The Promised Land (Introduction) [Springsteen on Broadway]

So, so I'm 20 years old, and I'm livin' and playing on the Jersey shore
And I'm waitin' to be discovered
Now, I have some confidence.
I've been around a bit, and without a doubt
I am definitely the best thing that I've ever seen

I've already played in front of every conceivable audience.
I had played fireman's fairs, midnight madness supermarket openings
Drive-in movies, uh, in front of the concession stand in between films,
I've played beach parties, offices, clubs, pizza parlors,
Coffee shops, bowling alleys, trailer parks, roller rinks, VFW halls
CYO canteens, the elks lodge, YMCA gymnasiums, hockey rinks
County fairs, carnivals, high school dances, weddings, fraternity parties
Bar mitzvahs, [?], battle of the bands, Sing Sing Prison
and Marlboro Psychiatric Hospital.

Send me your murderers and your maniacs and let me entertain 'em, alright?
It's what I do. That's all true.
That's all before I was 23 years old, I was frustrated
I listen to the radio and I think I'm as good as that guy
I'm better than that guy, so why not me?
Answer: because I live in the fucking Boondocks, alright.
Let me explain this to you.
I live in the boondocks.
There is nobody here and no one comes down here.
It's a grave.
There was no Jersey, Jersey, Jersey Shore, Jersey Almighty shit.
I invented that. Before me, Jersey was Jeserkistan. Jeserkistan!
One of the little stan things that nobody knows a fuckin' thing about, ya know.
And New York was a million miles away from the Jersey Shore.
In my little town as a child we knew no one who had ever been to New York City. Jesus Christ, it was only an hour away!
But no, you might as well have said you're going to the fuckin' moon!
Hey, we're going to the moon, you wanna go?
No, no, no, no New York, we're provincial
Everybody was afraid ya know, everybody was afraid of the big city.
And there was no internet, there was no ET
Or MTV, or cable TV or satellite either
This is before anyone and everyone's asscrack from any place U.S.A.
Could be seen all over the world, should they choose,
In the push of a key, in the next instant.
So who was gonna come to the Jersey shore
To discover the next big thing in 1971?
You're correct. No fuckin' body.
All we heard down there was the sound of, one hand clapping
Wasn't gonna happen

I had one shot, my girlfriend at the time did me a great favor,
Brought a guy who had a successful recording band
Down to the Student Prince, our club, Asbury Park, to discover us.
We got up on a little stage that fit 150 people,
was about half full, and we played for this guy like we were at Madison Square Garden.
Everything we had, all night long.
We played five sets from 9pm 'til 3am.
At the end of the night, I was soaked to my bones,
I got off the band stand, this guy walked up to me
Looked me in the eye, shook my hand and said:
You guys are the best unsigned band I've ever seen
Then he slept with my girlfriend and left town.
That's the end of that story

It's a sad ending, ya know
But that was enough for me.
I gathered together the men, and I said:
Gentlemen, we are going to have to leave
The confines of the Jersey shore and venture into parts unknown if we wanna be seen, heard, by anybody, or discovered".
Now, I found a manager, surfboard manufacturer from the west coast,
he'd moved east by the name of Carl Virgil "Tinker" West.
Now, together he, Mad Dog Lopez, and myself, we lived in the surfboard factory, in the industrial wastelands of Wanamassa, New Jersey.

Tinker said he had some remaining rock 'n' roll contacts in San Francisco so we all got excited,
And he said if we could get there, something might happen.
So we saved up all our money until we had 100 dollars, alright?
And then me, Danny Federici, Mad Dog Lopez, little Vinnie Roslin our bass player, rigged out Danny's station wagon for the drive,
Put a mattress in the back for the drivers to spell each other into sleep, then on the way out there
we rigged Tinker's old 40's flatbed to carry our equipment,
And we had three days to make it across the country for a New Year's Eve gig in Big Sur, California

Now three days means those are gonna be thousand mile days.
You can make it, but you can't stop.
You stop for gas and for nothing else.
You drive, drive, drive, drive, 72 hours straight,
Somebody's driving all the time, around the clock.
Now of course we lost Danny and the entire station wagon full of drivers in Nashville, Tennessee.

Now, there's no cellular phones
Young people, take a moment
Let's try it. Imagine a world without the cellular phone.
When you lose someone in that world without the cellular phone, oh They're fucking lost
There's no device!
You can't get in touch with 'em, they're gone!
Out of your life! Into the ether!