When I was young I had this cassette, my first downright musicassette, not just Bruce’s. First song was Johnny ByeBye, then Bobby Jean; it was an old tape, and you know how it was (if you were there when you paid for great music), you loved your tapes, and if they broke you tried to wind in the tape, to adjust it. And generally you succeeded, even if sometimes the tape got a little ruined in some places. And mine was like this, there was a little lameness in Bobby Jean, precisely when Bruce was talking of the rain and the fear, their was this delicate shrivel up of the words and the music, just for a second. But for me, it was like when you’re a baby and you’ve got your old teddy bear, all ruined and the threadbear fur and even without a paw, you LOVE it. So that was my song, my Bobby Jean, a little wrinkled, but mine, through the years and all the listening.
At that time, for me Bobby Jean was a love song, still is, actually. I did not have the texts, so I had figured in my mind all this movie of a love story with a beautiful girl. I did not understand all the words but I had this feeling that it was a story of two people who would never really leave each other. And I was not so mistaken, considering.
Yes, it’s a song for Stevie who was quitting the E Street Band.
But when you listen to it, alone in your car, with someone special, with a friend, with your love, in the dark of your bedroom or in front of a stage, it’s always the same and different song. If you’re in love, if you’ve been dumped, if a love has just ended or if a new one is just growing, with a brother or with a stranger you have just met under that stage, with someone who has been there for you your entire life: Bobby Jean has always something to tell you.
It speaks to you of a kind of love that never dies.
Music has always been important for me. Not a day has passed in my life without some music in it. Sometimes it helped me to escape from reality or relaxing on a bad day, sometimes it just kept me good company. But it was a passion I did not share: it was mine and nobody else’s. Then Bruce’s music entered my life, and it changed that role: his lyrics about looking out and loving beyond ourselves, about brotherhood and love that can exist among good friends, his belief in gaining strenght from relationships… All these messages became real when I started meeting persons who shared the same passion during Springsteen’s concerts or tribute bands events and I quickly established relationships with them. Some of them have become real good friends and, in spite of distances, we try to stay in contact as soon as we can; they have really become an important part of my everyday life. That’s what Bruce’s music has meant to me, and I’ll be forever grateful.
In this picture I’m with two of my dearest bloodsisters sharing one of our “Springsteen” moments (I’m the one with the curly hair).