remnants: Elvis Costello presents Spectacle - Special Guest: Bruce Springsteen - Apollo Theater, September 25 , 2009

The fall of 2009 was insane in terms of music-related events. Two nights before Spectacle I was out at Giants Stadium for U2 360, which the eagle-eyed will have already noticed was Springsteen’s birthday. (Bruce was there with his eldest son, he did not go onstage, but U2 did soundcheck “She’s The One” while I was on the train to Secaucus which caused me to have heart palpitations. I’ll rerun that in the future).

The Spectacle lineup got announced in mid-September which is why I had to pass up seeing the night he interviewed John Prine, because it was on the 23rd. And the night after U2 and before Elvis/Bruce was Marianne Faithful at Town Hall. I also had a day job at the time, so I was somehow managing doing all of this without collapsing. I found an email I sent a friend who wanted me to go with her to the John Prine taping where I explained my week and said, “It seemed like a good idea at the time!” As it turns out, it was the last time I ever got to see Marianne and I would have been furious if I’d skipped it, especially since this particular company laid everyone off at the beginning of December and there is literally no job that is worth missing a concert for.

I thought of this evening with great fondness while watching EC perform “I Can’t Stand Up For Falling Down” at the Ryman last week, so figured it would be a good choice to feature as this month’s rerun. No photos because it was a tv taping and there was no fucking way I would have risked getting thrown out for that.

Caveats: I have never watched the broadcast or the DVD so I don’t know what made the cut and what didn’t. (It’s on the list for this weekend.) And as usual I reserve the right to clean up the original piece and the usual caveats apply.

Sitting in the Apollo Theater, watching Elvis Costello open this particular taping of “Spectacle” by performing “Point Blank” was, on its face, an extraordinary experience. It’s a compelling song. It was a stunning interpretation. It felt like Angry Young Man vintage 70s Elvis singing, it felt like for years he had sung that song to himself based on a live version of Bruce singing it back in the day. But break it down some more: Elvis Costello. The Apollo Theater. Elvis singing Bruce Springsteen. Elvis about to interview Bruce on the stage of the Apollo Theater. My head was spinning from the intersectionality, my heart was pounding from all the emotional touchpoints.

This was a huge night. I have loved Elvis Costello since high school, since I would get shoved into my locker because I liked “that punk crap,” since I had a boyfriend seriously question our relationship when I professed my love for This Year’s Model, since my father glared disapprovingly at the Attractions playing “Radio Radio” on Saturday Night Live. I have seen him in every incarnation, whether I thought I liked it or not. Put that next to how long I have been following Mr. Bruce Springsteen. And, just to be tiresome about it, let me dwell again on the fact that all of this was taking place at the monumentally historic Apollo Theater, a place that saw Jackie and Otis and Sam and James and and and and and and and the list goes on until your head should explode. I dress up when I go to the Apollo Theater. I sit up straighter. I feel like I am part of history.

So the two guys on the stage had a lot to live up to tonight. I am thrilled to say that they lived up to the expectations set by the ghosts that no doubt swirled around them on that stage.

[Disclaimer: This is not meant to be a play by play description of the evening. Those are out there, and they do a fine job at capturing exactly what was discussed. But no one there that night got it all, because there was SO MUCH material, and it kept going, and going, and going. You know Nils was there. You know Roy was there. You know all of this already.]

Two stools get set up after Nils. Steve Nieve noodles on the intro to “She’s The One,” so we know it is coming. Elvis has guitar issues, swaps them out, complains he needs a square guitar, really, to do this song. The nod to the traditional shape of Bo Diddley’s guitar took us into the song, where it was hard to sit on your hands and not clap the downbeat like you always do, except that at some point it became obvious that we should and could, and that singing along at the chorus would be welcomed. And then the band vamped into an instrumental, and Elvis launches into a beautiful, perfect, 60’s Apollo emcee introduction, complete with clever references and turns of phrase, “and if I had my way he’d be the Grand Imperial Emperor of New Jersey” – and on walks Mr. Springsteen, to tumultuous applause. He takes off his jacket, sits down, picks up the acoustic guitar to hide behind, and starts talking.

Now, I am probably not the only person who feels that it’s been a long time since anyone asked Bruce Springsteen anything resembling a difficult question. Naively, I want to think that Elvis had carte blanche and no one from JLM was vetting the talking points in advance. I’m going to keep thinking that because Elvis poked and prodded and got very close to subjects that even hinting about would be taboo for any other interviewer.