It's the Story of his Life (Option 2)

Same time, different place.

On Tuesday, May 23rd, 1978, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band performed the first concert of the Darkness on the Edge of Town Tour at Shea's Performing Arts Centre, in Buffalo, New York. Springsteen, while far from obscure (and still several years away from the global icon of the mid-1980s) hadn't released a new album for 3 years – which might explain the smallish number of people in the room with him that night – a modest 3,187. While that might seem like not many people for a Springsteen concert we can assume it's a lot more larger than the crowd that pitched up to the Lighthouse, 300 miles away in Bethlehem, NJ, on the same night, to see the opening night of Squeeze's first US tour. 

Squeeze, fronted by Glenn Tilbrook and Chris Difford has released their debut album two months earlier and were about to embark on a trek around the US that promised fame, fortune and all the high jinks you'd hope for if you were a young band on your first go-round the block. While nobody could argue that Squeeze were better known in the United States than Springsteen was, it might have been a closer game back in the UK. Still reeling from the so-called disastrous Hammersmith Odeon shows in November 1975, Springsteen hadn't returned to the UK since - and wouldn't for another 3 years. Meanwhile, Squeeze was riding high on the buzz from their first record and were, it seemed, potentially bound for glory. In fact, by the time Springsteen eventually landed back in the UK in May 1981, Squeeze had several proper hits (including their biggest. Cool for Cats and Up the Junction) and another two very well-received records to their name.

The rest is history, of course. Squeeze went on to split up, sort of reunite, then reunite a bit more while never really hitting the heights they might have once dreamt of. Nowadays, they seem to release a record every so often (good reviews, no sales) and play Vicar St sizes venues on a somewhat regular basis. I'm sure it's a living but they may feel (as many do) that they never quite fulfilled their early potential. Springsteen, meanwhile, in a career of never-ending highlights, progressed to playing stadiums, winning Oscars, receiving Presidential Medals of Freedom and becoming rich beyond his wildest dreams before eventually meeting me in January. As I said, endless highlights. 

So, what's the point of all this pointless comparison, I hear nobody ask. Well, only that, having experienced wildly different arcs on pop's glittering graph of success and riches, Springsteen and Chris Difford are both currently doing versions of the same thing - sharing stories from their recent autobiographies while playing acoustic versions of their best-known songs to diehard fans who've mostly been with them for years. Granted, the scale is slightly different. Springsteen is performing to about 950 people a night (charging an average of $500 a seat) while Difford is touring halls and small clubs across the UK and Ireland to considerably smaller crowds for a substantially smaller entrance fee. 

And that's what brought me to Whelan's a couple of weeks ago to see the first date of Difford's Irish tour – that's to say the first date he could get to. The heavy snow that pelted the country in early March had left Difford stranded in Holyhead waiting to get a ferry over to Dun Laoghaire. Don't suppose killing time at a car ferry waiting for a ferry crossing has been an issue for Bruce for a while. Anyway, back to Whelan's. After an excellent support slot from Boo Hewerdine, the under-appreciated singer, producer and one-time creative force behind The Bible, Difford was introduced by rock journo Danny McElhinney before spending 45 minutes patiently answering questions that all seemed to be variations on the same idea: You should have been huge, but you're not huge, are you? How does it feel to not be huge when you should have been? Maybe that's a little harsh but there did seem to be an emphasis on the idea that other, less worthy talents (Sting, Adam Ant, Dire Straits, U2, REM, Gary Numan - take your pick) got to enjoy greater rewards. Which is probably true but perhaps not something you need to be reminded of while sitting in front of a few dozen Dubliners on a Tuesday night. Still, you couldn't accuse Chris Difford of being a reluctant witness. If anything he was wonderfully indiscreet, sharing gossipy tales about Sting (yes, him again), Bob Geldof, U2, Elton John and Bryan Ferry, who Difford managed briefly before being relegated to a role perhaps best described, diplomatically, as 'personal assistant'.

In time, the interview section of the evening made way for the thing everyone was there: Chris Difford telling stories from his life and singing Squeeze songs with Boo Hewerdine. Except he didn't. Oh sure, he sang a few - Take Me. I'm Yours, Up the Junction, Labelled With Love, etc.. But he also did a very pleasing selection of solo songs too that kind of lost the audience but delighted me. I should say - I'm no expert on Chris Difford's solo records (or hi Squeeze records either) - but a lot of what I did know, he played. Songs like Fat as a Fiddle and Cowboys are My Weakness which are relatively recent, all sat comfortably among the older material. These were generally prefaced with a relevant story from his life - and not always stories that painted him in the best light. I guess the thing I enjoyed about the newer songs was that they removed the kind of cruise ship, singalong element that the audience brought to those old songs. However, if the majority of the audience didn't know what to make of the new songs, they certainly didn't know how to respond to the night's special guests. 

You couldn't have called it a surprise (their instruments had been on stage for the duration of the evening) but when Difford brought on Cavan's leading Dr Feelgood enthusiasts, The Strypes, for the last few songs, things moved up a whole other level. I thought I'd read somewhere that he was their manager but, according to Difford (and I suppose he'd probably know), it's more of a mentoring thing than management. Either way, halfway through Cool for Cats (I think) the band gradually joined the fray turning the song from a pleasant acoustic ramble into something louder, funner and much better. They flew through another two songs – Take Me, I'm Yours and Pulling Mussels (From the Shell) and that was it - an evening of three halves was at an end. He walked over to a corner to sign books (falling off the stage on the way which looked like it must have smarted) and that was that. I had a good time - hope he did too.

But, you know, driving home that evening I couldn't help going back to that Springsteen comparison. Bruce is standing on stage every night on Broadway talking about his life (or at least a version of his life up until he was about 30) and getting massive acclaim for it. However, as much as I enjoyed it (and I really, really enjoyed it) there's something a little disingenuous about it all. His stories have been crafted and sculpted to fit a certain narrative. Not that they aren't true but that they've been manipulated to fit his concept for the show. And that's ok - it was a great show and I suppose someone as iconic and aware of (and concerned with) his place in the firmament as Bruce isn't really going to reveal more about himself than he has to. Then you've got Chris Difford baring a hell of a lot more with a great deal of humour and humility. Some rock stars who end up driving Bryan Ferry to art galleries or having their songs rejected by lesser musicians or playing gigs in strangers' living rooms might opt to keep that to themselves in an attempt to save face or present a better version of themselves to their public. But Difford did all those things and the show was all the better for it.  

I guess I'm saying that if you have the chance to see him, you should take it. No, it's not exactly Springsteen on Broadway but in its own way it's better. And a lot cheaper. And you won't have to wait four hours to get your book signed. And he just might have The Strypes with him. Which is something we might never be able to say about Bruce Springsteen.