Opening Night 10 Best Moments

Given everything going on in the world right now, it’s impossible to find a way to open a politically charged tour in a way that feels impassioned yet mindful, rousing without veering into tone-deaf territory. Springsteen pulled it off as best as anyone could by saluting the troops while protesting the war in Iran and speaking out for American values. “I want to begin tonight with a prayer for our men and women overseas. We pray for their safe return,” he said after taking the stage. “Tonight we ask all of you to join us in choosing hope over fear, democracy over authoritarianism, the rule of law over lawlessness, ethics over unbridled corruption, resistance over complacency, unity over division and peace over war!” But he didn’t say war—he sang it, segueing seamlessly into Edwin Starr’s 1970 Billboard Hot 100 No. 1.

“Born in the U.S.A.” isn’t exactly a rarity—it’s one of the Boss’ 12 top 10 hits on the Hot 100 and one of the signature songs of the ‘80s. But for the last several decades, American audiences have been more likely to hear Springsteen play the song in a stripped-down version, closer to something you’d hear on Nebraska than his blockbuster 1984 album. At his Minneapolis tour opener, however, the E Street Band—with Tom Morello in tow—busted out the thumping drums and those iconic synths for a studio-faithful version. The song has long been misinterpreted, but this crowd seemed to embrace and understand it in all its complexities.  

“This winter, federal troops brought death and terror to the streets of Minneapolis. Well, they picked the wrong town,” Springsteen said to an applauding audience early in the show. “The power and solidarity of the people of Minneapolis, of Minnesota, is an inspiration to the entire country. Your strength and your commitment told us this is still America. And this will not stand. Minnesota, you gave us hope. You gave us courage. And for those who gave their lives—Renée Good, mother of three, brutally murdered, and Alex Pretti, VA nurse, executed by ICE, shot in the back and left to die in the street without even the decency of our lawless government investigating their deaths—their bravery, their sacrifice and their names will not be forgotten.”

Following his tribute to Pretti and Good, Springsteen played “Streets of Minneapolis”—inspired by events just a few miles away from the Target Center—live for just the fourth time. (Two of the three prior performances were in the Twin Cities: one at First Avenue in Minneapolis and the other at the Minnesota State Capitol lawn in St. Paul.) It was, however, the first time Bruce played the song with the E Street Band. For those wondering if the somber protest tune would translate to a rousing live rocker, well, never underestimate the E Street. When the band kicked “Streets of Minneapolis” into a higher gear after Bruce did the first few verses acoustic, it felt natural, unforced and cathartic—particularly when the Boss spurred the crowd to shout “ICE out now!” not once, not twice, not thrice, but four times.

The Target Center was packed for the Boss’ tour opener—including a slew of seats situated behind the stage. Always the advocate for the underdog, Springsteen went out of his way to play to the audience behind him throughout the show, particularly during the twinkling ’50s-style rocker “Out in the Street.” At one point, he grabbed a “No Kings” sign from someone in the crowd, waved it around and handed it back to them. Ironically, that “No Kings” sign has now been blessed by undisputed rock royalty.

For those familiar with Springsteen’s biggest hits and general politics, “Streets of Minneapolis” might seem to be an unusually specific protest song for him. But longtime fans know better. A quarter century ago, Springsteen released “American Skin (41 Shots),” which directly addressed the killing of 23-year-old student Amadou Diallo in 1999 by four plainclothes NYPD officers who mistook him for a suspect, then mistook his wallet for a gun, then fired 41 shots into him within seconds, ending his life. The officers were acquitted on all charges. Soulful and harrowing, “American Skin (41 Shots)” remains as relevant now as when it first appeared on his 2001 live album Live in New York City, feeling like a eulogy for the dead and a prayer for a better future.

In the summer of 1984, Springsteen and director Brian De Palma shot the video for “Dancing in the Dark” at the Saint Paul Civil Center, playing the song twice during the concert—the opening date of his Born in the U.S.A. Tour—to get the footage they needed (involving Courteney Cox, no less). Forty-two years later, less than 10 miles from where that now torn-down venue stood, Springsteen trotted out “Dancing in the Dark” at yet another tour opener in the Twin Cities; the crowd might have been a bit grayer, and the Friends alum was nowhere to be seen, but the dancing was every bit as heartfelt.

Inspired by Woody Guthrie and John Steinbeck, “The Ghost of Tom Joad” is exactly the kind of Springsteen song that Tom Morello would love—and sure enough, the Rage Against the Machine guitarist helped the Boss reimagine the hushed folk tune from 1995 as an electric rocker on 2014’s High Hopes. On stage in Minneapolis, it went even harder, with the two trading vocals and guitar licks; Springsteen’s playing rarely veers into hard rock territory, but for a few moments during “Tom Joad,” he was matching Morello’s freak.  

After a crackling run-through of “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out,” Springsteen saluted late local “maestro” Prince by covering “Purple Rain.” Playing Prince in Minnesota always makes sense, but this cover was particularly fitting since much of the 1984 film Purple Rain was shot at First Avenue, a legendary venue which is kitty-corner from the Target Center (it might be catty-corner to some, but not in Minnesota). Springsteen’s growling tone is a far cry from Prince’s soaring falsetto, but it was a nice gesture, and Nils Lofgren more than delivered with his solo.

As the evening came to close after nearly three breathless hours, Springsteen took a moment to reflect on the toll that political division takes on us as social beings, something many Americans are struggling with. “The hardest part for me is feeling the distance between your neighbors. That distance can darken your soul,” he said. The New Jersey rocker said he finds inspiration in the last words Renée Good said before she was killed by an ICE agent. “Her last words to the person who killed her, to the man who would take her life, she said, ‘That’s fine dude, I’m not mad at you.’ I’m not mad. God bless her. Tonight, when you go home, hold your loved ones close. And tomorrow, do as Renée did: find a way to take aggressive peaceful action to defend our country’s ideals. As the great Civil Rights leader John Lewis said, ‘Go out and get into some good trouble.’ Say something, do something–hell, sing something.”