So Long, Clarence...Thanks

June 7, 2009 was a cool night. Chilly enough to need a jacket but it was clear and that would mean daylight would last awhile.  It was only a few weeks before the spring equinox. It was also a holiday weekend, and Springsteen was in town with the E Street Band. It was the second night of a two night gig, and the stay in Stockholm had been interrupted by a soccer match between Sweden and Denmark between the two shows.

The site was in the stadium that was built for the Stockholm-hosted Olympic games back in the early 1900's. Europe is like that, saving its buildings and using them over and over. The stadium was made of red brick, like the famous Stockholm City Hall where they host the Nobel Prize dinner. It was my first time inside the place and while it was dated, with bench seats made of wood, it was clean and had a classic feel, much like Boston's Fenway or Chicago's Wrigley have.

The crowd was friendly and ready for a good time. Springsteen is well received in Sweden and Bruce has visited this country on every European tour. The common man themes of Bruce's songs translate well here in a country that believes in working for the common good.

The stands were about 3/4 filled, but the field was packed. The crowd sang along when Nils opened the set with a traditional Swedish song on the accordion. It was a new E Street band for me, as Danny had been replaced and Mighty Max was on the DL list due to heart complications. Max's son, Jay was the drummer tonight and, pardon the pun, the band never missed a beat. In fact, that night was the night I decided that the E Street Band was the best band in rock.

Like I said, the light was hanging around for a long time. As the set moved along the skies were taking that cobalt and damask hue that signals sunny skies the next day as well as the on coming night. The band was playing "Jungleland" and the Big Man was beginning his signature solo, a solo that took 16 hours to hone during the Born to Run sessions.

I had remarked to Eva when the Band came onstage how weak the Big Man looked. He had a noticeable limp and he was obviously in pain. His tone was clear, however, and the saxophone was resonating off the century old brick facade. For the "Jungleland" solo it was a mournful sound, perfect for the tragic outcome of the Magic Rat and the Barefoot Girl. As I sat there listening to the Big Man's solo, one that I heard a hundred times before, familiar enough to know every note yet each one a little different,I wondered how many of those he had left in him? How many more tours could his body stand? The solo tonight was plaintive beyond its scripted necessity. Tonight, the saxophone player of the E Street Band was also playing as if this might be one of the last times.

That was the last time I saw Clarence Clemons in person. Today, Father's Day, I woke up to find that Clarence had passed away from complications of a stroke he suffered a week ago.

Music is an amazing potion to the human animal. It allows us to travel through time. We can listen to it in the present and it can whisk us to moments in our past and portend the possibilities of the future, remarkably, all at the same time. It allows youngsters to act beyond their years and the more mature to act like kids. It can make the lame dance and allow the lamest kid in school to be cool.

Clarence Clemons was the final piece in the Kid from Freehold's dream. The sounds that had been absorbed from his pre-teens were now ready to percolate into the sound that became "Born to Run". No longer would there be another effort where Springsteen would "sound like" a Dylan or any other artist. In fact, from this point on, artists would be accused of sounding like or ripping off him.

Clemons was the not just the completion of a sound, he was the foil that Springsteen could work off. Remember, at this time, Springsteen and the band were skinny white kids from the suburbs of NYC, the Jersey Shore, known more for its summer vacations on the boardwalk than any mean streets. Clemons was the big, black guy that not only gave the band "street cred" but was the perfect opposite to Springsteen. While Bruce wore tattered jeans and leather jackets, Clemons would be resplendent in pimp white, head to toe.

In fact, Clemons was as dominant a figure in the stage show as Bruce. Their give and take pantomimes and stage dances were intrinsic parts of every E Street show. The entire history of the Clemons/Springsteen shtick is summed up in the iconic photo of the "Born to Run" album cover. (above)

In fact, in the song "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out", the lyric "When the change was made uptown and the Big Man joined the band..." is exactly what happened. The story of the storm, the gust of wind, the door blowing off the hinges when Clemons first meets Springsteen is certainly embellished. Like any good legend, facts have been added and colored and no rendition of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" is complete without that story. I will say that growing up in a beach town in the Asbury Park area, I know that the wind can gust that hard. I've got broken storm windows stories of my own to tell.

Clemons is the second E Street member to pass on. Danny Federici succumbed to melanoma in 2008. Federici was replaced by Charlie Giordano, making the easy transition from the Sessions Band to the E Street fold.

Federici had the nickname "The Phantom", earned for his escape from a police bust. The moniker could also be because of his low key stage presence. However, the Big Man is such a large part of the stage shows over the last 40 years, you have to wonder how the band will replace him?

Springsteen always surprises with these moves, none more than Nils Lofgren stepping in as second guitar when Steve Van Zandt took a leave. But the "Master of the Universe" will be difficult, not just for the sax playing, but the persona.

My feeling is that the E Street Band is like the Yankees, the players' names change but the pinstripes continue on. Like a Ruth, Gerhig, Dimaggio or Mantle, Clarence Clemons will be always a part of the E Street team, but his position will be taken by someone else.

As a empathetic person, I can justify the loss of Clemons as he is now free of the pain that has wracked his body for the last decade. As a fan, I feel the great loss of knowing the Big Man will no longer be on tour. As a fan, I can listen to his sax playing on the many recorded songs of the Band that I possess. I can even re-live the stage shows on the DVD's. Clarence Clemons will always be remembered by Springsteen fans.

The mischievous side of me wishes that when St. Peter opens the Pearly Gates to have the Big Man take his place next to his hero, King Curtis, in that Heavenly Band, a stormy gust of wind comes up and rips a gate off the hinges. It would only be fitting.

Rest in Peace, Clarence, you have earned that. It's going to be tough, but we'll try to carry on without you.