The other day I went to this flea market in my neighborhood, and I logically stopped at the record stall. While I went through my usual wallet carnage, a young kid came over and quite shyly asked if there were Springsteen records, since he had none and was trying to fill this gap in his musical education.
I promptly stepped over the stall owner, and began to illustrate the on hand discography, I’m afraid quite poor. I anyway managed to explain the essential difference and pertaining difference between a bootleg and an official record, and he left with my blessing for future purchases, holding in hand Nebraska and Born in the USA (that was all, as present good stuff).
I looked at him going home, his new two treasures in hand, and I wistfully remembered my own first Bruce’s purchase. And boy, what a road he has in front of him. I almost felt envy thinking about the pleasure of the first discover of such treasures. Plus all the others, the first albums, then Born to run and Darkness, then the live shows…
I almost, not quite but almost wished I could go back in time and undo my fan history to begin again. Then I thought that the odd thing about Bruce and rock’n’roll is that the more you have, the more you want, and you’ll always want more, so I’ll just keep rockin’ forward, not back. The direction is set, and the record player keeps going.