Two albums and no E Street Band

I never made my relationship to Bruce's music conditional to my approving anything or everything he does. When Better Days and Lucky Town came out in the early 90's without the band I really didn't care or mind. He had been out on the road with Sting and the Amnesty International tour and had seen how Sting changed band composition to suit his musical needs. BTW, Bruce smoked Sting on Every Breath You Take when they did a duet (on the River as well!).

The early 90's saw music in a real transition: Metal and bubble-gum were out. Nirvana, Pearl Jam and flannel-y grunge were in. Here comes Bruce with two albums and no E Street Band. The shows were good, but I have to admit, when that chick started blowing the sax on Born To Run, I booed (along with everyone else) It just felt disloyal to Clarence (sorry for the boo Bruce, I've gotten over it) Anyway, my wife was preggers (our first dance was to Tougher Than The Rest, a little silly writing this, but so be it). I was starting to make inroads on a career, we bought a house that we couldn't afford in a neighborhood we hated. Things got complicated in a hurry, and while Bruce was there (always) it became, well like the song says "There were planes to catch and bills to pay" every body just got busy eking out a livelihood and raising families.

There was a lull in Bruce's career that seemed to mimic what we were all doing: he was raising kids and taking care of his family. In 1994 Bruce recorded "Streets of Philadelphia" for the Tom Hanks film "Philadelphia" it was especially poignant for me because my brother (who was just 33) was dying from cancer, and although the song describes the depths of an AIDS victim. It is essentially a manifesto to anyone with a loathsome disease, and that in truth even if there are throngs of visitors and caregivers: we all die alone, no one can really stop and experience the abject disconnection of dying. Life goes on around the dying.

In the middle of all this my family and I watched Bruce perform "Streets of Philadelphia" at the Oscar awards (before he won!) and my dad, who would normally chime in with a nasty snark about Bruce was curiously silent. A few weeks later, my dad asked if I could put that song on for him. "Which song, dad?" "The sad one Bruce Springsteen sang at the Oscars" I was shocked, he never called him by his name it was always "That illiterate" or something else. He never made another negative comment about him.