He always projected an eerily otherworldly aura even when
you saw him in the flesh, and his music reflected that. Even when you felt that
you knew him--as people often do when they are fans of a particular artist—you
didn’t. Like any genius, he was a man out of time and space who did not move
with the rest of the world but instead created his own. This much was recognizable
instantly.
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Goodnight Sweet Prince
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Posted by LisaF at Sunday, April 24, 2016 0 comments
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Going Back to The River
I wasn’t even supposed to be at the Spectrum on Tuesday,
December 9, 1980. My original plan was to catch Bruce at the Boston Garden on December
15 or 16, but between exam schedules and difficulty getting a ticket, I had to
settle for an 8-hour bus ride to Philadelphia. I had never really been to
Philly before, though I grew up only a couple hours’ drive from the City of
Brotherly Love. And I had only traveled long distance by bus a handful of
times. This trip was definitely going to be an adventure.
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Posted by LisaF at Tuesday, February 23, 2016 1 comments
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