A record. A Ticket. And A Time Machine

I was 20 years old in 1985 and living in a foreign country. I think about my own 2 sons today, they are 22 and 20, and the idea of them living overseas at that age is unimaginable to me. I’m not sure if they – or I – could make it. But back then, things were different. Simpler, for sure. We weren’t as connected as we are today, and I had the structure of the Army. I also had an amazing group of friends who loved exploring the country and going to concerts. All these memories I’ve been unpacking lately are what led to the Retro Spin Chronicles.

By the summer of 1985, Born In The U.S.A. had already taken over the world! With seven top-10 hits (tying with Michael Jackson’s Thriller), it was easily one of the most played albums in the barracks. The album went on to sell over 30 million copies worldwide, but to me, I was oblivious to the numbers. It was the summer soundtrack of being young, proud, and far from home. In 1984, the newest music format was the compact disc, and Born In The U.S.A. made history as the first CD ever manufactured for commercial release in the United States. The discs were pressed at a brand-new plant in Terre Haute, Indiana — a sign of how the music world was already shifting from vinyl to digital, even as we were still dropping needles on records in the barracks.

So when we heard about The Boss coming to Frankfurt’s Waldstadion on Saturday June 15th 1985, there was no question, we had to be there. 

And here’s where it connects back to my last post. If I hadn’t been stationed with the German Bundeswehr, I don’t think it would've happened.  We’d gone through language training, and I was close to fluent. I’d made friends with our German counterparts, and they helped us score tickets. Remember, this was pre-internet — no Ticketmaster, no online queues. We literally had to go into town and buy them from a local shop. Take a look at that ticket — remember when they actually meant something? I had the idea a few years ago to scan all my old concert stubs and turn them into posters. Now they hang in my sons’ apartments — kind of cool seeing pieces of my music story hanging on their walls.

So now let me take you back to that Saturday night…the weather was perfect, 50,000+ strong in anticipation of BRUCE! When the opening notes hit for the title track, the place erupted and I knew I was a witness to history. The band at what many consider their peak. Tight, unstoppable and larger than life. Especially Clarence Clemmons. The “Big Man” had definitely joined the band that night. 

Everyone around me was singing the chorus like it was a proud anthem — and sure, it felt that way in the moment — but the verses told a different story: the loneliness, the struggle, the disillusionment of small-town life. Born in the U.S.A. wasn’t just fireworks and fists in the air; it was heartbreak wrapped in a power anthem. Somehow, Bruce with his gritty out of breath voice made you feel both — the weight of hometown sadness and the rush of being young, alive, and part of something special. The setlist was amazing. I had also gotten heavy into Nebraska, The River and perhaps my all time favorite Bruce album is Born to Run so hearing all these songs live was truly something special.

After the show we headed back to the train station to find our way home back to Wurzburg. I remember being exhausted and we had a long wait until the morning train. The 3 of us just half-slept or dozed off in the train station under the awning on some benches. We would talk and grin about that show for weeks. 

Fast forward to last week while I was in the Raleigh office. I checked the web for record shops nearby and found that Sorry State Records was open till 8PM so I headed downtown to check it out. I had not been before since this new adventure started. I parked right across the street and had a warm welcome when I strolled in. Cool vibe. A small shop but clean and organized. I started flipping the racks and bam - there it was. Born In the U.S.A. was right there. I know it sold millions of copies, but you never know with used record shops of just what you’re stumbling on. Reading the track list and holding the record took me right back to Frankfurt.

That’s kind of the whole point of this little project — I don’t know what I’m going to find when I walk into these shops. Sometimes it’s random. Sometimes it’s fate. But when a record connects the dots between then and now, well, that’s the magic.