Of all the Philadelphia shows I’ve seen, this was the Philly-est of all.
From the “Holy moley” flashback opener “When You Walked in the Room” to the Philly special “You Can’t Sit Down” closer, this was the last concert I saw at the Spectrum before its destruction, and boy was it was a memorable one.
I’d flown in for the show with a friend of mine and met another local friend there, and we passed a gorgeous October day in line waiting for the pit lottery. While I was long-since accustomed to meeting and making new friends in line before a show, I have to admit being surprised by the gentleman in full Elvis regalia standing not far to my left that afternoon. My first thought was, “He can’t possibly wear that during the show… he’ll be a human ball of sweat.” But pretty soon, my attention returned to my friends, and I forgot about Elvis.
We scored the pit at lottery time and staked out our position toward the back of it. By this point in the tour, no one really new what to expect at showtime. Content-wise, the tour had long since ceased being the Working on a Dream Tour; the title track was the only holdover in the setlist. If anything, it had become the full-album tour, as Bruce had almost as an afterthought decided that he would feature a full album at each of the last shows of the tour. Tonight–the third of a four-night stand in Philly–we’d hear the full album of Born to Run, exciting to me only because it meant my first chance to hear “Meeting Across the River” live and extend my streak of always getting at least one song I hadn’t heard Bruce sing before.
Truthfully, I was just a little disappointed in the new format, because it meant less opportunity for wild cards. If only I’d known what was to come–it ended up being one of the wildest shows I’d ever seen.
It started right out of the gate. Funnily enough, when I was in St. Louis at the end of the Magic Tour, I heard Bruce soundcheck “When You Walk in the Room.” I love that song, and I was super-excited to hear it at the time–but he ended up not playing it, opening instead with “Then She Kissed Me” (an absolutely fine substitution).
So I wasn’t just shocked when Bruce opened with it in Philly–I was downright tickled. And right away, I knew this was going to be an unusual night.
“Two Hearts” followed, and then “My Love Will Not Let You Down,” and that’s a pretty amazing opening three-pack. “Hungry Heart” was next, and Bruce came right back to where we were standing… and then crowd-surfed right over us! It’s been pretty common-place since, but at the time this was my first “hands-on” experience with Bruce.
Then we settled in for the album performance–and surprisingly, even though I’d heard almost all of those songs many times before, it made a difference hearing them in sequence. And when Bruce launched into “Born to Run” (the song) not even halfway through the show, I realized that with with so much potential encore fodder out of the way, it really did open up the back half of the show.
But first it was wild card time–otherwise known as the “Raise Your Hand” sign collection. The first request Bruce honored was from the wayback machine–“It’s Hard to Be a Saint in the City“–but it was the next two that were special… and the first one was by accident!
A gentleman in the pit brought a “Two Hearts” request sign, with a marriage proposal on the other side. Sounds like he had a great plan, except for the fact that Bruce had already played “Two Hearts” as the second song of the show. So when Bruce pulled the sign, that was kind of an awkward moment, until Bruce rescued it by conferring with the band and playing instead… “I Wanna Marry You.” That lost River classic hadn’t been played (by the band, at least) in 28 years, and it was our second jaw-dropping moment of the night.
But really, unless you were that newly engaged couple, the night was all about Philly Elvis.
Yes, that gentleman I’d noticed earlier was right up front in the pit in full regalia, and Bruce couldn’t help but honor his request: “All Shook Up.”
Watch and marvel at perhaps the only person to ever steal the stage from Bruce. You can see the moment where Bruce completely loses control shortly after the 2 minute mark, and it’s cemented when Elvis seamlessly segues the band into a new number. He came from nowhere, but Philly Elvis (a.k.a. Nick Ferraro) is now legend (and subsequently immortalized in the film Springsteen & I).
If the rest of the main set was predictable from there, the encores still held a few last surprises: opening back up with “Land of Hope and Dreams,” a Rocky-themed intro to “Rosalita (Come Out Tonight),” and a show-closing “You Can’t Sit Down,” a cover of Philly local legends The Dovells.
What a night–it wasn’t the best, longest, most intense or unpredictable show I’ve ever seen, but it was certainly one of the most fun. And it was my very last concert at The Spectrum, where I’d seen so many shows growing up. For a last memory of a special venue, this will certainly do.
