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    a meeting with the boss

    Bruce Springsteen rocks Toyota Center like a boss in epic, nonstop, 3-hour show for the ages

    Bob Ruggiero
    Feb 15, 2023 | 5:55 am

    It’s no secret that Bruce Springsteen fans love him. Like, really really love him. For decades he’s had one of rock’s most passionate and dedicated fan bases, and pilgrimages to his shows are often met with a fervor that the faithful of other religions and icons save for their most sacred sites in distant lands.

    But only Houstonians got to spend a specific Saint’s Day—Valentine’s in this case—with the Boss and his expansive gang of merry men and women on the first leg of their current U.S. tour. It was also his first stop in Houston since the Woodlands Pavilion on May 6, 2014.

    Somewhat surprisingly, the holiday went unremarked in an evening skimpy on love songs. Maybe because his own paramour, wife and band member Patti Scialfa, was not performing on this date (though one fan held out hope—and a sign—for the sweetness of “Sunny Day”).

    And one Apostle of E Street was missing—guitarist Nils Lofgren was out with COVID. But guitarist/consigliere Steven Van Zandt (and his killer fit) and multi-instrumentalist Soozie Tyrell—who both missed the previous show in Dallas for the same reason—were back in the fold (so no emergency call to Tom Morello this time).

    Somewhere in an attic, there is a painting of Bruce Springsteen aging. Clearly, there’s no way—at 73 years old—he could put that much into a performance with the energy of a man half…nay a third of his age.

    Whether attacking is signature Frankenstein-ish Fender Telecaster/Esquire, singing with enough passion and feeling to cause a brain embolism, or skipping/shimmying/pogoing across the stage, he was a physical wonder to watch over the course that lasted three solid hours. Not once did he leave the stage. Not once.

    The 28-song set covered pretty much the entirety of his now 50-year recording career (debut Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J. hit store shelves in 1973). And highlights included some of those Big Guns: a faith-driven “The Promised Land,” the Bo Diddley-beat of “She’s the One,” another trip to a symbolic church with the 9/11-themed “The Rising,” and the fist-pumping “Badlands.”

    The Most Transformed Song of the Night Award goes to “Johnny 99.” Where the band took the original stark just-Bruce-and-his-acoustic-guitar approach on Nebraska and turned it in fun, funky workout.

    His last two albums of newer music were also represented: The elegiac but still forceful medication on death, loss, and passing of time Letter to You. And Only the Strong Survive, a collection of soul covers from the ‘60s-‘80s from artists who inspired him.

    The former clearly held sway with the burning full-band intensity of “Ghosts” and his solo acoustic “Last Man Standing.” Bruce didn’t speak much to the audience this night, but he explained how the latter was inspired by the death of his former bandmate George Theiss, leaving him the literal “last man standing” from his first teenage band, the Castiles.

    Another highlight from the record was “If I Was the Priest”—a tale of the Old West and the New Testament that Bruce wrote when he was 22 and just got around to properly recording recently. According to setlist.fm, it's the first public performance of the song since 1972! And show opener “Night” was a tour debut.

    Unfortunately, the two picks to play from Only the Strong Survive were among the weakest on the album (even though the crowd responded to the Commodores’ “Nightshift,” if only because it was familiar). And while they certainly have their adherents among Spring-Nuts, “Prove It All Night” lacked for the passion of delivery and “Kitty’s Back” remains an overextended piece.

    Of the E Street band, saxophonist Jake Clemons has grown into the Shoes of the Big Man, his uncle Clarence, but brings a lighter and more deft style of playing. A much slimmed-down Van Zandt got in some nice, stinging solos, and 71-year-old “Mighty” Max Weinberg put in the evening’s No. 2 Most Physical Performance.

    The keyboards of Roy “The Professor” Bittan and Charlie Giordano played nicely off each other all night. The core band was augmented by a four-man horn section, four backup vocalists, and an added percussionist.

    The show hit the final stretch with the Super Big Guns. That would include “Born to Run,” “Rosalita (Come Out Tonight),” “Glory Days,” and “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out.” The band clearly had fun with the last, and Bruce made the rounds around the floor of the Toyota Center hopping on dividers and slapping the hands of excited fans along the way.

    Houston pops up occasionally in Springsteen lore: The city is mentioned in “Seeds.” And he often speaks fondly of the original band’s four-night stint at Liberty Hall in March 1974, now the subject of Springsteen: Liberty Hall, an upcoming book of concert and casual photography by Nicki Germaine, whose longtime partner is E Street bassist Garry W. Tallent. But alas, no “Cadillac Ranch” tonight, which has often appeared in Houston.

    It should be noted that the Houston stop did make some pre-gig national news. When tickets went on sale for this first leg in July, Springsteen’s management and Ticketmaster engaged in “dynamic” pricing. In a nutshell, price would be dictated by the algorithms of demand. This left a lot of fans in uproar as mid-level seats were going in the range of $4,000-$5,000. It was such a blow that Springsteen’s #1 fan outlet, Backstreets, all but cited it specifically as the primary reason for ceasing operations after more than 40 years.

    But as Forbes and other outlets reported earlier this week, secondary ticket sellers (learning the hard way about supply and demand) were looking to unload Houston tickets for far below face value and as little as $10 (and hours before the show…$4!). Still, last night’s show wasn’t a sell out with seats available across all levels.

    The concert ended not with the final blast of “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out,” but after the band left the stage leaving only Bruce Springsteen, again holding an acoustic guitar. More than a few tears were shed with his simple and affecting performance of Letter To You’s “I’ll See You in My Dreams.” Isn’t it what we all want to do for those we’ve loved and unfortunately lost in life? It was a touching and perfect way to end an evening.

    But back to that Bruce-as-religion theme. Concertgoer Mace Wilkerson—who has seen Springsteen “nearly 20 times around the country” since the mid-‘80s, was in my row. He also represented the middle of three generations of his family who sat together. He summed things up walking out of the Toyota Center:

    “Seeing Springsteen live is the closest thing to going to church. It’s spiritual, and it’s pure joy.”

    Amen, brother. We’re Bound for Glory Days.

    Bruce Springsteen Toyota Center concert 2023

    Photo by J. Thomas Ford

    Jake Clemons has stepped into the shoes of his iconic uncle with a fresh approach.


    Set List:

    Night

    No Surrender

    Ghosts

    Prove It All Night

    Letter to You

    The Promised Land

    Out in the Street

    Candy’s Room

    Kitty’s Back

    If I Was the Priest

    Nightshift

    Don’t Play That Song (You Lied)

    The E Street Shuffle

    Johnny 99

    Last Man Standing

    Backstreets

    Because the Night

    She’s the One

    Wrecking Ball

    The Rising

    Badlands

    Thunder Road

    Born to Run

    Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)

    Glory Days

    Dancing in the Dark

    Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out

    I’ll See You in My Dreams

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    Creed concert review

    Creed serve up millennial nostalgia at pyro-packed RodeoHouston concert

    Craig Hlavaty
    Mar 11, 2026 | 11:54 pm
    Creed concert RodeoHouston
    Courtesy of Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo
    Singer Scott Stapp serenades the RodeoHouston crowd.

    Hello, my friend, we meet again.

    I’ve had a torrid relationship with Creed. As a circa-2000s punk rocker, it was implied that I was supposed to hate them. Nevertheless, I enjoyed those hook-laden Mark Tremonti riffs and Scott Stapp’s burly, Bono-grasping vocals, with just a hint of irony deep in the mix. I had “One Last Breath” on a burned mix CD, bunched in with Fugazi, Rancid, and Sham 69. I would skip it as quickly as I could, depending on who was in the car. Driving home from a long day slinging milk in the Kroger dairy cooler? Windows down, Stapp up.

    When I began my music journalism career 20 years ago (!!!), I began sticking up for them, much to the consternation of a lot of my fellow writers who were hung up on stuff that was supposed to be cooler and hipper. Creed’s pop-culture zenith came right as The Strokes and The White Stripes were thrust on us by the music press as a counter to post-grunge, which other music writers were categorically allergic to. Remember when our biggest problems in America were bands that were overtly influenced by Pearl Jam and Alice In Chains?

    In 2012, I interviewed lead singer Scott Stapp along the way for the Houston Press, and I distinctly recall Stapp being confused on our call that a guy from a smug alt-weekly wasn’t asking him stupid questions or making fun of his leather pants. The band was heading to Houston for a two-night stand at the Bayou Music Center in 2012 when they played 1997’s “My Own Prison” and 1999’s “Human Clay” in their entirety.

    Fun fact: “Human Clay” has sold over 20 million albums alone, besting Nirvana’s “Nevermind” and Pearl Jam’s “Ten” by only a relatively small margin. Creed moved more physical CDs when people actually bought music.

    Somehow, along the way, people stopped hating Creed and Nickelback, and the hate gave way to pre-social media, millennial high school, and pre-9/11 nostalgia. The similarly maligned Nickelback sold out the rodeo in 2024.

    On Wednesday, March 11, I saw junior high school kids wearing crispy new Creed shirts with their parents. Gen Alpha is beginning to get curious about what mom and dad were up to during spring break 2001, and Zoomers are rediscovering Y2K fashions. Haven’t you seen those “Mom, What Were You Like In The ‘90s?” memes?

    Creed has been sold out for weeks, drawing 70,007 attendees. If you had told someone 10 years ago that Creed would sell out RodeoHouston, they would have been skeptical. And yet here we are, staring down at a sold-out Creed show. These things run in cycles. Emotions fade. Annoyance turns into wistfulness for the days of Nokia brick phones and 99-cent gas. You can even go on a Creed Cruise now.

    Creed hit the stage just before 9:30 pm, an enviable bedtime for most elderly millennials, kicking off with the TOOL-chugalug of “Bullets,” with Stapp and Tremonti making the best use of their stage platforms, crucial devices for any major rock band in the 2000s. Unrelenting pyro shot from the dirt surrounding the stage every time Stapp lifted or flailed his arms like Elvis if he discovered cardio.

    The dirge of “Torn” — the second single from My Own Prison — was pyro-less, likely giving the cannons a few minutes to cool off. The sweaty Stapp, at just 52, looks to be in better shape than he did 20 years ago, now sporting a conservative haircut like he stepped out of his company’s stadium suite or finished a twilight run at Memorial Park.

    Stapp introduced “My Own Prison” with a preachery pep talk that wouldn’t sound out of place at an altar call at Sturgis. The crowd hung on every emphatic word. Maybe seeing two middle-aged dudes wearing Stryper shirts down on the concourse made more sense than I realized. Is Creed actually just TOOL that accepted Christ? The graphics behind the band could’ve fooled me.

    Stapp introduced “One” with a speech on commonalities and love. Looking back, Creed’s lyrics were much too earnest, hitting at a time when critics were still hungover from grunge.

    During “With Arms Wide Open,” the rodeo cameras would routinely cut to tattooed dads and rocker chicks in the crowd playing air guitar along with Tremonti and singing their guts out like they did the first time they heard it on 94.5 The Buzz. For a large segment of the crowd, they might have had a Gen-X parent jamming this stuff on the way to school in the morning.

    “Are you ready to get higher in here, Houston?” Stapp yells. The place erupts as “Higher” starts. Stapp was in his element, pyro shooting off, his silver jewelry dangling, taking in the crowd, like he didn’t expect such a response.

    Possibly the last true rock power ballad ever recorded, “One Last Breath,” got the biggest screams of the night; it might also be the Gen-Z “Don’t Stop Believing” as long as we’re making wildly controversial statements. [Editor’s note: Isn’t that Mr. Brightside? -ES]

    Welcome back, Creed, from pop-culture purgatory, and props for what might have been the loudest RodeoHouston show in years.

    SETLIST

    Bullets
    Torn
    Are You Ready?
    My Own Prison
    What If
    One
    With Arms Wide Open
    Higher
    One Last Breath
    My Sacrifice

    Creed concert RodeoHouston

    Courtesy of Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo

    Singer Scott Stapp serenades the RodeoHouston crowd.

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