Even for a nonfan, Springsteen memorable

I've seen a lot of concerts in my day, and figured I'd like to go and see Bruce Springsteen (and the E Street Band) the evening of Aug. 16, just because he's 58 years old and has become a cultural icon. I'd never bought one of his records, never seen him previously, never really liked his singing voice and had become somewhat jaded by rumors that he was a draft dodger (not true), and the impression that he panders to the left as a function of notoriety (probably more true than not).

From a cultural standpoint, I recall his bursting on the scene out of nowhere in the fall of 1975, when he scored covers on both Time and Newsweek following the release of his album, "Born to Run."

As a sophomore in college, I thought my musical appreciation and savvy were pretty hip, and indeed some of my friends from the New Jersey area had his debut album, "Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J.," so there was a vague familiarity. But for the most part, I was caught completely off-guard and couldn't understand what all the fuss was about.

There was that voice, so raucous, more screaming than singing, hoarse, bordering on the obnoxious. Or at least so I thought at the time. But certain contemporary music had come to eschew the quality of voice, emphasizing instead lyric content, rebellion, attitude and creativity. (Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix and others were not exactly known for their vocal prowess.) So that really shouldn't have been an issue.

Springsteen's lyrics were probably more than I could handle — occasionally subject to a profusion of imagery, stream of consciousness, more intellectually challenging than my 19-year-old brain was accustomed to — to the point of annoyance. But that was my problem and shouldn't have been an issue either.

Musically, I was at least able to recognize that the Springsteen sound was new. The E Street Band lineup (which got sparse recognition on earlier albums — as opposed to live performances) featured highly talented instrumentalists, two keyboards, several stringed instruments and complex orchestration that added tremendous weight and emotional content to some of the material.

Most of the songs did have a catchy hook of some sort, and many were enhanced by swirling, dreamlike embellishments that reflected various moods and lyrical direction. But, again, it was too much, and my preferences remained R&B, straight rock 'n' roll and acoustic — styles I was raised on and that I understood.

Fast-forward to 2008, and we have Springsteen coming to town with what is essentially a 35-year body of work. He remains a critical darling and, despite everything I mentioned above, is renowned for capturing the essence of "middle-class values," proactive liberal causes, if not protest. ("Born in the U.S.A.," contrary to popular belief, has nothing to do with patriotism.)

Individual members of the E Street Band have become heroes to many. They include Clarence Clemons as The Big Man with the huge sax sound; Nils Lofgren as virtuoso guitarist; original guitarist Steven Van Zandt, who portrayed Silvio Dante on "The Sopranos"; and drummer Max Weinberg, who became director of Conan O'Brien's "Late Night" band.

I've certainly warmed to Springsteen over the years, like much of his music, but have never really described myself as a fan.

His live performances are legendary, so it was with interest that my wife and I showed up that Saturday evening at the North Charleston Coliseum.

The sold-out crowd was standing on pins and needles with excitement as Springsteen took the stage shortly after 8 o'clock.

Greeting the audience warmly, he offered a touch of local flavor by opening the show with a little "beach music" by covering the Swingin' Medallions' "Double Shot (Of my Baby's Love)."

The Swingin' Medallions hailed from Greenwood, and whereas their style isn't exactly beach music, it was the thought that counted.

The mood was set and the party started, sending the audience into a frenzy that would last three solid hours, leaving the band and everyone else spent.

I've rarely seen a crowd worked into such a state, which was joyous and pushed to further extremes by wildly inspiring crescendos of music, Springsteen's intimate audience interaction and the physicality of this 58-year-old man's performance.

He was particularly kind and attentive to children and teenagers near the stage, and at one point had a lad sit right next to him to help out with vocals. I hate to gush, but it really was some of the most fun I've ever had at any concert.

Afterward, while we were pulling out of the parking lot, an older gentleman two cars ahead of us stopped moving.

As I pulled past, I noticed that he appeared unconscious, and then his foot slipped off the brake and he started moving ahead at idle speed through the crowd until running into a parked limo.

Thankfully, no one was hurt, but the man didn't budge.

His car was locked. Authorities broke in and pulled him out, unresponsive, in full cardiac arrest. We administered CPR until the first response team arrived and he was taken to a hospital.

The curtain had definitely come down for the evening.

Edward M. Gilbreth is a Charleston physician. Reach him at edwardgilbreth@comcast.net.