When I looked at him Bruce Springsteen on stage at the Circo Massimo in Rome – on election night May 21 – I tried to recap what had made him at the forefront of American songwriting for decades.

I tried to understand why these songs, which I listened to among 60,000 spectators at the ancient hippodrome, are touching, even if some of them were written half a century ago. I answer this way: because sadness and kindness pulsate in their reefs, which is what every wonderful work entails. Moreover, they are intersected by the epic concept of the experience of life “from below”: from below in terms of the social experience that irrigated them, but mainly in terms of psycho-emotional. Because in Springsteen’s songwriting, even at the most important moments, even when they are uplifting – as they often are – there is something invisibly insignificant at the core. Its denominator is sadness. The epic dimension of his work is nothing but counterpoint, a reaction to this sadness. Third and last, Springsteen is known to have the ability and intelligence to write amazingly clear songs, melodies and lyrics that capture the mind, engage the listener, and activate the body and mind.

In the three hours that the concert lasted – it is remarkable that at the age of 74 he sings with such intensity for three hours, but also testifies to his generosity and, dare I say, his morality – the major received the lion’s share: the concert was divided between excerpts from his recent recordings – mostly from “Letter to You” – and cult hits from the past. You couldn’t help yourself, and it didn’t matter; you felt that the crowd was eager to break free, to be photographed against the stage, to be photographed during the “Dance in the Dark”; there was something touching about that hug during “Because It’s Night,” albeit accompanied by the required selfie. Let the flashing lights make the stage look like a circus – after all, we haven’t been to Circo Massimo, have we? — and let Stevie van Zandt’s jokes be a little juvenile: entertainment isn’t frowned upon, especially when it involves songs. of this caliber, and it’s pretty inevitable when Springsteen’s audience numbers in the millions. Doesn’t matter. Because at the same time “Darkness on the Edge of the City”, one of the pinnacles of the rock repertoire, was played with the same charge as on the record of the same name. And why, when the band went into an asthmatic rhythm, in which one track followed another, Springsteen spoke touchingly about George Theis, his friend to whom he owes his involvement in music, who died of cancer five years ago; the intro to “Last Man Standing”, written in Tide’s memory, like the song itself, left the aftertaste of Springsteen’s own farewell, turning the ensuing “Backstreets” into an elegy to a lost friend and youth, but also a nod of reconciliation with death.

In Springsteen’s songwriting, even at the most important moments, even when they are uplifting – as they often are – there is something invisibly insignificant at the core.

Undoubtedly, Springsteen in Greece is misunderstood, identified in the minds of many with an outdated, deafening Americanism, perhaps because his work is intimately tied to the cultural characteristics of his homeland and to the suffocation and lust for life best understood in terms of Americanism at home? that’s why many consider “Nebraska” his best album, and rightfully so. Be that as it may, the works stand on their own, and Springsteen’s songwriting is certainly canon, everything he recorded between 1973 and 1987 is in no way threatened. And if the situation allows us to leave again to listen to him on election day, let the emigrants’ vote be good.

* Mr. Yiannis Palavos is a writer.