Talk About a Dream: The Essential Interviews of Bruce Springsteen (10 page)

This is a business, man, it’s like dope or something. You get what they want sometimes, but, like, feeling is a dope in the form of money, in the form of limousines, in the form of different stuff, you know? So it makes it so easy, man.

You know, all of a sudden: “Hey, man, it’s comfortable back here! Why didn’t they TELL me it was like this? Wow, this is NICE!” It’s like: “Yeah, wow, where are we going? [
Slumps in a chair as if in back of a limousine
.] We’re going to play a 20,000 seater dance? Yeah, DRIVE me down there. Italy!”

If you don’t watch out I think that can happen and—like, I just ain’t into getting hooked on that kinda stuff.

What would you do if you were terrifically rich?

I’d spend a lot of money or something! If I was rich? If I made a LOT of money, you mean? Let me think. Phew! Get my mother to quit working. My father to quit working. My mother’s been working since she was 18—she’s 50 now. It’s too LONG to work. Right off, that’s about all I can think … maybe get an apartment in New York.

You’re very fond of stressing in your act your links with New Jersey; you mention that a lot in your talking. Why is this? Do you constantly want to remind yourself of where you’re from originally and your roots, or do you want the audience to know you’re a city person?

I’m not really a city person. Jersey is a sort of boardwalk town. It ain’t like New York. I’ve been to New York a lot, but I want people to understand what I am, where I’m from, you know. Get a clear picture of me.

Like the main reason I put it on that first album (as the title) was
because they were pushing for this big New York thing—this, this big town. I said “wait, you guys are nuts or something. I’m from Asbury Park, New Jersey. Can you dig it? NEW JERSEY.”

I wasn’t too cool. I said, I want this on the album cover. They fought and fought, but we finally got it put on. And it’s a part of my thing, it’s like—I’m from New Jersey! It’s important for people to get a clear picture of me.

Your songs are full of jagged edges but not much talk of love. Do you consider yourself a romantic? Emotional?

Oh yeah, yeah. I guess that’s me.

Do you ever cry?

Sure, yeah, sure. Hey, I’m not telling you THAT, man!

You’re often moved and touched by events that happen close to you?

No, I ain’t that kind of guy. I guess I’m more of a romantic guy. I don’t run around too much. I kinda keep to myself. As a writer it’s where you’re from. You know, if you grow up in a slum, you just want it like that. You didn’t show, like, that kind of emotion. To show too much was not the thing to do in those days, I guess. I sort of keep to myself as far as I can.

Do you drive a Chevrolet, the car which figures frequently in your lyrics?

I used to drive a truck, a heavy truck. Got an old Chevy now.

Do you drive alone?

Yeah, pretty much. I don’t like a bunch of people yelling in my ear, you know. I can’t stand kids in the back seat, man—they start yelling in my bad ear!

Once I’d got this little kid sitting in the car and he said, “Wah—take me for a ride,” and he started going nuts. Just wanna like stay by myself, you know, or have a girlfriend.

And do you like privacy? Is that important to you, to be on your own? Do you need solitude?

Yeah, I like friends, but I’m pretty much by myself out there, most of the time. My father was always like that. Lived with my father for
20 years. Never once saw a friend come over to the house. Not one time.

Do you have a good atmosphere within your band?

We don’t have a bad atmosphere. If you have a bad atmosphere you’re gonna come out and think “this guy is a fool!” You’ve gotta think, “this guy’s the greatest,” and the only way you can think that is if he is. He’s human. Everybody’s human, and everybody screws up sometimes.

But in general the guys in this band are some of the greatest guys in the world. You’ll never meet nicer people. And you’ve gotta have that feeling, man, to get that unity, to get that full-out thing: “I believe in this guy, this guy is real.”

Do you get nervous before an act?

Occasionally. Not too much.

Do you drink? Do you smoke?

No.

Go to concerts?

No, not much.

Parties?

No.

What do you think about the music industry?

I don’t think about anything too much. I don’t think about industry. I just don’t wanna know. I’m wary now. I know what I want. I don’t wanna be sidetracked with any industry concerns. It’s not my deal, it’s not the deal I got going. As long as it can be used to the good, that’s all that matters to me.

What would you do if you were not a musician? Any ideas what you might have done?

I wouldn’t have done anything. Probably done something crazy. Maybe robbed stores or something! That always appealed to me, robbing things. If I wasn’t a musician … the thing is—in life you’ve gotta keep yourself bare, you’ve gotta keep yourself trimmed down. Can’t start collecting a lot of junk.

I throw out almost everything I ever own. I don’t believe in collecting anything. The least you have to lose the better you are, because the more chances you’ll take. The more you’ve got, the worse off you get, because it comes harder.

You start to worry about this, so you’ve got to keep yourself trimmed down. Some guys I see sometimes—it’s a tragic situation, they’ll do anything, they’ve got nothing to lose. Like, they start to get fat, get messed up, do something wrong, and it’s a mistake.

It’s like, you gotta watch out—that’s the way it’s gotta be to get control. All of a sudden you get kids, get them jobs and houses and mortgages and bills, all of a sudden, Jesus Christ, if they don’t work they’re going to lose this, they’re gonna lose their car, they’re gonna lose their house, they’re gonna lose their kid, they’re gonna lose their money, they’re gonna lose their self-respect, they’re gonna lose EVERYTHING.

That’s how America imprisons everybody. It’s like a confining, society-type trip. Because they imprison you with all these damned goods, you know.

And if you can get these things, if you can get things that you want but still manage to run free when you have to, burst free, you know—then you’re a winner, because having nothing—well, that’s no way, you know, but having everything and being afraid of losing it, being afraid, scared to death of taking a chance of blowing it, that’s just as bad.

Do you believe that music, especially rock, should just be a sound or should it represent something? Should it just be a release or should it provoke thought from its audience?

It should be everything. For me it always was. Made me think about myself. I was provoked to think by Elvis Presley. He provoked thought in me, you know, made me think “Where am I at?” Dylan, Elvis Presley, Eddie Cochran—these guys provoke thought in me.

They give you a little spark; it’s fun, it’s life—rock and roll. Other music just didn’t have it. It socked you in the face: “One for the money, two for the show,” you know, “three to get ready!” That was IT.

Are you politically minded?

No.

You don’t think, for instance, of government decisions? Don’t study world events particularly?

No.

How do you view the prospect that you might in the foreseeable future play the Forum in Los Angeles, and Madison Square Garden, New York, each with 20,000 fans? This could happen and you wouldn’t have communication with an audience that you have always enjoyed in smaller places. How do you feel about those giant arenas?

It’s beyond a physical thing. It’s something else. If you work yourself up to a certain intensity where you can actually project to that many people … it’s very, very difficult. I don’t know if it’s possible. If I thought I could do in a big place what I do in a theatre with three or four thousand … I’ll have to see.

If I couldn’t, I just wouldn’t do it. I gotta realise that maybe there’s a lot of people wanting to see me, but you just can’t compromise on your thing. You can’t say, “Well, I ain’t gonna do as well, but to hell,” because I’m out here basically for myself, because I have to be fair to myself as well, you know?

Do you ever dress up, wear a suit?

I like a suit but I don’t look right in a suit. I put a suit on, my face just don’t go with the suit, man! You know. My face—I just ain’t got a suit face. It’s too bumpy. Weird.

When you go on stage in clothes very casual, probably similar to something that you’re wearing now, are you conscious of what you’re going on stage in?

Yeah, sure. I think I’ll wear this shirt, and these shoes. You go on stage and you feel good and right. I’m just gonna present myself as what I am, which is—basically, I’m dealing with basic people, and situations, and survival situations.

You’ve not conceived “dressing-down” to contrast with the band? For instance, Miami Steve [guitarist] dresses up
.

I would like to wear a suit sometimes, now I think about it. For a while I didn’t wear jeans—I wore pants, other kinds of, like ah, you know,
trousers, or whatever you call them. But I never really dressed up. Mostly because it’s hard to stretch, hard to sorta relax, hard to work.

It’s like when you’re all dressed up and it’s … yeah, I’d like a suit, maybe, someday. Just for the hell of it. Like, those guys dress up, why don’t I?

You wear a hat and sometimes throw one around in your act, but you didn’t have it here in Los Angeles. Why?

No, I cut my hair short, and it didn’t fit right. Yeah, I used to have long hair a few weeks ago, and I cut it off. Hat just didn’t fit right anymore, so I didn’t wear it.

Do you like seeing your picture in the paper?

No.

Why not?

I don’t like pictures. I don’t like video tapes. It ain’t a natural thing. It’s weird, very weird.

Do you read articles about yourself and the band?

Sometimes.

If they’re critical, how do you feel?

There was a piece I read and the only thing that upsets me is the guy, whoever wrote it, couldn’t hear what was on the album. To me that was upsetting. Because I know what’s on there, because I died on the damn thing graduating! Like, everything I got is on there. I BELIEVE that record.

It sorta upset me that he couldn’t hear what was on it. He was, like, complaining about it being repetitious. That’s a dumb comment, you know. It’s like, so what? That ain’t the point of the record, you know, and even if it is it doesn’t matter.

I hooked into this one thing, wrote basically about the same thing, for a large part of the record. I dealt with this one thing. It was like a whole. The hardest thing I ever did in my life. I bled dry on that thing, groaning, conked out on the floor, half-dead on the street at six in the morning on the corner, you know, trying to walk uptown, trying to make it to my hotel room.

I was staying for two months on it. And people lost themselves doing
it. Conditions were so extreme. So I know what’s on that record, you know, and I stand by that record with my LIFE! I just believed in the damn thing, you know, 100 percent. So if somebody can’t hear it, I can’t help it. It’s my silver machine, or something

Who’s your best friend? Do you have one? Or just a lot of acquaintances?

I got some friends. The guys in the band are my friends. I got a girlfriend. That’s who I am with most.

Do you plan to marry? Have children?

No, I can’t do that, that’s for sure.

Why?

I couldn’t bring up kids. I couldn’t handle it. I mean, it’s too heavy, it’s too much. A kid—like, you better be ready for them. I’m so far off of that track, I’m so far out of line, that it would be disastrous. I don’t understand it. I just don’t see why people get married. It’s so strange. I guess it’s a nice track, but not for me.

The spectre of Bob Dylan has been raised so many times you must be quite fed up with hearing his name in relation to your own career. But could you say how you view him?

Dylan is great. A good rock ’n’ roller. “Like A Rolling Stone”—great song.

At any point did you model yourself or any segment of your career on his?

No, I’m not really into stuff like that. When he was big I was too young. I was 15, you know. In ’65 I was 15 years old, so I never got into it. I realised real quick that you got to be yourself. If you ain’t yourself, then what are you? You’re some crazy image, and it don’t make sense. I like Elvis, I like a lot of people. My first love! He was great.

What was the first record you can remember that gripped you?

“Wooly Bully.” I can’t even remember how big I was. First record I ever bought, I think, was “Jailhouse Rock.” I always worshipped Phil Spector. About 1963 I was 13. I didn’t start playing until I was 14, I remember digging all the songs but remember that I had to go back as I started
really getting into it, go back, dig out all the old singles and stuff and see what I’d missed.

The only stuff I caught was the English explosion, man, like the Beatles. That was when I was 16, 17, 14, and 15. That’s when that happened. I was into it. Manfred Mann, man, I was nuts about those guys. Paul Jones was one of my favourites, and I dug the Animals, the Stones, I dug the Searchers, I dug, of course, the Beatles.

Do you consider yourself the future of rock ’n’ roll, as you have been described?

Hey, gimme a break with that stuff, will you? It’s nuts, it’s crazy. Who could take that seriously? The guy was sorta saying I wasn’t just like a mixture of past influences, that I was like doing my own thing. CBS took this, promoted it real heavy, and I was like “SENSATIONAL!” Cheap thrill time!

You know, it was a big mistake on their part. They probably don’t realise it, they probably think they’re right and I’m nuts, you know. But it was a very big mistake, and I would like to strangle the guy who thought that up if I ever get hold of him.