Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band, Cleveland, OH, May 22, 2026
"You. Are. Cleveland!!!!!"
Setlist: WAR / BORN IN THE U.S.A. / DEATH TO MY HOMETOWN / CLAMPDOWN / NO SURRENDER / DARKNESS ON THE EDGE OF TOWN / STREETS OF MINNEAPOLIS / THE PROMISED LAND / TWO HEARTS / HUNGRY HEART / YOUNGSTOWN / MURDER INCORPORATED / AMERICAN SKIN (41 SHOTS) / LONG WALK HOME / HOUSE OF A THOUSAND GUITARS / MY CITY OF RUINS / BECAUSE THE NIGHT / WRECKING BALL / THE RISING / THE GHOST OF TOM JOAD / BADLANDS / LAND OF HOPE AND DREAMS - PEOPLE GET READY / AMERICAN LAND / BORN TO RUN / DANCING IN THE DARK / TENTH AVENUE FREEZE-OUT / CHIMES OF FREEDOM
“C’mon, this is Cleveland,” Bruce Springsteen half-jokingly exhorted the crowd at some point during “Wrecking Ball” Friday night. He was asking for more because Cleveland had already poured their hearts out throughout the course of the evening and if there’s anyone who knows what a Cleveland rock and roll audience can deliver, it’s Bruce Frederick Joseph Springsteen.
The setlist is the same as it has been and as it will continue to be but what changes from night to night is the quality of the energy, the over-arching vibe presented at the outset, and then brought to life and enhanced by the audience. Friday night in Cleveland, the energy on that stage from the very minute Bruce intoned, “WAR!” was like a tightly coiled spring being set loose except there was nothing at all loose about this evening.
Bruce is wearing a blue and white striped shirt with a red tie underneath the usual vest. The hair looked newly coiffed, probably because of his Late Show appearance for the penultimate show, and I wonder how much if any of that added to the overall firepower. In Pittsburgh, it felt like there were sparks crackling out from every edge and crevice of the stage. Tonight in Cleveland it felt like the E Street Band showed up on a steamroller. The energy was massive, solid, overpowering.
“War” was martial, BITUSA was anthemic — once again, watching Max Weinberg on this night after night remains a master class — but by the time we got to “Clampdown,” Bruce was absolutely feral. He attacked every word with absolute precision but also with the same kind of full speed ahead power you’d see from Joe Strummer on an average Clash night where he had to wear what he called “a strum guard” on his right wrist because otherwise at the end of the night it would be a bloody mess. We don’t usually see this particular flavor of energetic, animated intensity with Bruce. It wasn’t light but it wasn’t heavy, it was just a force to be reckoned with.
Since we last spoke, Bruce had appeared on the penultimate Colbert Report show, where he sang “Streets of Minneapolis” solo acoustic and went with “fuckin’ lies” instead of the official “dirty lies” and got bleeped as a result, along with that intro that named and shamed the Ellisons (okay, who are we kidding, the Ellisons have no shame). I’m the Gypsy Woman with a crystal ball here, trying to decipher motivation. The average person sitting in the arena in Cleveland would have just thought this was a really awesome show and that Bruce was really into it — friends from Detroit who are huge music fans but Springsteen casuals texted me afterwards saying “One hell of a show.” It was.
As soon as Bruce began“Streets of Minneapolis” you could see the twinkle of phone flashes as people either paid tribute or hit record, wanting to be part of this moment, wanting to take a little bit of the tribute or the courage or even simply part of the moment home with them. He had his eyes closed, and he hit the opening chords an extra round or two, gathering his breath, centering himself, before launching into the song. It’s one thing to be deeply moved by an event and to write a song about it, it’s another to have to perform it night after night — finding the right emotional continuum has to be challenging.
When the song came out so much was going on and so much of the reaction was based on the simple existence of the song, that it arrived unexpectedly, and that we got to hear it live so quickly after that. It feels like its mere presence overshadows everything that is great about this song. There is so much this song owes to “Chimes of Freedom,” but there is also so much of the pure folk tradition, of witnessing something and needing to write about it, how writing a song carries a message in a way that reaches people that might not hear about it otherwise, the troubadours who went from town to town bringing the news.
Also worth noting: the specific use of “dawn’s early light,” lifting the line from the national anthem to remind the listener of where they are and what this country was supposed to stand for. Folks in Minneapolis were overjoyed that Bruce put Nicollet Avenue in a song and pronounced it correctly. Did Bruce ever think he’d write a line like “Here in our home they killed and roamed in the winter of '26”? Putting when something happened into the folk song is important because the songs get sung year over year and you need to know when it happened, so you don’t forget and so you have perspective. There’s the way he repeats the names, which then ties back to the chorus: We’ll remember the names of those who died / on the streets of Minneapolis.
And then, of course, the greatest line in the song:
It's our blood and bones and these whistles and phones against Miller and Noem's dirty lies (live, of course, sung as “fuckin’ lies”).
The juxtaposition of blood and bones/whistles and phones, the simple innocence, the practicality, and then the next juxtaposition — and this is the real artfulness of it — of against Miller and Noem’s fuckin’ lies. Naming names, truthtelling, the simplicity and the directness of it.
By the time the song was finished the entire goddamn arena was on their feet, completely unprompted.
When he let the crowd sing the first verse of “Hungry Heart” it was LOUD, arena-shaking loud. When we finished and the band swung back into the melody, Bruce looked pleased as punch and declared, “You. Are. Cleveland!” I also realized tonight that “Hungry Heart” is actually a break in the setlist for Bruce. The audience sings the first verse, there’s no guitar needed, he gets to walk around and sing and wave at people and shade his eyes to see through the lights to the people behind the stage.
“Youngstown” was greeted like the prodigal son: Here in northeast Ohio. Nils’ solo tonight was expansive, ecstatic, a declaration, a warning. Bruce sings, Them smokestacks reaching like the arms of God into a beautiful sky of soot and clay and the way his voice always soars at the end, tonight it seemed to reach new heights. I had goosebumps. I had the memories of all the dormant and working smokestacks as I drove to Pittsburgh and then came back to Cleveland. Youngstown is a little over an hour from Cleveland. This is a local story.
Once again “Murder Inc.” absolutely fucking rules. You will work up a sweat if you want to and I don’t know why you wouldn’t. I noticed that the horns sing the chorus off-mic and it adds this kind of 1978 Lost Boys/”All must sing” atmosphere to the joint. Add to that a Friday night in Cleveland and you could imagine being out in the Flats on a Friday night. Bruce was also feeling it, the blast of that last “MURDER INCORPORATED!!!” was insane, and then it’s time for Steve and Bruce to duel, Bruce shouting encouragement to the Musical Director as he attacks the guitar, and then Bruce, and then both, that duel, that faceoff where the two of them aren’t even trying because if they were actually trying to outdo each other the stage would likely self-immolate. All of this is fantastic.
“American Skin” was another transcendent moment, watching Bruce find his center and his way into the song, eyes closed, using his hands to gesture to make a point, it was like he was in the character of Lena, Amadou Diallo’s mother, who’s speaking in that first verse. “You can get killed just for living…” and you felt extra doses of the anguish and sorrow and loss. Jake comes down for his solo, after standing on the stairs with his hands up, and then Morello steps in. I don’t even know how it’s possible for almost every solo he takes to have drastically different emotional coloration; tonight I wrote “It was birds just at sunrise” because tonight that solo sounded like renewal, like hope.
Cleveland reacted loudly during “Long Walk Home” at the “you know that flag flying over the courthouse” line and I was super impressed until I realized that they are now displaying an image of an American flag on the video screens at this moment. I don't remember this in Chicago, I couldn’t see any screens in Pittsburgh, so I have no idea how long this has been going on and as much as I wish they would not do it I just keep coming back to the purpose of this tour and Morello and his “sometimes you have to kick them in the teeth,” and also I accept that the increase of concert attendees wearing American flag items of clothing on this tour are doing it for a different reason than usual, and that yes, we should absolutely claim that symbol back. It is not as popular of a song as it should be and if this gesture gets people paying closer attention to the storyline, then fine.
(It’s just the kind of obvious gesture that raises my hackles; at one point during the hours and hours of queuing for GA I went off on a rant about how angry I was on the BITUSA tour because of the bear and the tree, with my main complaint at the time being, Why can’t we just have stories anymore and use our imaginations??)
At the end of the remarks at the opening of “My City of Ruins,” Bruce asks, “Are you with us?” and I watched the wave of people from the front to the back of the arena get on their feet. I was on the rail tonight and standing level with Bruce as he looked out into the crowd and watched the entire arena rise and applaud was breathtaking.
I wrote “‘Because the Night’ belongs to Cleveland” in my notes because that is what Patti Smith would have sung if she played in Cleveland. This was another absolutely stellar moment for Nils tonight, it was this volcanic mix of melody and noise, running at the speed of a locomotive. He had a very pleased look on his face when he was done with that particular piece of guitar work. It was a stunner, very welcomed in the CLE.
I think the horns have a new dance for “Badlands.” Hearing "Badlands" in Cleveland on a Friday night fulfilled a few dreams. This would be a town who knew the song and knew what to do. One of my eternal regrets is not being old enough to experienced this place in its rock and roll heyday.
“The Ghost of Tom Joad” is such an incredible high point in this set that keeps raising the bar with every show. It is here because of Morello, it is here because it is thematically relevant, and it is here because it is a great fucking song. It’s positioned in the back third of the set, falling between “The Rising” and “Badlands.” They’re all songs about courage, collective and individual, but “Joad” has transformed into one of the best moments of the evening, delivering a moment of mass catharsis.
It’s not that Bruce Springsteen doesn’t have many songs in his catalog that can perform that role or engender that reaction, there are plenty. But this is the one doing the job in 2026, because of where it is positioned in the set, because it is a spotlight moment for Tom Morello, and because of the interplay between Bruce and Tom as they trade verses and guitar solos. They are tuned into the same wavelength and watching that telepathy that musicians can have with each other is fascinating. The handoffs between solos, Bruce watching Morello intently, the small nods of agreement and encouragement and appreciation, Bruce’s intensity, and Morello’s triumph, when he hits that sustain and raises his arm in the air.
Morello doesn’t play anything like Bruce but they’ve found a way to play off each other that keeps continuing to grow and evolve and the result is the kind of thing you saw Friday night in Cleveland, this kind of exploding, heart-stopping ecstasy. It’s not typical E Street but Bruce has made it clear that he is expanding the definition of what that means. Bruce’s intensity was off the charts and the entire arena roared in response every time Tom Morello stepped to the mic. I’ve seen crowds cheer his solos but this was something else.
It feels a world away from 2014 when there was a vocal contingent of the fanbase that treated the presence of Morello as Bruce’s pet project and he was not accorded the respect he deserved. There were a lot of people who did not like him on that stage back then. I posited to a friend that maybe the reason he’s been so warmly accepted in 2026 is that we’re at a generational shift with the audience, that now we will have people coming to shows who listened to RATM (or similar loud and angry music) and the people who disapproved aren’t around any more to complain.
Being in the pit for “American Land” is overwhelming. The entire fucking band is right in front of you. The horns have a dance routine, Morello sings on the chorus, Charlie Giordano is singing along while playing the accordion, and then, this verse hit hard in Cleveland, another city of immigrants:
They died building the railroads, they worked to bones and skin
They died in the fields and factories, names scattered in the wind
They died to get here a hundred years ago, they're still dying now
Their hands that built the country we're always trying to keep out
Mr. Landau was spotted in the camera pit as the house lights came on for “Born to Run,” which was kinda touching.
The interlude tonight before “10th Avenue,” it’s that retro-sounding introduction music that sounds like James Brown but isn’t, it is right out of those videos of the Stax-Volt Revue in Europe in the 60’s (all over Youtube, highly recommend), and that is one part of the joy of being in the pit is the ability to watch him work, watch how he leads this band. There aren’t a lot of people doing this; there are bands that play together, there are bands that have a leader and there’s some direction, but it’s not that old-school tradition that E Street was built on, those nights where Bruce would go to places like the Satellite Lounge just to watch someone like Sam Moore lead a band. I could watch an entire show just making notes about those kinds of moves because they are absolutely enthralling.
During his closing remarks before “Chimes of Freedom” there were definitely moments where he was improvising a little bit and some where he stuck closer to the prompter and I am not at all against the prompter — we don’t love him because of his memorization skills — but he felt more comfortable, he was more relaxed at this point, he had worked out a lot of whatever he carried onstage tonight (and all the nights of this particular tour). He is being repetitive to make a point, because it is so important to him, because he wants to make sure he gets it right. (It would also probably help if they could come to a decision about how loud he wants Charlie to be during all of this because I’ve twice had to watch him ask the guys to take it down a bit.)
And then, the beautiful solemnity and dreamlike aspiration of “Chimes of Freedom.” He doesn’t announce it, he doesn’t tell us it’s a Bob Dylan song (in a perfect world, everyone would know this already, but we live in the real world) and I am still thinking about not why he chose this song — that is obvious — but more why he wanted to close this show with words that were not his own. But we will save this discussion for the DC report.
“What an incredible Friday night audience!” Bruce declared at the end of the night. “Give yourselves a round of applause. These people stood up for three hours! We love you! Thank you! Thank you for supporting our band all these years. I think back to the old Agora — I was in my 20’s, like 28, 27. Here in Cleveland, thanks for a lifetime.” And alongside the general emotional tone of this particular tour and the intensity of this particular night, there was also the aspect of this being a Friday night in Cleveland. If you closed your eyes for a second you could tap into all of that, the kind of heat and excitement and atmosphere I’d imagine as a teenager, lying in bed and listening to my cassette copy of “Summertime Bruce” (old heads know!) and Kid Leo and the Cleveland Boys, just a little bit too young to have experienced all of that.
Off to Our Nation’s Capital next.
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Tonight’s beneficiary was Able Advocates, “whose Immigration Advocacy Project has assisted thousands of individuals and families fleeing violence and persecution in their homeland.” When they brought the GA line in, the only people on the concourse besides the vendors were the volunteers from Able Advocates and as we walked by the table the line applauded and grabbed postcards and tried to give them cash money. I thought about how over the years Bruce has trained all of us to react to the charity beneficiaries at each show, how I considered it bad luck to leave a show without throwing some cash in the bucket (and now, donating through the QR code).
some day i will get an actual photograph of the guitar in midair
