The first time the Boss payed Hammersmith he literally threw up with nerves - and it was a career-making show. This night the artist was late - again he threw up outside and again it was a career-making show.
Hammersmith with the downstairs seats ripped out makes for a fine wooden-floored dancehall, perfect for a boot-stomping hoedown. The deep-toned boo-ing from the restless crowd in front turned out to be the faithful calling
"Br-oo-oo-ce". The whole evening was a wonderful sweep through American folk history, playing the blue-collar songs of the people in blue-grass/jazz/blues/folksey styles which made the most of every member of the 20-piece band. The audience had a great time too, not caring that we were being "worked" by a master. We sang, we cheered, we stomped along - was this really London? You betcha! For "Pay Me My Money Down" the band exited the stage one by one, leaving us to sing the chorus on our own for a whole ten minutes. Our nerve didn't break and sure enough the Boss came back to reclaim the show as if not quite believing what he'd just heard. Could barely speak for a week after that one.