Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band, Palace Theatre, Providence, RI, July 20, 1975

SETLIST: INCIDENT ON 57TH STREET / SPIRIT IN THE NIGHT / TENTH AVENUE FREEZE-OUT / GROWIN' UP / IT'S HARD TO BE A SAINT IN THE CITY / THE E STREET SHUFFLE / BORN TO RUN / THUNDER ROAD / NEW YORK CITY SERENADE / KITTY'S BACK / ROSALITA (COME OUT TONIGHT) / 4TH OF JULY, ASBURY PARK (SANDY) / A LOVE SO FINE / SHA-LA-LA / QUARTER TO THREE

The E Street Band at this moment is Roy Bittan, Clarence Clemons, Danny Federici, Garry Tallent, Miami Steve Van Zandt, and Max Weinberg.

Venue capacity: 3,000

“We’d like to introduce - Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band.”

Roy hits the opening chords, and there’s respectable applause, but once he finishes those bars and cycles into the opening motif, there is a gigantic, enormous burst of applause. Is it because someone, either Bruce or Clarence (or both) walked onstage together at that moment or is  because they recognized the song or because it was “Incident”? It feels like more than that, even on tape, this enormous wave of energy like several thousand people exhaled with relief in unison. To quote from our friends at JEMS, “This may well have been the earliest Springsteen show where hardcore fans in the northeast converged because it was the first chance to see him in months.” 

The last time you could have seen Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band was back in March at Constitution Hall in DC. You might have known that there were some shows in Atlanta that got cancelled after that, you might have done the math that there had to be a new record coming out soon given that WIESS came out in November of 1973, if you were paying attention you may have noticed that some new songs were showing up in setlists and sometimes Bruce would even mention that they were from their new record that would be out “soon.” But also? There was always a chance that your favorite band could just disappear, never to be heard from again, no dramatic announcements on multiple platforms. Just…poof. 

The audience doesn’t know that the band has literally finished recording what will be the next album earlier that day, that they were rehearsing on one floor of the Record Plant while Bruce and Jimmy Iovine and Jon Landau and Mike Appel were trying to finish the record on another floor. It’s still not finished finished, he has to go back to overdub vocals on “She’s the One” in a few days --  but the tour was booked and the record had a release date and was on the schedule, the machinery was already in motion. 

But this is still “Incident,” and tonight it’s just Bruce and Roy because Suki Lahav and her husband are no longer part of the organization, they have returned home. I loved those versions of “Incident” with her part but honestly? I prefer it like this. You could call it “unadorned” but, man, “Incident on 57th Street” is a monument, it does not require anything else. Listen to the moment at the end of the third verse, where Bruce first sings, “Those romantic young boys,” where in this era you’d be waiting for Suki to echo the refrain, but now Roy repeats the melody while Bruce keeps singing. It is more than enough. It is probably better. 

There’s another burst of applause shortly afterwards and I’m guessing this was when the rest of the band walked onstage. (I tried finding someone who was at this show who might remember what happened and I appreciated it so much when their response to me was, “All of my ‘memories’ are from the bootleg of the show.” I am more suspect of the people who claim to have photographic memories of concerts that happened decades ago.)

On the final chorus, Bruce finally relaxes, he soars into those ending refrains, and the audience does not hoot or holler or BRUUUCCCEEE or do anything except let him sing. There’s a little melodic wordless vocalzation at the very end, slightly off mic, and then once he and Roy stop, the ensuing applause is nothing short of rapturous. 

As the intro to “Spirit in the Night” builds, you can close your eyes and imagine what it felt like, at least a little bit, the anticipation, the familiarity, you know what’s going to happen, there’s a new guy but it’s still the E Street Band, and everyone that’s in the room probably knows this one already. If not, they’re in for a treat. You can sense the relief in Bruce’s voice, as hard as it might be to comprehend that this man has been literally fighting for his professional life over the past four months. Clarence is propelling things along, very tastefully, just on the edges of the song, the band are chiming in on the choruses: “All night!” Somebody hits a clam on the synthesizer, a la Westbury Music Fair. 

“Now, this kid, Hazy Davey….well, he got really hurt.”

~ Clarence waves his hands through the bar chimes ~

“Hey little brother, don’t you think that it’s time that we go…” it’s almost conversational, he’s certainly on the edge of the stage, he’s interacting with the crowd. And then, he drops to a whisper: to gypsy angel row…and Max hits the snare with precision. 

“This song is something from our new album, it should be out next month, for sure it’s called…you better watch out for a Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out…”

Just… the thought that this is the first time this song has ever been played live. It started right here! Roy hits the chords with aplomb, the bass swings in, Clarence is shaking a tambourine (perhaps a little too briskly), and then there is the new guy and that delicious scratch guitar, those chords, so simple and subtle, but so essential to the song’s foundation. Danny slides in, and we’re off. 

KID, YOU BETTER GET THE PICTURE

We know it’s coming but no one there knew it was coming and so we can only imagine what it was like to watch this all unfold. But then there’s this:

Well, a change was made uptown, and the Big Man joined the band

HONK HONK SQUEAK HONK…okay, we’re not quite there yet.

Bruce and SVZ on the chorus! THE IMMORTAL HARMONIES. We get to hear them live in front of an audience for the first time.

“Saint in the City,” and now the band has shaken off their nervousness and their live show rustiness -- playing live is not the same as playing in the studio for months -- and they are just motoring. It is literally quite amazing how they have all slid into lockstep and are playing with all of the power and command we -- and everyone in that room -- knows they possess. That guitar solo over the end run is absolutely on fire and I am particularly enamored of Mr. Roy Bittan’s virtuosity. It sounds like there’s some initial call-and-response between Bruce and SVZ and then at the end, the sheer guitar firepower is almost overwhelming. That part of things still needs to be worked out, but we (and I imagine they) are at least a little excited about the endless potential. 

“At the Palace Theater in Providence this week, Springsteen wowed a sold-out house with a two-hour set. The lineup in Providence was the same as at the Music Hall last October except for the addition of guitarist Steve Van Zandt whose Fender picking has freed Springsteen to ham it up to the hilt. William Howard, Boston Globe

That is the element that surfaces on this recording. It is the beginning of a new era but it does not quite feel like that yet, there is no great tectonic convergence. If you take Steve at his word, he believed that this thing of Bruce’s was almost over and so him agreeing to get put on salary wasn’t much of a commitment -- and that event didn’t take place until May, when they were recording “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out”  -- so there probably wasn’t an enthusiastic conversation about how to best change the setlist in order to take maximize the presence of Miami Steve Van Zandt in his band as a permanent fixture. 

If you look at the 1975 setlists, it quite honestly takes Bruce a while to figure out what a Born to Run tour setlist looks like vs everything he’d done previously. I’d personally point to the middle of September, where we’re finally getting 5-6 songs from the new record consistently performed and also Bruce starts letting go of the old and familiar standbys like “Incident” or “Saint” to open the show. He was dealing with his own feelings about how he felt the record came out, the pending Time and Newsweek covers, and this is when he gave an interview to Robert Hilburn of the Los Angeles Times talking about how he understood how other musicians gave in to drugs and alcohol. 

Back to “E Street Shuffle.” I can’t quite make out what Bruce is saying to the audience, he’s half whispering, I have listened half a dozen times. It’s definitely something about taking it down a little, and then some yelping from the audience -- they’re allowed at this point -- Bruce offers some direction to Max, I think, based on how the drums stop/start, and then the keyboards vamp and clear the aural palate, give Bruce a chance to catch his breath. “Don’t be so DRAMATIC,” yells a dude sitting near the taper. There’s another burst of applause that is undecipherable, I imagine maybe Clarence striking a pose? 

And then it’s storytime, the same story we already know, Bruce walking through Asbury Park during a dark and stormy night, and there’s the guy in the white suit, “Walkin’ like there was no rain and the wind wasn’t blowing, just walking like it was…a beautiful summer day…I did the normal thing: I was cool, I threw all my money on the ground, threw off my jacket…didn’t move…all he did was he reached out his arm, right…and I was scared half to death…slowly I turn -- here, the crowd laughs with great delight and I’m sorry we can’t see it --  step by step until… sparks fly on E Street…”

“Dressed in snakeskin boots packed with…

Clarence misses his cue!

Bruce could have just kept going, and I wish I’d been able to see the facial expressions of the band, but he decides to just take the band through the verse again, whispering to the crowd, apologizing for the error. Except Clarence misses his cue again (you can hear some murmured “Detroit muscle” from the crowd) and Bruce just makes them cycle through the verse once more – “This time, I promise,” he says – and there is a little bit of exaggerated emphasis as he goes through it one more time, and Clarence answers with: “East Coast muscle,” while some folks in the audience yell for Detroit. This whole interlude is very Van Morrison, from the languor of the band to the way Bruce is attenuating his vocals. 

“Steve! Play it, Steve!” Bruce throws it to the new guy and even if he hadn’t announced it, there’s no way it could have been anybody else, I am sorry. 

The measured pace on the bridge: “EVERYBODY FORM A LINE.” It’s an observation as opposed to the declaration it would become later, as the song shifted and changed, before it would vanish into the ether for a good long while.

“This is the title track of the next album, it’s called ‘Born to Run,’ he says, with about as much enthusiasm as he had back at the Westbury Music Fair performance of it back in February. They rush through it, they don’t give it room for it to breathe and flex and they bury its power and potential. There is no hype, there is no excitement. They will play only three songs from the record tonight and as noted above, it will take them a while to figure it all out. 

I’d like to imagine what the message boards would have looked like after this show, had there been message boards in 1975. I CAN’T BELIEVE I DROVE ALL THE WAY FROM CLEVELAND AND HE ONLY PLAYED THREE NEW SONGS. Someone would be posting that they knew someone at the record company and they said the record wasn’t very good, which is why they only played three songs. I could write an entire fanfic on this idea.

“This one is called ‘Thunder Road,’” and then the audience blissfully shuts up… mostly, except for the hambone who shouts after the first line. Like “Born to Run,” it’s a little rushed, a little breathless – it’s scary to play new songs in front of people who’ve never heard them before, even if they’re entirely on your side, especially if you yourself are tired of hearing them and how weeks in the studio have made you forgotten that this is a really fucking great song. Seriously, dude. There’s no finesse, there’s no shading, it expands outward a little bit towards the middle, but it is nowhere near what it would become – and this assessment is probably harsh given that I can’t un-know what I know. 

But then they deliver an absolutely stunning version of “New York City Serenade.” It isn’t as enormous or as grand as some of the other shows we’ve covered here, but there’s something about its lightly askew presentation that is overwhelming in a different kind of way. It is forlorn, fragile, full of melancholy, and absolutely heart-rending. But at the end of the bridge, he charges straight back into it and as the band crashes back into that final refrain you can hear that the crowd is on their feet, cheering their hearts out. 

“Watch out, ‘cuz… Kitty’s Back,” Clarence warns the audience, before everyone slides into formation, easily, seamlessly. “Hey Steve,” Bruce yells as they head into the first bridge, where Danny takes the initial solo, it’s chill, compact, bright; Roy meets him at the same place energetically although his run is a little more athletic, expands as it moves along to its conclusion. And then it is time for the guitars. It takes a while for things to warm up, but when they do, it is a twisted and thoroughly glorious journey. The crowd offers their support at its conclusion and the whole band are just fucking going for it, full speed ahead now, another murmur of approval when its done.

Bruce calls out to Max, who hits a rimshot; then he calls out to Clarence, it’s barely audible, but it’s not like we don’t know how the song goes, as they move into the call and response, here she comes. Listening to it on a random day in 2025 it feels like homecoming, I can only imagine what it felt like to someone who’d spent the last few months wondering if they’d ever see their favorite band play live again.

“Rosalita” and the rapturous response from the crowd. “I ain’t here on business,” Bruce declaims with what feels like some kind of special emphasis. But it’s mostly just the moment that this crowd, who had been so attentive and polite all night, gets to lose their shit and dance in the aisles. 

“On the piano, the Professor, Mr. Roy Bittan. Back there on the bass, from Long Branch, New Jersey, Mr. Garry W. Tallent! To my left, on the -- guitar, we got from Asbury Park, New Jersey, weighing in at 165 pounds, Miami Steve! Back on the drums, representing all you folks from North Jersey, the northern end of the state, the Mighty Max! [drum flourish] You know why we call him that! To the far right on the organ, the mysterious Mr. Daniel Federici. To my immediate right, my right hand man, the king of soul, Mr. Clarence Clemons.” Tonight the chosen vehicle is the “Theme from Shaft.” The vamp continues, until:

GIMME TEN!

And they do, with precision. (Count along at home!) You can hear someone in the vicinity of the taper chuckle with respect, while there’s some onstage hijinks we can’t see, the crowd cheers, and then the band…frolics. It’s not the “Rosie” melody but it is delightful! And then they swing back into the heart of the matter. 

“I want to thank everybody for coming down tonight, we really do appreciate it. This is something to you from Asbury Park with love.” It’s a lovely “Sandy,” he does that thing where he alters the last verse to talk about angels on their Harleys, and then without any delay or introduction, there’s the pounding drums that lead into a rollicking rendition “A Love So Fine.” Bruce is digging it, there’s some audible relief, or at least relaxation, and given what we know about “Night” and what happens to this particular number, I really wonder what is going through his head that this is on the setlist, but, like, I’m giving him a break, for this show especially. This is the next song in the encore, it’s been like that for a while.

In the break, you can kind of hear what Bruce is saying, it’s something like, “When you’re playing in a bar, five sets a night, you’re on the fifth set, you get to this groove (Roy grooves), sometimes when you get to this groove, it makes me…” 

Clarence: “It makes you what?”

“IT MAKES ME WANT TO SHOUT!” 

He repeats that a couple of times and then trails off into a Little Richard-esque high trill at least twice, and it sure sounds like everyone is having a lot of fun up there. That’s what this song was for! It borrowed from everyone they loved and turned it into the E Street Rhythm and Blues Revue, something they wrote that can stand up against the other side of the encore. Tonight it’s the first performance of “Sha-la-la” by the Shirelles, which is literally the most perfect thing after “A Love So Fine.” It is a light and poppy version, it would turn into something more muscular later (I’m thinking about Hammersmith, later this year.) “Sha-la-la” was only performed once outside of the ‘75 tour, in 2009 in Hartford.

One more, one more. “Here’s something done by Gary “U.S.” Bonds. If you don’t dance to this one, slap yourself in the face, you may be dead.” He says it matter-of-factly, he is just saying. The crowd counts it in with him before losing their shit, at least that’s what it sounds like to me. The band are relaxed, happy, probably breathing a lot easier, the first show in the books, the beginning of an insane year.

"I'm just a prisoner...of rock and roll!"

He thanks the crowd again, a nod to Miami Steve, and the night is over. The audience won't stop cheering. I wouldn't, would you?

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