Boss Time.

I’ll skip back to some Wembley highlights as of tomorrow, but tonight I wanted to post from the Glasgow gig that transpired three days later. I think I calculated that seventeen songs were changed in the set-list, which is more than half the concert. Bruce also upped his time on stage to a staggering three and a half hours. (He joked towards the end during “Shout” that “I’ve gotta get home. I can feel a heart-attack coming on. I’m sixty fucking three!”) Anyway, this was a request early on in the show for my favourite song from his first album, and a song that easily makes my top ten: It’s Hard To Be A Saint In The City.

Confession time: I’ve spent most of the last six months exiting my house in the morning to the sound of this track. If you want a confidence boost and to feel fucking cool, roaring along to the opening lyrics can’t be beaten:

I had skin like leather and the diamond-hard look of a cobra
I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a supernova
I could walk like Brando right into the sun
Then dance just like a Casanova
With my blackjack and jacket and hair slicked sweet
Silver star studs on my duds just like a Harley in heat
When I strut down the street I could hear its heart beat
The sisters fell back and said, “Don’t that man look pretty.”
The cripple on the corner cried out, “Nickels for your pity.”
Them gasoline boys downtown sure talk gritty
It’s so hard to be a saint in the city.

Don’t miss the ferocious, frantic, orgasmic drum-guitar duel at the end.

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