In all honesty, I was an exceptionally lucky child. Now, that sentence would usually be completely irrelevant in regards to this subject matter, however, on this occasion, I mean it in terms of my musical education.
For as long as I can remember, my life has been enveloped within the music and lyrics of one Mr Bruce Springsteen. Hell, I can still name at least five members of The E Street Band off the top of my head. I spent my childhood fascinated with the softly spoken manner with which Nils Lofgren spoke, and the fact that Patti actually married Bruce. Every Christmas, we’d abandon traditional festival albums in favour of bootleg copies of The Boss’ December shows, when he’d crack out that heart-warming rendition of ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town’. I even believe that when ‘The Rising’ was released in the early 2000s, we owned four separate copies, to go in different rooms of the house.
Some of my earliest memories involve that one man’s music; from living room dance routines to genuinely convincing people that my favourite album was ‘Born In The USA’. However, I must’ve been about five years old when I said that, so god knows how reputable my opinion actually was. …
i really would like it if this unnecessary knot of dread and worry would go away.
most days are great, but there are always the ones that leave me wondering if i’m just messing up in the most spectacular of fashions.
