena in Cincinnati, Bruce Springsteen looked at his watch, then over his shoulder at bandmate Steve Van Zandt and finally to the euphoric crowd in front of him.

“Is it quittin’ time?” he asked. How could it be? The encore segment of a typically jubilant and emotively charged evening with the E Street Band was just getting underway. “Is it goin’ home time?” As before, the crowd loudly and playfully replied in the negative. Finally, Van Zandt took the mike and set everybody straight about exactly what time it was: “It’s Boss time.”

Well, that went without saying. While he doesn’t dish out the four hour marathon performances as he did in the ‘70s and ‘80s, Springsteen still fueled this two-and-a-quarter hour show with abundant physicality, immediacy and topicality. Of course, possessing a song catalogue of still-remarkable depth and one of the most effervescent arena rock bands of all time helped keep the drive alive.

As to the former, Springsteen managed an artful balance of material new and old. The cranky guitar anthem Radio Nowhere, the first of seven tunes from the 2007 album Magic, was placed near the beginning after a show-opening Darlington County established a resilient E Street Band spirit. The rest of the new fare reflected varying degrees of personal and political restlessness.

Devil’s Arcade and Long Walk Home - played as dark, propulsive meditations - were littered with snapshots of lost homes, lost causes and lost souls. Long Walk Home summed up the temperament best: “Certain things are set in stone - who we are, what we’ll do and what we won’t.”

Conversely, Livin’ in the Future gave rise to protest barbs at the current Washington regime (”the sinkin’ sound of something righteous goin’ under”) that even the E Streeters’ penchant for bright pop hooks couldn’t mask.

From the past came plentiful treats: 1972’s Lost in the Flood, where The Boss let loose one his jagged Black & Decker guitar breaks; 1975’s She’s the One, which was built around the Bo Diddley-gone-wild beat set up by drummer Max Weinberg; 1978’s Candy’s Room, with Springsteen and Van Zandt merrily trading solos; 1982’s Reason to Believe, redefined as a Slim Harpo-style blues grind with a swampy Nils Lofgren slide guitar charge and 2002’s Lonesome Day, arguably the finest ensemble piece of the night.

Of course, “Boss time” also meant putting in overtime. After an encore finale of American Land, an Irish-flavored anthem that lined up eight of the nine E Streeters in a row at the front of the stage with pianist Roy Bittan and pinch-hitting keyboardist Charlie Giordano (in for the ailing Danny Federici) on double accordions, the house lights came on, instruments and microphones were hauled away and the audience began to file out of the arena. But Springsteen wasn’t done. He returned for an unexpected second encore: a glorious 15 minute jam of the seldom-performed Kitty’s Back from 1973’s The Wild, The Innocent and the E Street Shuffle album.

Such is the way of business at a maverick Springsteen concert. No one goes home until The Boss says so.

(above photo of Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band by Danny Crouch)