As the Boss himself explains in the insider documentary “Road Diary: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band,” there are two things essential to the rehearsal process: “One, you’ve got to shake the cobwebs off the band. Two, you’ve got to find your set list.”
Early on in this rousing and unapologetically celebratory yet contemplative film from director Thom Zimny (who has collaborated with Springsteen on a number of projects, including “Springsteen on Broadway” and “Letter to You”), Springsteen has assembled the E Street Band for a series of rehearsals before they go on tour for the first time in six years. Like a coach announcing the starting lineup, he reads from a handwritten list, and the titles sound like chapters in an American novel:
“No Surrender”
“Ghosts”
“Letter to You”
“Promised Land”
“Last Man Standing”
“Backstreets”
“She’s the One”
“Glory Days”
For even the casual Springsteen fan, just hearing those titles is a pre-goosebumps moment.
“Road Diary” kicks off with Springsteen telling us that after the world shut down due to the COVID pandemic, “I made a promise to myself, to my fans and the band, that if we got through this, I’d throw the biggest party I could.” We eavesdrop on Springsteen as he conducts rehearsals with the band, which includes old hands such as Stevie Van Zandt, Roy Bittan and Max Weinberg, who have been along for this ride for a half-century, and enormously talented new additions, e.g., percussionist Anthony Almonte.
At first, there’s an almost leisurely paced vibe; we see a marked contrast between a present-day rehearsal for “She’s the One,” which sounds like a ballad, and the manic, energized version the band plays in archival footage from the 1970s. “When we started rehearsals, it was all a little bit casual,” notes Van Zandt, with Weinberg adding, “We were playing everything extremely slow.”
Whereas the Bruce of 1980 would conduct rehearsals and sound checks that would last forever, he’s now keeping it short and sweet, telling his longtime manager and producer Jon Landau, “I’m gonna go home,” after just a couple of hours of run-throughs. Van Zandt leans into his role as the consigliere of the group (sorry but I couldn’t resist the “Sopranos” reference), leading the rehearsal jam sessions after Bruce has left for the day.
Not to worry. Once Springsteen and the band hit the road and play one jam-packed arena after another, they’re in prime form. (There’s a reason the E Street Band was inducted separately into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2014, a decade and a half after Bruce was voted in. Even after the tragic losses of the great keyboardist Danny Federici and the legendary sax player Clarence Clemons, they’re one of the greatest bands in the annals of rock.)
Director Zimny wisely allows for plenty of concert footage, as well as a treasure trove of grainy old celluloid memories, as when we see the progression of touring vehicles from the 1970s, from a club wagon to a rickety old bus to a GMC motor home, where the tables could be converted into tiny bunks, and Clarence Clemons would cook up breakfast in the mini-kitchen.
Another highlight: the overseas segments. Springsteen has always seemed like a quintessential homegrown rocker to me, from the autobiographical works such as “Rosalita (Come Out Tonight),” “Born to Run,” “Tenth Avenue Freezeout” and “Glory Days” to the catalog of powerful protest anthems, e.g., “Born in the USA,” “American Skin (41 Shots),” “Roulette,” “Death to My Hometown,” “Lost in the Flood” and “How Can a Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live?” The Boss is a poet with an axe, and sometimes an axe to grind — but whether he’s lamenting a tragedy or embracing the best of life, his works seem singularly American, through and through.
But as we’re reminded in interviews with fans from Norway, England, Germany, Ireland, Spain, the Boss has a global reach. Superfan Jimi Coughlan of Ireland sums up the fraternity/sorority feeling of Springsteen fandom: “When we’re together, we’re the best of friends. We … know each other, we connect with each other, it’s like we have been friends for a lifetime. … We’ve all connected because of Bruce.”
Bruce Springsteen is 75 years old and is well aware he is 50 years and counting down the road, yet he vows he’ll keep on playing “until the wheels come off.” For now, Bruce and the E Street Band can still pin your ears back and send your rock ‘n’ roll soul soaring to the heavens.