Blue Collar Turncoat
By: Joel Miner
Tags: Broadway, New Jersey, Bruce Springsteen, E Street Band, Springsteen

I realize this piece will be roundly criticized. Springsteen has always been a God-like figure, but his run on Broadway basically cemented his status as Celebrity Untouchable. That said, it was that very Broadway show that opened my eyes to a Boss more focused on money and fame than the true working-man ethos he tries so hard to portray.

I originally wrote this piece in August 2018, and with his latest album set to be released on October 23rd, 2020, I figured why not finally send this message out into the world — and who knows, perhaps it’ll even sell a couple more albums for the old man. Try to contain your anger until the end.

Cover of Bruce’s new 2020 album. Like most hard-working grunts, he often wears a decorative scarf while walking through a snowstorm. Photo: Danny Clinch

I’ve been a huge fan of Bruce Springsteen for the last two decades of my life, and I first began connecting with his work after borrowing his Greatest Hits album from my best friend’s dad. Prior to Bruce I’d been a huge fan of Rage Against the Machine, and while they may seem light years apart, anyone who has really dug into Bruce’s lyrics understands the powerful underpinnings of revolution and rebellion that have always been present in his work — and just give “Lost in the Flood” from his very first album, Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J., a listen for one of his earliest examples.

I was raised for the most part in a single-parent, low-income household, and while I never felt I needed a voice like Springsteen’s to inspire me, when he came along I found an artist that, for as big as he was, really seemed to understand where I was coming from. I bought all of his albums, all the re-issues, read every book I could get my hands on, and just a few years ago waited in line for hours to get a signed copy of his autobiography, Born to Run, and grab a quick photo with the Boss himself. All of these works and interactions painted an honest-to-goodness picture of a man (both young and old) struggling to find his own place in the world, while helping those who listened do the same.

Bruce and the E-Street Band were the first artists that ever inspired me to travel cross-country to see one of their performances, and I did so several times over the last 20 years. I was the guy everyone knows that’s really into a band — as in, kinda only listens to that one band, and I still to this day receive emails, Facebook messages, and texts pertaining to the Boss years after having interacted with the person sending said message.

Of course, there were Bruce haters as well — perhaps more haters than people that agreed with my allegiance to the Boss. People quickly started singing “Born in the USA” as if it were a pro-American power ballad (some of them men double my age who claimed to know all about rock and roll), and I would quickly explain the true message behind that song — and I would attempt to discuss other Bruce tracks that are viewed as pop but come with a much deeper, darker context. This gritty, other-side-of-the-tracks message is freely conveyed on albums such as Darkness on the Edge of Town, but when you hear the up-tempo “Dancing in the Dark” you really need to embrace the lyrics to understand the frustration and fragility of the song’s narrator.

My devotion to Bruce and the E Street Band grew a hundred-fold when I started attending his concerts, and for the first time I understood the legend of Bruce being equal parts world-renowned showman and heartfelt troubadour. He would power through “Something in the Night” just as easily as “Born to Run,” and he would always mention ways in which the crowd could donate to the local food bank. That hit me, and I can only imagine how much he’s helped those food banks and other not-for-profits over the years. He seemed to be the one major rock star that managed to maintain the image of a guy you’d find grabbing a beer at the local bar instead of setting sail on private yachts with out-of-touch millionaires.

Outtake for the cover of Bruce’s “Darkness on the Edge of Town” album. The raw and gritty Springsteen so many of us love. And likely worth a little less than $500 million at this point. Photo: Frank Stefanko

Things are different now. Perhaps my eyes have been opened more. Perhaps more articles are coming across my radar. Perhaps I’m just a different person that I was maybe 20, 10, 5 years ago — maybe even a year ago, but what it boils down to is this: something’s changed with the Boss. And it has affected me enough that I simply needed to write this piece not knowing it would ever be published. I don’t know if this is my breakup letter with Bruce, but it’s definitely a message I’d like him to read loud and clear: you’ve lost touch, Bruce, and you’ve lost at least one fan in the process.

These feelings first began a few years ago, during Bruce and E Street’s tour in support of the River re-release and a tour in which they were playing The River in its entirety (not my favorite album, but a concert I felt I needed to see nevertheless). I’d spent significant amounts of money on his concerts before, but those were almost always purchased on aftermarket sites where you’d expect the cost to be higher — typically double face value with additional site fees. It sucked, but I realized I wasn’t able to hit the first window of sales where tickets sat modestly below $100 for one of the best concerts I’d ever see.

When the Boss came through Denver on the River tour, however, the face value of the evening’s GA tickets hit $150 (or $176.50 after taxes and fees) for basically the very same style of concert one would always expect from Bruce and the prophets of E Street. They would all kill it for close to 3 hours, everyone would lose their minds, little kids would get on stage and sing along, house lights would blare along with the speakers during “Born to Run,” and we’d all leave sweating, smiling, and proud to be fans of such an incredible artist.

Those arguing on behalf of the price hike could say they were playing The River in its entirety, but just attend one Bruce concert and you’ll know the crowd shows extreme excitement for any song the band decides to play. Furthermore, there was no $100+ ticket prices when I watched the band perform Born to Run in its entirety years earlier — so it’s clearly not the full-album concept that’s driving up the price. Additionally, several other bands of great importance and prestige were coming through Denver at that very time with prices far lower than $150 for general admission.

Something was changing with Bruce, and I couldn’t really understand it until August 2017 when I received the first email announcing the then-upcoming Bruce on Broadway performances. My first and only thought: “Holy shit, I can’t wait to attend.” One show; somehow, some way. I’d spend a couple hundred if needed, but I also saw they had limited seats available starting — if I remember correctly — around $75. I entered the first Verified Fan ticket lottery with great excitement, only to be told that there was so much interest I wouldn’t even be allowed to even take part in the lottery. As in, a completely random, open lottery where everyone has a chance. Like the same lottery system states across the country utilize every week. How does that even happen? I brushed aside whatever frustrations I had at the time knowing I was still registered in their system with promises of first dibs on entering the next lottery — which I did when the tickets for eighty-one additional shows went on sale on March 28, 2018.

The 28th came and I was fully stationed and ready to go. I had set a couple of alarms to keep me up to speed with Eastern Standard Time; I’d picked a random concert date in the middle of the week many months out; I’d copied my code for immediate pasting speed; and when all was said and done I had my info dialed into the system well less than 10 seconds after the tickets went on sale. And…nothing. The single seat I’d selected in the $75 section on one of the eighty-one dates in the middle of the week many months out was somehow sold out in less than a matter of seconds.

And to be honest, as much as that sucked, that’s kind of how ticketing works these days. What really pissed me off, and initially inspired me to write this piece, was the follow-up suggestion I received from Ticketmaster saying that while my $75 seat wasn’t available, I could easily move forward with the purchase of a…wait for it…$750 seat. Seven hundred and fifty dollars for one seat at a Bruce concert. And that’s not even including an additional seat for my girlfriend to join me, airfare for the two of us, lodging, food, drinks, you name it — all at always-approachable NYC prices.

That moment changed everything for me. This was a guy who I’d followed around the country, a guy whose work I coveted and listened to over and over and over for far too many times over far too many years. I repeatedly stood up for his blue-collar mantra when others said he was a phony. I had seen him promote the food banks, I had read about his efforts to help Vietnam vets and his appeals to keep some of Asbury Park’s greatest monuments preserved over the years. I often retold the story of how the only time Bruce agreed to talk to New Jersey Governor, Chris Christie, was when Springsteen was on Air Force One with Obama during the 2012 election season. Shoot, I even watched the movie Blue Collar after hearing he was a fan. The movie was incredible, and it most certainly furthered my thoughts that this guy really cared about the people he wrote about in his songs.

I no longer believe that to be true. What started as a jacked-up ticket price to listen to a live version of The River became an insulting $750 charge to see him on Broadway. What person who claims to come from a blue-collar background — someone who still claims to represent America’s working families — would allow such insane ticket fees to exist in the first place? One that’s a tried-and-true blue collar turncoat, and one that has clearly lost touch with the very people that shell out hard-earned money to see him perform.

Thespian, indeed. Signing about the hard lives of working-class Americans at performances only wealthy celebrities could afford to attend — popped collar and all. Photo: Rob DeMartin

After the anger I first felt over Broadway subsided, it didn’t take much longer for me to find even more reasons to shine some light on a man that has become the new darling of the uber-rich. Bruce is like a Harley Davidson, once a symbol of gritty American counterculture, and now a fun toy for the rich, white American elite that work to crush the middle class on a daily basis. Of course, Bruce has been rich for quite some time, (over $500 million rich at last estimates), but as soon as he moved out the squalor of arenas and stadiums, he became less a rocker and more of a self-proclaimed “thespian.”

That’s Bruce’s latest assessment of this whole Broadway situation from an article in the Star Tribune (Bream, Jon. 2018, July), and it was yet another article where a celebrity is cited as one of the show’s attendees (this time Christina Aguilera with her fiancé). In fact, most headlines you see related to Bruce on Broadway have to do with the celebrities in attendance, and according to the Asbury Park Press, Bruce had five celebs drop in all at once as recently as October 16th, including Dr. Ruth, Courtney Cox, and Jennifer Aniston, plus collaborators on The Big Sick, Emily V. Gordon and Kumail Nanjiani (Jordan, Chris. 2018, October). This is the new normal at a Bruce show, and it serves as another example of the kind of money you need to have on hand to drop over $1,500 for face value on two tickets.

Beyond these lesser-know publications, Bruce has also become a regular staple in Forbes, a magazine whose motto is “The Capitalist Tool,” and who loves to document our nation’s and the world’s mega-wealthy. In Forbes’ most recent list of “The World’s Highest-Paid Celebrities” (2018, July) it was reported that Bruce earned $37.5 million in just the first seven months of 2018 — and the article’s author was sure to site the massive ticket prices for part of these earnings.

And just when I thought another Forbes article entitled “Lead Like Springsteen: Five Key Things The Boss Does That You Should, Too” (Weinstein, Bruce. 2018, June) was the most off-putting and nail-in-the-coffin piece I’d read to date, I came across another Forbes article, the almost comical “Broadway’s Box Office Takes A Nosedive As Springsteen Takes A Vacation,” (Seymour, Lee. 2018, August) in which the author says “Vocal Trump antagonist Bruce Springsteen has been breaking records left and right since opening Springsteen on Broadway last year, regularly grossing over $2 million a week. And when he goes on vacation — as he did this past week — the industry’s overall performance takes a hit.,” going on from there to discuss Broadway’s haves and have-nots. Which is all somewhat ironic for such former “champion” of America’s true have-nots.

This is Springsteen now. A thespian who uses his now decades-removed connection to the working class to tell a story of growing up in America; who cherry-picked a tiny theater in which he could gouge his show’s prices on the backbone of these insincere tales; and who has the audacity to joke about Bruce on Broadway being his first five-day-a-week job. Oh, and when he recently took what must have been a much-needed vacation from earning two million dollars a week, he actually decided to set sail on a private yacht — a $590 luxury yacht in fact, and owned by music mogul, David Geffen (Siegler, Mara. 2018, August. Bruce Springsteen and wife hang on David Geffen’s luxury yacht. Page Six). I guess maybe he doesn’t grab beers at the dive bar after all.

This is all quite the lavish lifestyle for a hard-knock kid from Jersey, all bought and paid for by the middle class saps like me that believed he gave a shit about us, and most recently financed by the well-to-dos who have enough extra money that they can drop thousands on a couple seats to see the new hero of white privilege take the stage. It most certainly saddens me to feel this way about someone I’ve never met — a celebrity nevertheless, and I absolutely understand the fact that my connection to the Boss’ work was and is something I have full control over. But in a time when the world seems as corrupt and unequal as ever, it really hurt to see the Boss become a proponent of the same greedy, disconnected practices he so passionately rallies against in his songs — and what led me to believe in him in the first place.