Posted May 3, 2006
By Sean Nelson, MSN Music Editor

[First things first: Stop reading this dispatch immediately, and watch an on-demand clip from Bruce Springsteen and the Seeger Sessions Band's Mainstage Performance that closed out the first weekend of Jazz Fest 2006. Then come back and read the rest. You won't be sorry.]

I'll begin with a blunt confession: I've never liked Bruce Springsteen. It's not that I've hated him or anything, but there are two kinds of people in this world, and I've always been the kind who didn't care for Bruce. This is why the news that I'd missed Springsteen and band's 8:30 a.m. sound check didn't really faze me.

My fellow Jazz Fest-goers on the webcast crew assured me that the morning rehearsal was something to behold, but people have been telling me that about Bruce Springsteen all my life, so I didn't put much stock in the news. (I was rather more exercised to learn that U2's The Edge, during an impromptu interview for MSN cameras about the Music Rising initiative, became choked up while discussing the plight of New Orleanians.)

The real excitement promised by Sunday's lineup was Allen Toussaint's set, which would feature a special guest appearance by Elvis Costello. Everything else was filler as far as I was concerned -- strong filler, to be sure, but still filler.

Never mind that both John Mooney and Sonny Landreth offered up master classes in New Orleans' songcraft or that the mighty Hugh Masekela was being interviewed live at the grandstand. Masekela held forth on his storied career as a dissident South African musician who found glory and fame as a California transplant in the '60s. He talked about playing at Monterey Pop and befriending the likes of the Byrds, Jimi Hendrix ("a very gentle soul"), Jefferson Airplane, Big Brother and the Holding Company and the like, all of whom impressed Masekela with the "forthrightness" of their opposition to the Vietnam war. He also answered questions about his work with Paul Simon on the "Graceland" album and tour and about the parallels between New Orleans' path to reconstruction and South Africa's rise to freedom from apartheid 12 years ago. "Patience and forgiveness," he advised, are the only roads toward rebirth.

It seems ironic that Masekela is a trumpet player. He has the kind of speaking voice you could lie down and listen to all day.

But there would be no time for that today, because Messrs. Toussaint and Costello were due to take the stage. Bedecked in a yellow blazer, trademark bushy moustache and a smile you could see from Baton Rouge, Allen Toussaint bestrode the stage like a king, then sat down at a Steinway grand piano to demonstrate how he'd come by the regal air. While effortlessly leading his powerhouse band through a medley of timeless hits, each a stone classic ("Workin' in the Coalmine," "Mother in Law," et al.), Toussaint paused to introduce "Fortune Teller" as a "song I wrote that was made popular by the Rolling Stones." Yeah, no big deal. Just the Rolling Stones.

He then welcomed Elvis Costello -- "the man with the biggest heart in show business" -- to the stage, and the pair led the band through several more Toussaint gems before debuting the title track from their forthcoming duet LP, "River in Reverse." Costello, normally a somewhat nervy performer, looked to be having the time of his life singing these songs, leading the audience in hand claps and generally deferring to elder statesman Toussaint, who never lost a step of his swagger. It was a joyous, ebullient performance that set the stage for the only thing that could possibly top it.

There had been heavy weather the night before; I hadn't realized how heavy until, just before the headliners' set, festival director Quint Davis told me that if the rain and windstorms hadn't happened precisely when they had -- between 8 p.m. Saturday and 8 a.m. Sunday -- the Sunday performances would certainly have been cancelled.

I mention this only by way of explaining that Bruce Springsteen and the Seeger Sessions Band's performance actually seemed to command the sun to break through the lingering cloud cover and shine as brightly as possible. This was the first gig for Springsteen's new 17-piece band, which he'd assembled to record an album of songs either written or made popular by the great American musicologist/folk singer Pete Seeger. And if there was any question about the relevancy of singing old folk songs in today's political/musical climate, it was banished after the opening bars of "Oh Mary, Don't You Weep," a rapture of orgiastic brass, stomping drums, guitars, banjo and voices that was pure New Orleans. [Watch the "Oh Mary" video]

From the moment they took the stage, Springsteen's troupe fired on all cylinders, and their bandleader was the most magnetic, urgent, impassioned and compelling frontman imaginable. In a moment tailor-made for an icon, an icon came forward, and his message was as timeless as music itself: "We Shall Overcome."

Unsurprisingly, Springsteen didn't shrink from criticizing the Bush administration, whose "criminal ineptitude" in the aftermath of Katrina made the singer "furious." He didn't stop there. "This is what happens," Springsteen declared, "when political cronyism guts the very agencies that are supposed to serve American citizens in times of trial and hardship." The roar of agreement and approval from the massive audience was thunderous.

He then launched into the most powerful number in a powerful set, the unforgiving "How Can a Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live." Originally written by Blind Alfred Reed about the stock-market crash of 1929, the song now features new verses that directly attack Bush, whom Springsteen called "President Bystander," for not responding to the wreckage of New Orleans with anything like the urgency that was (and still is) called for.

This song was emblematic of not only Springsteen and company's set but also of the entire spirit of Jazz Fest's first weekend -- all seemed to be fueled by outrage but girded by a deep and abiding passion for music, and an even stronger conviction that what everyone present needed and wanted most was a joyful noise. Springsteen and his titanic band (did I mention there were 17 members?) rose to the challenge, summoning not only the ghosts of the city -- the mournful closing rendition of "Amazing Grace" inspired many thousands of spectators to a full-throated sing-along -- and of the country but also seemingly the power of the sun itself to say New Orleans will rise again. And there and then, if only for an hour, it did.

I've seen a lot of rock shows in my day, but I've never seen anything quite as stirring as this one. Clearly, I've been wrong all along about The Boss. His fusion of politics, art and performance was a perfect storm of sorts; I'd be stunned if anyone who saw it could ever forget it. There could have been no better climax to the first weekend of Jazz Fest 2006 -- and no better precursor to the second.

[Now go back and watch the Springsteen clip again. Watch Toussaint and Costello, too. Watch the entire Jazz Fest on-demand library. You'll only be sorry if you neglect to return to MSN Video for the live webcast on Sunday, May 7, from 3 p.m. to 8 p.m. ET. Performers include Paul Simon, Fats Domino, Buckwheat Zydeco, Koko Taylor and many others.]