Source: Backstreets.com
ARE WE MISSING ANYBODY?
Announcing Backstreets #91, our tribute to Clarence Clemons
One year ago today, the Springsteen community was deeply saddened to learn of the passing of Clarence Clemons. “Deeply saddened” hardly says it — the Big Man’s death sent gut-deep shock waves up and down E Street, and we’re all still feeling it one year later, even as Springsteen and the band soldier on. “On through the houses of the dead, past those fallen in their tracks / Always movin’ ahead and never lookin’ back,” Springsteen first sang back in 1995; now, a loss this monumental demands we remember, night after night, that we’re missing somebody. Somebody big.On this anniversary, we’re proud to announce the 91st issue of BackstreetsMagazine, a tribute to and celebration of Clarence’s life, music, and legacy. While this issue could never be big enough to capture all the facets of such an extraordinary man (Master of the universe! Best selling author! The next president of the United States!), we’ve worked hard to include the voices of many who knew and loved the man. In our tribute to “Phantom” Danny Federici, we focused on the E Street Band’s perspective, to give insight into their most mysterious member at the time of the band’s first loss; to celebrate Clarence’s life, we widened our focus to try and reflect that broad spectrum that is the Big Man.
“There’s a little story I wanna tell you…” Bruce Springsteen, Harvard Square Theatre, Cambridge, May 1974
Bruce had a story for every song that night. And he wanted to tell you each one. You listened to every word. He engaged you. He pulled you in. And his hat was his tool. Like a drummer’s rim shot, he pointed it at you to mark an exclamation to a sentence or pulled it back to his head as he drew you in more to his tale. I don’t know which song this was, but in reviewing the set list i think it was ” I Sold My Heart to the Junkman”. A song, “So sad”, Bruce says, “That sometimes I have to leave the stage and cry…”
Bruce and Clarence were Scooter and the Big Man, they were black and white, they were big and small. It was still a bold move in the early ’70s, especially in some parts of the country, to have an African-American in your band, much less one you danced with, rubbed butts with and engaged in a long soulful kiss with; the country was only a few years out of the Civil Rights movement and there are stories of gigs the band didn’t get and hotels they were told they weren’t welcome in.
via Backstreets.com: Rest in Peace, Big Man
