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ROCK'N'ROLL
HALL OF FAME 1999
THE
FOURTEENTH ANNUAL INDUCTION DINNER at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel,
New York City Bono inducting Bruce Springsteen into the Rock
and Roll Hall of Fame (Here's the speech: "He hasn't done the
things most rock stars do. He got rich and famous, but never
embarrassed himself with all that success, did he? No drug busts,
no blood changes in Switzerland. Even more remarkable, no golfing!
No bad hair period, even in the '80s. No wearing of dresses
in videos ... No embarrassing movie roles, no pet snakes, no
monkeys. No exhibitions of his own paintings. No public brawling
or setting himself on fire ... "Rock stars are supposed to make
soap operas of their lives, aren't they? If they don't kill
themselves first. Well, you can't be a big legend and not be
dysfunctional. It's not allowed. You should at least have lost
your looks. Everyone else has. Have you seen them? It's like
Madame Tussaud's back there. "Then there's Bruce Springsteen.
Handsome mother with those brooding brown eyes, eyes that could
see through America. And a catastrophe of great songs, if you
were another songwriter. Bruce has played every bar in the U.S.A.,
and every stadium. Credibility -- you couldn't have more, unless
you were dead. But Bruce Springsteen, you always knew, was not
gonna die stupid. He didn't buy the mythology that screwed so
many people. Instead he created an alternative mythology, one
where ordinary lives became extraordinary and heroic. Bruce
Springsteen, you were familiar to us. But it's not an easy familiarity,
is it? Even his band seems to stand taller when he walks in
the room. It's complex. He's America's writer, and critic. It's
like in 'Badlands,' he's Martin Sheen and Terrence Malick. To
be so accessible and so private ... But then again, he is an
Irish-Italian, with a Jewish-sounding name. What more do you
want? Add one big African sax player, and no one in this room
is gonna (mess around) with you! "In 1974, I was 14. Even I
knew the '60s were over. It was the era of soft-rock and fusion.
The Beatles was gone, Elvis was in Vegas. What was goin' on?
Nothin' was goin' on. Bruce Springsteen was comin' on, saving
music from the phonies, saving lyrics from the folkies, saving
leather jackets from the Fonz. (Sings) 'Now the greasers, they
tramp the streets and get busted for sleeping on the beaches
all night, and them boys in their high heels, ah Sandy, their
skins are so white. Oh Sandy, love me tonight, and I promise
I'll love you forever.' In Dublin, Ireland, I knew what he was
talking about. Here was a dude who carried himself like Brando,
and Dylan, and Elvis. If John Steinbeck could sing, if Van Morrison
could ride a Harley-Davidson .... It was something new, too.
He was the first whiff of Scorsese, the first hint of Patti
Smith, Elvis Costello and the Clash. He was the end of long
hair, brown rice and bell bottoms. It was the end of the 20-minute
drum solo. It was good night, Haight- Ashbury; hello, Asbury
Park. "America was staggering when Springsteen appeared. The
president just resigned in disgrace, the U.S. had lost its first
war. There was going to be no more oil in the ground. The days
of cruising and big cars were supposed to be over. But Bruce
Springsteen's vision was bigger than a Honda, it was bigger
than a Subaru. Bruce made you believe that dreams were still
out there, but after loss and defeat, they had to be braver,
not just bigger. He was singing 'Now you're scared and you're
thinking that maybe we ain't that young anymore,' because it
took guts to be romantic now. Knowing you could lose didn't
mean you still didn't take the ride. In fact, it made taking
the ride all the more important. "Here was a new vision, and
a new community. More than a community, because every great
rock group is kind of like starting a religion. and Bruce surrounded
himself with fellow believers. The E Street -- it wasn't just
a great rock group, or a street gang. It was a brotherhood.
Zealots like Steve Van Zandt, the bishop Clarence Clemons, the
holy Roy Bittan, crusaders Danny Federici, Max Weinberg, Garry
Tallent and later Nils Lofgren. And Jon Landau, Jon Landau,
Jon Landau, Jon Landau, Jon Landau. What do you call a man who
makes his best friend his manager, his producer, his confessor?
You call him the Boss. And Springsteen didn't just marry a gorgeous
red-headed woman from the Jersey Shore. She could sing, she
could write, and she could tell the Boss off. "For me and the
rest of the U2-ers, it wasn't just the way he described the
world. It was the way he negotiated it. It was a map, a book
of instructions on how to be in the business but not of it.
Generous is a word you could use to describe the way he treated
us. Decency is another. But these words can box you in. I remember
when Bruce was headlining Amnesty International's tour for prisoners
of conscience, I remember thinking 'Wow, if ever there was a
prisoner of conscience, it's Bruce Springsteen.' Integrity can
be a yoke, a pain...when your songs are taking you to a part
of town where people don't expect to see you. "At some point
I remember riding in an elevator with gentleman Bruce, where
he just stared straight ahead of himself, and completely ignored
me. I was crushed. Only when he walked into the doors as they
were opening, did I realize the impossible was happening. My
god, Bruce Springsteen, the Buddha of my youth, is plastered!
Drunk as a skunk! ... I have to go back to the book of instructions,
scratch the bit out about how you held yourself in public. By
the way, that was a great relief. "Something was going on, though.
As a fan I could see that my hero was beginning to rebel against
his own public image. Things got even more interesting on 'Tunnel
of Love,' when he started to deface it. A remarkable bunch of
tunes, where our leader starts having a go at himself, and the
hypocrisy of his own heart, before anyone else could. But the
tabloids could never break news on Bruce Springsteen. Because
his fans... he had already told us everything in the songs.
We knew he was spinning. We could feel him free-falling. But
it wasn't in chaos or entropy. It was in love. "We call him
the Boss. Well that's a bunch of crap. He's not the boss. He
works for us. More than a boss, he's the owner, because more
than anyone else, Bruce Springsteen owns America's heart."
Bruce
Springsteen:
Remember: You always want an Irishman to give your induction
speech ... I knew I always liked you, Bono. You were scaring
me a little bit there --- I wasn't that good -- but I like the
part about my good looks. Anyway, let me warn you. The records
took two years, the show's three hours, so the speech may take
a little while. I stood on this stage and I inducted Roy Orbison,
and Creedence Clearwater Revival, and Bob Dylan -- artists whose
music was a critical part of my own like -- and tonight I hope
that my music served my audience half as well. And if I've succeeded
in doing that, it's been with the help of many, many kindred
spirits along the way. I'd like to thank my mother, Adele, for
that slushy Christmas Eve ... for that Christmas Eve and night
like the one outside, when we stood outside the music store
and I pointed to that Sunburst guitar and she had that 60 bucks
and I said, "I need that one, Ma." She got me -- she got me
what I needed, and she protected me and provided for me on a
thousand other days and nights. So ... As importantly, she gave
me a sense of work as something that was joyous and that filled
you with pride and self-regard, and that committed you to your
world. Thanks Mom. This is yours tonight. Take is home as a
small return on the investment you made in your son. Momma ...
The Italian side of the family ... Momma ... Now my dad, he
passed away this year, but I've gotta thank him because ---
what would I conceivably have written about without him? I mean,
you can imagine that if everything had gone great between us,
we would have had disaster. I would have written just happy
songs -- and I tried it in the early '90s and it didn't work;
the public didn't like it. He never said much about my music,
except that his favorite songs were the ones about him. And
that was enough, you know? Anyway, I put on his work clothes
and I went to work. It was the way that I honored him. My parents'
experience forged my own. They shaped my politics, and they
alerted me to what is at stake when you're born in the U.S.A.
I miss you Dad. A lot of other people: Marion and Tex Vinyard.
They took me under their wing when I was 15. They opened up
their home to a bunch of rock and roll misfits and let us make
a lot of noise and practice all night long. Thanks Marion. Carl
"Tinker" West, another one of my early managers, whose support
I couldn't have done without. He introduced me to Mike Appel,
and Mike kicked the doors down when they needed kicking. And
I consider him my friend; I want to say Mike, thanks for everything
-- mostly everything --- and thanks for being my guest here
tonight. I'm glad you're here with me. Mike introduced me to
the world of Columbia Records, which has been my home for the
past 25 years -- from the early days of John Hammond and Clive
Davis to the high-rollin' years of Walter Yetnikoff and Al Teller,
to the present with my friends Tommy Mottola and Donny Ienner.
They created a conduit for a lifetime of thoughts and ideas,
a place where I was ... I felt safe and supported and encouraged
to do my best and my truest work. And I've heard enough record
company horror stories right from this stage to realize, to
appreciate the fact that I don't have one. And for that I've
gotta thank all the men and women at Columbia Records around
the world, past and present. Thank you very much for your efforts.
I've gotta thank my co-producer, Chuck Plotkin, (and) engineer
Toby Scott for their sustained contributors to my recorded work.
They remained in the saddle as often years went by, wondering
if we'd ever get the music or if they'd ever get a royalty check.
They kept their cool and their creativity ... of course they're
basket cases now ... but we remain friends and great working
partners. And no mention of my records would be complete without
Bob Clearmountain, a great mixer who helped me bring my music
to a wider audience. I want to thank my tour director, George
Travis, and the great crews he's assembled on the road over
the years. Thank you George. I want to thank my agents, Barry
Bell and Frank Barsalona, for a great job. All right ... Thank
you ... Now the lawyers -- gotta thank them. Peter Parcher and
Steve Hayes. They protected me and my music for 22 years. I
appreciate it. This next one's a little tough. Allen Grubman
and Artie Indursky, names familiar to many in this room. They're
the money men. How can I put this? These are great and complicated
and misunderstood Americans ... They're men that are entrusted
with a very, very important task. For the folks that don't know,
the money man goes to the record company, and he's in charge
of bringing back the pink Cadillac. Well, when Allen and Artie
go, they bring back the pink Cadillac ... and the blue Cadillac
... and the yellow Cadillac ... and the red Cadillac ... and
the pink Cadillac with the whitewalls ... but then they take
the blue Cadillac ... and they take the hubcaps off the yellow
Cadillac ... but that still leaves you with a few Cadillacs.
And they make sure that neither you nor themselves, of course,
are gonna be broke when you're riding in the black Cadillac.
So ... they do that well. I've gotta thank Barbara Carr for
her love and loyalty and dedication. Couldn't get along without
you Barb. My friend Dave Marsh: Thank you so much. And oh, the
next guy. Yeah. This is ... Jon Landau, or as I sometimes call
him, Jon "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" Landau. I've seen the
future of rock 'n' roll management, and its name is Jon Landau
... I had to return the favor there. But that was -- that quote
was managing, it was a mite burdensome for me. But as he often
said, "That's your job." But Jon's given me something beyond
friendship and beyond guidance: his intelligence, his sense
of the truth, his recognition of my intelligence. His creative
ability as a producer and editor -- speechwriter earlier this
evening -- his ability to see through to the heart of matters,
both professional and personal, and the love that he's given
me has altered my life forever. What I hope to give to my fans
with my music -- a greater sense of themselves and and greater
freedom -- he with his talents and his abilities has done that
for me. There's no thank you tonight that's gonna do the job,
and it's a debt that I can't repay -- and one I treasure always.
Thank you Jon. I love you. I also want to thank Barbara Landau,
and Kate and Charlie, for sharing Jon with me over the years.
I know it hasn't been easy. Now, last but not least, the men
and women -- the mighty men and women --- of the E Street Band.
Oh Lord ... Oh Lord ... who I have reeducated and rededicated,
reanimated, resuscitated and reinvigorated with the power, the
magic, the mystery, the ministry of rock 'n' roll. Vini Lopez,
Boom Carter -- early drummers of the band. Davey Sancious. Nils
Lofgren, the most overqualified second guitarist in show business.
He plays 10 times better than me and he still wanders over to
hear my solos when I play. I guess he's checking to see if I'm
getting any better. Danny Federici, the most instinctive and
natural musician I ever met and the only member of the band
who can reduce me to a shouting mess. I love you Danny. Your
organ and accordion playing brought the boardwalks of Central
and South Jersey alive in my music. Thank you. Garry Tallent.
Southern man, my lovely friend, bass player, rock 'n' roll aficionado,
whose quiet and dignity graced my band and my life. Thank you
Garry. Roy Bittan. Roy's playing formed the signature sound
of some of my greatest records. He can play anything. He's always
there for me. His emotional generosity and his deep personal
support mean a great, great deal to me. Thank you Roy. Max Weinberg
-- Mighty Max. Star of the Conan O'Brien show. Conan ain't too
bad either ... Max found a place where Bernard Purdie, Buddy
Rich and Keith Moon intersected and he made it his own. I ask
and he delivers for me night after night. Thank you Max. Stevie
Van Zandt. For those of you who have seen "The Sopranos" and
are worried that that's what Steve is like ... that's what he's
like. He's a lifetime rock 'n' roll friendship. We did it all,
you know. Great songwriter, producer, great guitarist. We haven't
played together in 15 years, and if it's up to me, that won't
ever happen again. I love you Steve. Patti Scialfa. She busted
the boys' club, big time. Oh ... It went like this: "Okay fellas.
There's gonna be a woman in the band. We need someone to sing
all the high parts. How complicated can it get?" Well, a nice
paparazzi photo of me in my Jockey shorts on a balcony in Rome
... 10 of the best years of my life ... Evan, Jessie and Sam,
three children genealogically linked to the E Street Band ...
tell the rest of the story. Everybody ... everybody wants to
know how I feel about the band. Hell, I married one of 'em.
Thank you baby. You hit all the high notes. You're tougher than
the rest. Oh now ... last but not least, Clarence Clemons. That's
right. You want to be like him but you can't, you know. The
night I met Clarence, he got up on stage (and) a sound came
out of his horn that seemed to rattle the glasses behind the
bar, and threatened to blow out the back wall. The door literally
blew off the club in a storm that night, and I knew I'd found
my sax player. But there was something else, something -- something
happened when we stood side by side. Some ... some ... some
energy, some unspoken story. For 15 years Clarence has been
a source of myth and light and enormous strength for me on stage.
He has filled my heart so many night -- so many nights -- and
I love it when he wraps me in those arms at the end of the night.
That night we first stood together, I looked over at C and it
looked like his head reached into the clouds. And I felt like
a mere mortal scurrying upon the earth, you know. But he always
lifted me up. Way, way, way up. Together we told a story of
the possibilities of friendship, a story older than the ones
that I was writing and a story I could never have told without
him at my side. I want to thank you, Big Man, and I love you
so much. So, as Stevie Van Zandt says: "Rock 'n' roll, it's
a band thing." And that includes you, the audience. Thank you
for giving me access and entrance into your lives, and I hope
that I've been a good companion. But right now, my wife, my
great friends, my great collaborators, my great band: Your presence
tonight honors me, and I wouldn't be standing up here tonight
without you, and I can't stand up here tonight with you. Please
join me. Oh Jonny ... you too.
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the
Offenbach-Concert:
