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Rating: Never did I see scalpers only buying.
True, and impressive. Neither far from the Forum, nor very close, there wasn't a single one saying the classic "guys, want tickets?". All were "buying," with signs or verbally, but only and exclusively "buying." And, probably unaware of the religious devotion of the average Boss fan, I really think they went home empty-handed.
As it happened, even by getting there early and arriving before the gates opened, the place was already packed. After parking the big minivan — which was also fully loaded — very far away, we did our first kilometer just to get to the endless queue in front of the gates. There we enjoyed another solid hour before literally setting foot inside the Forum.
In typical Italian fashion, way too many tickets were sold than allowed (and logically possible), and a good half hour before the concert there wasn't a square millimeter free, not even on the stairs and all escape routes. The organizers, unscrupulous falcons who sooner or later someone will punish (though more likely in the afterlife...), always count on the fact that in Italy the "luck factor" almost never fails.
Middle-aged audience. In fact, pleasantly variable.
Few very young people, mostly thirty- and forty-year-olds, yet quite a few over forty. Happy to be there, but decidedly ill-disposed towards the embarrassing disorganization and malice. Kids swallow everything, but the professional or worker spending 80 euros (or more... with this ticket mafia, for instance, I spent 140...) for the idol of a lifetime is much less tolerant of being made to stand on an emergency staircase just to cash in those three/four thousand extra probable tickets...
Suddenly all the lights go out and a huge music box appears, with childlike/circus-like music, as all music boxes have. It seems incongruous but amusing. The meanings can be varied (mere scenic device? You are the children and we are your toys? Welcome to the circus?...who knows...). "Radio Nowhere" predictably begins to play, and immediately some facts emerge that will be abundantly confirmed during the evening.
The Boss has an enviable level of professionalism and fitness considering his age. The E Street Band is slightly modified. Danny Federici isn't here, having returned to the USA to treat a cancer that had long circulated online as a rumor, which, like many virtual gossip stories, turned out to be a sad truth. Pleasantly absent too is wife Patty, for me one of the rock history’s most useless and unpleasant voices (she's living proof, like Fiction Plane before Police in Turin, that nepotism is a virus showing no mercy...). Of this change — as you've gathered — I don’t really lament much. Replacing Danny is the Seeger Session keyboardist, who makes a professional and wise choice: he doesn't clone Federici. Different sounds and techniques, which here and there leave an apparent sense of emptiness. Big Man Clammons is now old, and it shows: his traditionally bent legs are more so than ever, and there’s some evident difficulty in standing long, or, for example, holding up the baritone sax, which remains on the "sax holder" even when being played. Yet, age aside, the great Clarence performs his role excellently, perhaps even better than on other occasions we've seen him.
The repertoire ranges from the two masterpieces ("Born to Run" and "Darkness"), well-honored, to some even older gems for the enjoyment of older and pure fans (all, perhaps?). As expected, the two "e-streetless" albums ("Human Touch" and "Lucky Town"), and unfortunately "Tunnel of Love," which was honored elsewhere with the interpretation of the title track, were both overlooked. Naturally, several tracks from "Magic" were duly honored, which in a "live" dimension gain considerable charm. Instead, the two tracks from "The Rising," received with ovations even beyond expectations, remind us of an album perhaps to be re-listened to and reevaluated, as back then, perhaps due to a snobbish attack, it seemed nice but somewhat pandering.
The overall impression is of the great energy from a band that — however one thinks of it — has contributed significantly to writing important pages in rock history. It's also about a rock singer-songwriter who knows how to live his legend to the fullest, without pandering or being pathetic (although I personally would avoid the slicked-back hair and embrace its whiteness like an anti-Berlusconi stance, but there it is, and that's truly a micro-problem). An artist who knows how to strategically and intelligently calibrate choices. An important man, author, and musician.
Undoubtedly, there remains the bittersweet taste of aging, that amusing and melancholic feeling of monumentality. In short, at times you fear witnessing what would be an excellent, qualitatively and professionally top-notch summary concert, worthy of Las Vegas. But the Boss won't go to Las Vegas to do a Céline Dion show.
And his secret, perhaps, is just that.
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