Catching up with the B Street Band, the longest running Springsteen tribute band, at an outdoor concert.
The Boss’ Mirror Image
Conditions were perfect for an outdoor evening concert at Ramapo College last night but the cherry on top was the B Street Band, the longest running Bruce Springsteen tribute band, bringing life to selections from Springsteen’s repertoire. Every so often, at day’s end, you characterize the past 24 hours as one of your better days.
Since I work four-day weeks-four long days-Thursday nights are my Friday nights. Knowing I wouldn’t have to drag my carcass out of bed this morning, combined with wonderful music, the Boss’ music, fantastic weather-the moon didn’t need to be full, but it was-and the company of good friends, saturated this Thursday night experience with good karma.
I worked my way around the back of the band shell moments after the performance, located the open door, waded through backstage clutter, and found the band unplugging and packing for their next gig. There was no need this time to wheedle my way through layers of security using a press pass and fast talking.
I finally got to meet William Forte, owner-performer of the B Street Band, face to face and he graciously introduced me to the lead singer, Bruce-mimic, Glenn Stuart. I had been exchanging emails with the band and had explained although my Springsteen ebook is temporarily moth-balled, I want to finish the few remaining interviews. The urgency to get the book out is waning but, before I put A Notion Deep Inside into suspended animation, I need to complete the writing.
I also know how hard these guys work and how busy their schedule is-too much to even think of interviewing them before or after a gig. I only wanted to connect the faces, meet an email connection, and lay the groundwork for future interviews with them.
The first thing you need to know is when I walked onto the stage last night their joy was palatable. My first impression was how envious I was that these people were loving what they do to the point where you felt the joy envelope you as if you walked into a wet mist. Sweat was pouring off William’s head but he was beaming like a Buddha, having ridden the high of a 2-hour concert.