Tonight In Jungleland
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAAv10Ss-II]
We knew it would happen.
Maybe we didn’t. I did. I knew Springsteen would at some point feel ready to return “Jungleland” to the set, to bring that song back to his stage. For fans, in their casual conversations about issues of great musical import, the song and its return have hung in the air since Clarence Clemons’ death.
Actually, I don’t want to talk about any of that. We knew it would happen. I knew. I believe it should have happened. I miss Clarence. He cannot be replaced.
Let’s listen, though, and put aside the past — remember it, honor it, but leave it aside.
In a tour full of amazing moments, of seemingly nightly miracles and revelations, when sixty-something men and women play with the fire of teenagers in a garage band — this moment stands apart. Not as a memorial, or as a stage of grief, or even as some kind of transition — even though it may be all of those things.
It’s a tremendous performance of music. Jake Clemons pulls it off, with chops to spare. I can’t believe this kid is younger than I am. He holds the stage, feels the music, within and outside the moment at the same time.
Around him, the E Street Band is this living thing, gathering up tight beneath his notes, supporting and pushing at the same time. Listen to Roy Bittan’s piano fills, especially in the later part of the solo (around 1:48, above). Those runs are like a cleansing rain, blessing this song and encouraging Jake. Max Weinberg’s drumming, too — there’s a critical point in each live performance of “Jungleland,” right as the solo begins, where it’s Max who elevates the song to its next level. He nails it too, that “ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba” (etc and so forth, 0:58 above) that carries the band toward the emotional climax.
They play for us, but they play for each other too. This “Jungleland” brought us all together, band and audience, singer and song, one moment and every other moment in Springsteen’s live career somehow — all of us behind a single man with a gleaming sax in a solo spot, playing for all he’s worth, for us and himself and the Big Man.
