Springsteen and the Eagles: Present and Alive

They’re here to hear their favorite songs.  But what they really pay you for is to be as present and alive as you can be.

            Bruce Springsteen

From what I have read, Bruce Springsteen shows are famous for the unexpected.  Sometimes, according to the article by David Fricke in a recent Rolling Stone, the band doesn’t even know what is coming next until they hear the chords from Springsteen’s guitar, or he makes a specific motion with his hands. 

This is in contrast to the Eagles, who pretty much plan every note and nuance of a live performance.  The band is a well-oiled machine, rehearsed and ready to give the crowd what they want, along with some things the band thinks they should want.

While their respective eras overlap some, especially now in their golden years, the Eagles’ best work (besides “Hole in the World” from 2003—featuring some of the best harmonies in rock outside of CSN), was in the 1970’s and Springsteen’s was in the 1980’s (with the exception of The Rising album in 2002).  Interestingly, both bands’ later hit records were in response to the attacks of September 11, 2001, the 12^th anniversary being just this last week.  Both bands are responsive to the cultural, political, and economic zeitgeist of the times.  I respect that.  I want that.  While I appreciated Prince’s 1999 as much as today’s kids value Robin Thicke’s Blurred Lines, that’s not the music I go back to, or that sustains me.  I want music with heft, with meaning.  Springsteen and the Eagles both deliver, even when they are singing about girls in flatbed Fords or pink Cadillacs.

Now, I’ve never seen Springsteen with the E-Street Band, although we were front row center for a solo acoustic tour, which was one of the best performances I’ve ever seen.  Nor have I seen the Eagles.  While I’m attracted to the idea of Springsteen putting together a different show every night, with the band being “present and alive,” four hours of music sounds exhausting.  At the same time, though, we have, on more than one occasion, turned down the opportunity to spend $150 per ticket to see the Eagles.  Why?  Because we are not going to see anything we can’t appreciate on the record. 

For me, the Eagles symbolize comfort.  The Eagles Greatest Hits Volume 1 was the first CD I ever bought.  When I was away at college, I sang to “Peaceful Easy Feeling” at the top of my lungs and felt less lonely.  When I was ready to leave a boyfriend, I belted “Already Gone” and fucking meant every single word.  Don Henley once disparaged those songs as vapid, but perhaps vapidity is in the eye of the beholder.  He also said that he hopes the Eagles are remembered for the work they put in, and I think that’s as valuable as Springsteen committing to the moment in every single show. 

The Eagles offer familiarity and professionalism.  Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band offer passion and living in the moment.  As a teacher and student, I appreciate both in instructors.  As an audience member, I appreciate both in performers.  When an audience comes to see the Eagles, they know what they are getting, and they paid a hefty sum for it.  Same with Springsteen—they know they don’t know what they are getting, and they have reconciled themselves to that simply by showing up.  

In our lives, in everyday interactions and in relationships where we have specific agendas, we may seek polish over risk-taking or vice versa.  Most of us probably lean one way or the other, but what if we opened up ourselves to appreciate whatever is presented?  Maybe it’s not so much the performer or teacher that matters, but our reaction.  If, as students, audience members, or just participants in a conversation, we don’t come in with certain expectations, perhaps we are opening ourselves up to a whole new kind of magic—the kind that comes with being present and alive.