We want to be great. Like Neil says in his book, “Be great or be gone.” We want to be great, we want to be important in your life. That was all that mattered to me. I didn’t care if I was going to make it rich or famous, but I wanted to be great more than anything else and I wanted to be important in your life. Because you keep us in search of the force that reignites our gifts, our ability to make you want to move, to dance, to love, to make love, to be angry, to act. When we play, we want the hair to stand up on your arms, we want you to feel the glory and we want you to be glad of being alive. And really, at the end of the day, that’s all there is to it.
And to think that I doubted for a while what made me want to write about why creativity is a virtue, and why artists can be just as important in this world as moral saints. Is that some account of the importance and value of art, or what?
I love you, Bruce.
Update: Now I’m remembering this quote from the Remnick profile and thinking how apt it is:
Thousands of fans, many of whom had been waiting outside since morning, were allowed to enter the stadium grounds at six o’clock for a show that would not begin until ten. I noticed a few young Spaniards carrying a sign, in English, reading, “Bruce, Thanks for Making Our Lives Better.” I tried to imagine a sign like that for—whom? Lou Reed? AC/DC? Bon Jovi? (“Richie Sambora, Thanks for making our lives better.” Doubtful.) The ultra-sincere interchange between Springsteen and his fans, which looks treacly to the uninitiated and the uninterested, is what distinguishes him and his performances.