He's Not The Boss, He Works For Us Bono's Induction Speech

Oh man, Bruce is a very unusual rock star, isn't he? 
Really, I mean, 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 drub busts, no blood changes in Switzerland. Even more remarkable, 
no golfing! No bad hair period, even in the 80's. No wearing of dresses in 
videos. But there was those fingerless gloves in the 80's. 
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, arn't they? 
If they dont kill themselves first. Well, you cant be a big legend 
and not be dysfunctional. Its not allowed. You should at least have lost your 
looks. Everyone else has. Have you seen them? [gestures backstage] 
Its 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 your were another songwriter. Bruce has played ever bar in the USA, 
and ever stadium. Credibility--you couldnt have more, unless you were dead. 
But Bruce Springsteen, you always knew, was not gonna die stupid. 
he didnt buy the mythology that screwed so many people. 
Instead he created an alternative mythology, one where orinary lives became 
extraordinary and heroic. Bruce Springsteen feels familiar to us. 
But its not an wasy familiarity, is it? Even his band seem to stand taller 
when he walks in the room. Its complex. Hes Americas writer, and critic. 
Its like in "Badlands", hes Martin Sheen and Terence Malick. 
To be so accessible and so private, thers a rubric. 
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 fuck with you!

In 1974, I was 14. Even I knew the 60's were over. It was the era of soft-rock 
and fusion. The Beatles were 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 black leather jackets from 
the Fonz. [sings:] "Oh, the greasers, they tramp the streets nd 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. 
But he was something new, too. he was the first whiff of Scorsese, 
the first hint of Patti Amith, Elvis Costello and the Clash. 
He was the end of long hair, brown rice, and bell bottoms. 
he 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 US had lost its first war. There was goingin 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 aint 
that young anymore," ecause it took guts to be romantic now. 
Knowing you could lose didnt mean you still didnt 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 ever great rock group is kind of like astarting a religion. 
And Bruce surrounded himself with fellow believers. 
The E Street wasnt 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, Maz 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 manager, his producer, his confessor? 
You call him the Boss. And Springsteen didnt just marry a gorgeous red-headed 
woman from the Jersey Shore. She could sing, she could write, and she could tell 
the Boss off. And thats Patti, right there [points].

For me and the rest of the U2-ers, it wasnt 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, its Bruce Springsteen.' 
Integrity can be a yoke, a pain in the ass, when your songs are taking you 
to a part of town where people dont 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! Pissed as a fart! 
I had to go back to the book of instructions, scrath the bit out about 
how you held yourself in public. By the way, that was, on a personal note, 
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 wasnt in chaos or entropy. It was in love.

We call him "The Boss". He works for us. More than a boss--hes the owner. 
Because more than anyone else, Bruce Springsteen owns America's heart.