Where the Band Was: Asbury Park, December 7, 2010 (Marietta’s Story)

It’s all cold along the beach….the wind’s whipping down the boardwalk….

This wasn’t Bruce asking the band if they knew it was Christmastime. On this cold, clear December day in Asbury Park ten years ago, it was a few hundred fans swarming the Carousel House in the freezing cold hoping for a way to get inside for a rare and special performance from Bruce Springsteen and some version of the E Street Band.

The Promise: The Darkness on the Edge of Town Story box set had been released less than a month prior, and the Carousel House event was to be a videotaped performance of songs from the collection.

Even though the overwhelming majority of folks on the boardwalk knew they wouldn’t be among the 59 people invited inside, there was a party mood outside.  People began to gather by noon, and a small crowd had assembled up against the barricade when Bruce arrived in the early afternoon and graciously stopped to chat with fans.  Those of us who were lucky enough to be among the invited were ushered inside with no idea what to expect, and we waited in the slightly warmer but still cold abandoned casino while the band rehearsed for quite a long time.

A lone porta-potty stood among the lumber piles and rubble, and during this time the security and stage crew briefed us over and over that this was a video shoot, not a performance for an audience.  “Remember: we don’t need an audience for this – we can escort you out at any time.”  While that seemed a tad harsh, it all made sense when we entered the Carousel House at around 5 pm.

Each guest was assigned a specific spot to stand, and the same instructions showing us the floor cables and tracks for camera dollies were repeated by several members of the crew.  This was both for our own safety and to make sure we all knew to not get in the way of the film crew.

Much has been written and questioned over the years about the stiffness of the unexcited crowd, so let me dispel the assumptions about that. When we’re at a Bruce show, fans participate so much that we become part of the show. The Promise at the Carousel wasn’t like that–the guests were observers of a video shoot. We weren’t participants, and it was made very clear to us that if we started swinging from the rafters, we’d be shown the door. It was like being there for an E Street Band rehearsal; why would you interrupt?! That’s not to say, though, that the crowd wasn’t thrilled, in awe, and having a blast, because we were. We weren’t unexcited, we were mesmerized.  Having a ringside seat to watch Bruce work out songs and arrangements with the band was truly one of the most wonderful nights I’ve experienced.

Bruce and the band performed all songs twice, and with the exception of “Blue Christmas” to close, all of the songs were from The Promise.  Hearing Bruce’s direction to the band in between takes was as magnificent as the songs themselves. It took a bit for Steve to get the harmony down for “Gotta Get That Feeling,” but he nailed it on the second performance, and it was fantastic.

I think even Mr. Springsteen was a bit confused at times about what to do with his audience of observers, and it was as challenging for him to not play to fans as it was for us to not sing along really loudly.

In between the two takes of “Save My Love,” he directed us to walk onto the stage floor and surround him when he hit a certain part of a song.  We’d had it burned into our brains to stay put, and since Bruce had been talking to only his cohorts thus far, I wasn’t tracking that he was actually speaking to us. I leaned into my friend Lowell, pointed at my chest, did my best DeNiro, and mouthed, “You talkin’ to me?” Bruce looked right at me, pointed, and said, “Yeah, I’m talking to you!”  I simultaneously laughed and muttered, “Please don’t throw me out.”

It took us a while to shake off the instructions to not move or interfere, but eventually we warmed up and came into the circle of musicians when Bruce waved us in. It was a very small space, and only Max, Roy, Charlie, Garry, and the horns were up on risers.  It was a bit of a dance to come on in and give Bruce his crowd without bumping into Clarence, Steve, and Garry (when he stepped down).

I successfully fought off my impulse to grab one of the tambourines. Perhaps the audience’s wonder didn’t come across well on camera, but when we were on that floor, there were countless moments of us looking at each other with wide eyes, and saying without words, “Can you believe this?!!” By “Ain’t Good Enough For You,” we were all in the groove and rockin’ out with the greatest bar band in the world.

Two rounds of “Blue Christmas” was a festive way to end an amazing night, and all of those bopping Santa hats are reflective of the fun and pure joy.

The room was so beautiful that evening, and hearing those songs played live (twice!) was pure magic.

As I walked out, I was full of gratitude, knowing we’d just had a genuine once-in-a-lifetime experience. Six months later, Clarence was gone, and the Carousel memories became even more profound as I realized it was the last time Bruce and Clarence played together. What a gift it was for us to be there with them, shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart.