It was time to get into Convention Hall and eat some greasy chicken fingers while waiting for things to start. My brother asked if I minded that we got reserved seats. The price for general admission was the same and those folks packed tightly like the bristles on a hairbrush looked really uncomfortable. Besides, the place isn’t that big and all seats have very decent vantage points.
So no, I really didn’t mind squeezing into the excruciatingly tiny folding wooden bleachers that looked as though they were built for children. Seriously, were people shorter, thinner and all around smaller when this place was built? At least I’d be able to get up and move around if need be. The same can’t be said for my unfortunate peers in the middle of the main floor. They’d be lucky if they could take a deep breath, let alone move.
The atmosphere here was very laid-back. Unlike the neighboring Paramount Theater, the Convention Center is much more relaxed when it comes to standing, dancing, drinking and eating. This was great for me since, when my arthritic right knee began to act up, I could walk around and grab a quick drink at the make-shift bar. At times when I stood in the back enjoying the show, I somehow found myself responsible for keeping the auditorium doors closed. I guess Springsteen’s fans were raised in barns. At least those in Section C.
Yes the show was fantastic. Yes the energy was typically off-the-meter which is a Springsteen live show trademark. Yes the impressive seventeen member band was amazing in all its folk-rock, carni-ragtime, Americana splendor. A very different sound than what most folks would have expected from Bruce. Loose and true, it harkened back to the saloons of old west American mining towns.
My enthusiasm would begin to wane as I realized just how much of a rehearsal this was. For example, during a uniquely funky, gritty version of Cadillac Ranch it was obvious Bruce’s voice was straining. OK I know … how can you tell? Well, let’s just say, it was not ‘his’ voice. He was outta breath, off key in a range that was way too high and he started loosing it, laughing. At one point he said, “Let’s try that verse again,” but got the same results.
Then one of the violin players alerted Bruce to the fact that the band had started the song in the wrong key. This made him laugh even more and he jokingly berated the keyboardist for the error. The crowd laughed, the key changed and with the return of his voice, we cheered. Bruce laughed a little more, but got thru the song.
