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Bruce Springsteen @ LA Sports Arena, 10/30/07

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My heart wasn't saying Bruuuuuuuuce, it was booing.

The biggest cliche in amateur criticism is to say "I liked his older stuff better". Bruce Springsteen is supposed to be held on the same level as Bob Dylan, Neil Young, or Johnny Cash. However, if one is to keep it real, the songs The Boss released after the mid '80s don't hold up to contemporaries like Tom Waits or Tom Petty.

Seriously, after the Born in the USA album came out, what new Springsteen tunes do you walk around and sing to yourself? "Streets of Philadelphia"? no. "The Rising"? no. Anything off The Ghost of Tom Joad. Hell no.

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So when a concert contains an overdose of new material off a record that, sorry, does not sound like it was created by a legend who penned "Rosalita" or "Thunder Road", how is one to expect an unbelievably memorable show? One can't, and one shouldn't.

The show started with a lame procession of black clad mourners carrying a casket to the front of the stage. Out popped a hand. Little Steven handed it a guitar, and out sprung 58-year-old Bruce Springsteen fake-dusting off his vest and shirt (video).

The band kicked into the radio friendly new single "Radio Nowhere" whose chorus asks "is anyone alive out there", which was a good question since the Boomers in the crowd looked like they had all seen better days.

And sadly the band on the stage was in the same boat.