For fans of The Boss, his music is linked to our lives, to specific moments that we will always remember. The first time a CD came into the house, in the mid-eighties, when there were hardly any here, it was because my father, Dr. Bombí, while staying in New York, had the idea of buying a discman and a few compacts, among which was the mythical Born in the USA, placed again and again under the sign of technological novelty. The first great concert, at the Camp Nou, the Amnesty International tour in 1988, a mass bath that awakened a vocation devoted to rock in a teenager. The first listening to The river on cassette, and that unsuspected cry...
Or the first concert without the E Street Band, at the Monumental, and later the one with the reunion with the whole band..., and it goes on and on. Or, in between, the reading of the letters with the learning of a language that was much more foreign than now. School newsrooms with impossible dreams sharing the stage. Or reciting the translation of a song as if it were a poem and seeing the surprised faces of the public when they found out who it was from... Sharing.
And then there comes a day when you have children and you know that if you want them to understand what Bruce Springsteen means to you, you will have to go together. Come on.
Catalan version, here
