Bono on Bruce Springsteen

“Here was a dude who carried himself like Brando, 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 Smith, Elvis Costello, and the Clash. He was the end of long hair, brown rice and bell bottoms. It 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 had just resigned in disgrace. The U.S. had lost its first war. There was going 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.”

“Bruce Springsteen feels familiar to us. But it's not an easy familiarity, is it? Even his band seems to stand taller when he walks in the room. It's complex. He's America's writer, and critic. It's like in Badlands, he's Martin Sheen and Terrence Malick. To be so accessible and so private, there's 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 '60s were over. It was the era of soft-rock infusion. 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.”