Come on now try and understand
The way I feel when I'm in your hands
Take my hand come undercover
They can't hurt you now,
Can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us
-Patti Smith/Bruce Springsteen, “Because the Night”
Anyone who knows me even just a little bit knows that I am a huge fan of Bruce Springsteen. I’ve known who Bruce is for what feels like my whole life. My parents were fans of him so he was often heard in the background of my childhood days and he was on the radio in the eighties, like, a lot. A lot, a lot. You couldn’t miss him. If Dancing in the Dark or Born to Run or Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town Live (A childhood Christmas favorite: Clarence and his bellowing, jovial ho-ho-ho’s Bruce’s boyish laughing while singing the lines, I love it so much. So pure.), or Born in the USA came on the radio while my dad was rolling down the road with us in the back, I knew it was The Boss. But I didn’t love him yet.
I discovered Bruce Springsteen for myself and for real while I was attending art school in New England. It was the very beginning of my second year, the last week of August is probably when I arrived to get settled in before classes started. I had made few connections my first year there and the few I did, didn’t return for this semester. Montserrat College of Art is situated in a coastal town north of Boston and neighboring Salem, Mass. It was beautiful. My dad would drive me the 8 hours up, help me unpack, take me out for dinner and then turn around and drive the 8 hours straight back. I always thought that was crazy but that’s how he did it. Several times.
The first few days back felt pretty lonely but I felt so free and liberated there too. So ready and hungry to stab at life and opportunity in every way it was presented to me. To meet new people outside my small backwards town who had similar ideas and interests and goals to my own. But it hadn’t really happened yet, I just arrived. My birthday is in mid September and so I decided I wanted to celebrate it somehow. By myself. I can’t recall it all but I know I ended up browsing the Boston Craigslist ticket section. I wanted an experience. The Bruce Springsteen ads started to stand out to me, there were a handful of them. I remember reading that he was going to be doing 2 nights, September 6th and 7th, 2003, at Fenway Park and that it was the first time anyone would play in the stadium and that felt so historic and cool to me as a baseball fan. I snagged a ticket for around $75 bucks (fuck you dynamic pricing). I used money that my parents had sent me for groceries. It was a decent seat down on the field. Not in the pit but on the field. I remember entering into the park in awe that I was there. Because: FENWAY PARK. I was making my way to my spot, descending down stairs, stopped several times by ticket ushers to make sure I was headed where I was supposed to go until finally my feet touched grass. I didn’t really realize it at the time but looking back, the set up seemed so strange. There was the stage and a railed off pit area and then just, like, patches or clusters of plastic white seating. One of them belonged to me. I looked around at the other people there to see Bruce and I remember feeling like I didn’t fit in. I had short punk-ish/emo hair, a studded leather belt with a gigantic buckle, wallet on a chain, tight gray jeans with a flowery green fabric heart I sewed on the ass pocket with pink string, 2 lip rings and thick, dark eye makeup. I was 19, a few days from turning 20 and everyone else seemed ancient and boring… but also really happy. Talking, smiling, drinking beer. I had never even tasted beer at that point. There were large open areas of grass and people were sitting in those areas (I told you, weird seating set up). I decided to find myself a spot to sit in the grass as well, I wanted to be as close to the grass as possible, to touch it with my hands. Being there by my self was one of the most individualistic, unbounded, pure experiences I had ever had in my life up to that point… and I was surrounded by thousands. I was proud of myself for making the move to buy the ticket (and starve the rest of the week), figuring out how to use the train from Beverly to Boston… how to ride the T to get me to the ball field where I was sitting just then taking it all in.
While waiting for Bruce and the band to take the stage I wondered if he would do any of the few songs I knew. I was excited for those and didn’t know about the rest. The band started up by launching into Take Me Out to the Ballgame which made me grin, I liked that. Smart move, I thought. Cute. Next was a cover song, Diddy Wah Diddy, which had me bouncing my head. The band was touring for The Rising album, which, I didn’t know at the time would become one of my favorite albums, so the next couple songs were from that album.. then a few more songs I didn’t know until finally, 11 songs in, I recognized one. It was Because the Night which he wrote with Patti Smith. I had watched everyone around me up until this song singing the lyrics and dancing and again, feeling like I didn’t belong here. Feeling like people were looking at me, wondering what the hell I was doing there. Maybe thats why this song travelled through me like lightening. It’s such a powerful song and live, it moved me in a way I was not expecting. The song ended and they played another song I didn’t know but now I was excited. I remember pausing in my mind and asking myself “What was that?”. I watched through several more songs I didn’t know the words to but I was feeling it. It’s hard to describe it, I was catching the energy and I felt it vividly and deep. Sometimes it felt as though Bruce’s spirit was flying right down next to me to make sure I heard him right. To hear what he was trying to tell me.
It would be a feeling that has never gone away for me.
I don’t remember a single thing about leaving the show and getting home. The going and the attending, I remember vividly but the after? Nothing. I don’t remember buying the poster but I know I did because I have it, I can’t remember if I had any difficulty with the trains or what time I finally made it back to my apartment, if I ate anything, none of it. I was outside of myself, floating. In a good way. On a pleasure buzz.
I’m sure that I crashed as soon as I got home, I had to have.
The next day I woke with an intense desire to know more about Bruce Springsteen. Who was this guy? It was an earlier time for the internet so it just wasn’t quite as vast as it is now. But it was all I had at the time and I was thankful. I became manic and obsessive over finding new videos of him performing in the 70’s. They didn’t exist out there as readily as they do now so each time I found a new one it was like gold. I was also spending time trying to find articles and interviews. I was disappointed in finding that his interviews were few and far between. At some point in my searching I discovered backstreets.com and the public forum BTX. This message board was something I was very attracted to. I made myself an account and became active in discussions and it was a lot of fun. I probably learned most about Bruce here. I made a lot of ‘online friends’ but again, they were all so much older than me. I guess it never really mattered to me. Out of everyone, there was one woman who seemed to have similar taste in music as me aside from Bruce. I think we got started because we both liked Jesse Malin, who must’ve been a topic on the boards because he had played some shows with Bruce around that time and I think had Bruce featured on one of his songs. There were other bands/artists we had in common too so eventually we took our online friendship over to AIM. Ya’ll remember AIM?
So good.
This woman, she was significantly older than me, maybe by almost 20 years, and had a couple kids. We would chat every couple of days or so over the course of the next year. We’d talk about Bruce, about the time she met him (I was so jealous), shows she’s been to, her kids, art, a lot about Jesse Malin and I suspect other bands as well but I don’t specifically remember.
It’s August 2004 and I’m now back to Beverly for the beginning of my third year of art school… and again, trying to figure out how to celebrate my birthday. A big one... 21. My birthday is September 12th and I had found out that Jesse Malin would be playing the Bowery Ballroom in NYC on September 11th. Could I really bus it the whole way to NYC by myself? I had never been there before in my life. It seemed a little daunting and scary but I am who I am and I’ll do just about anything. I think I’m a closet thrill seeker or something. I like the feeling of being a little nervous and afraid and the feeling of conquering those things.
You son of a bitch, I’m in.
I must have mentioned my upcoming trip to my fellow Jesse Malin fan friend and, to my surprise, get this, she was also going to be heading to the city to see a band she really loved on the same night. Marah she said. They’re called Marah and I think you would actually really love them! I’m always skeptical when people say that to me. She said, I think you should come with me to see Marah before you go see Jesse, they go on an hour before he does, I’m meeting other friends there, too. I’m not a weirdo, I swear.
YOU SON OF A BITCH, I’M IN!
I mean, I guess? Why the hell not, you know?
I left my college apartment around 10:45am to board the train to Boston where I would catch a bus to New York City. It was called the Fung Wah and I don’t remember who tipped me off to this service but it was cheap as hell and thats the only way I could roll.
The one thing that filled me with the most anxiety was this: The Marah show was billed to start at 10pm. The thing is though, this was a 21+ show and I was not legally 21 for another several hours. I was having real nerves about approaching the door and some gigantic dude looking at my ID, then looking at me, then rolling his eyes at me and saying No dice, toots. Get the fuck outta here ya fucking kid! NEXT! The whole bus ride down I’m playing out scenarios about how I’m gonna convince this dude to have pity on me and just let me in. I finally meet up with the people I’m looking for and we get in line. My heart is beating hard. I say to them at one point, You think they’ll let me in? Like, they will, right? I was hoping hearing them tell me I’d be fine, which they did, would help ease my panic but what the fuck did they know?
I approached the bouncer, it was dark and he was big, just as I had imagined. He took my ID and I was ready to do whatever I was going to need to in order to convince him to let me slide by. Shoot your shot my guy, I’m ready to battle. I’m small but I’m mean!! He handed my card back to me and went on to the next person. Confusion and relief. Certainly not a scenario I expected. He didn’t give a flying fuck and I’ve always loved him for that. I don’t think he even really looked at it. New York City.
The first time I laid eyes on my husband was about an hour before I turned 21 years old. It happened in a dimly lit bar called Sin-e and it was filled with body humidity and white noise and a haze of smoke. There was the low hum of everyone talking at once, living and sharing an experience together but also completely separate from each other before they all start to shout and scream and whistle and cheer at once because here comes the band. Their band. Not my band… yet.
I think the moment I first saw Serge I subconsciously sensed Bruce Springsteen somehow. I’m not kidding. It likely had to do with the fact that a fellow Springsteen fan had invited me there, the mannerisms and the way he was dressed. The vest. I didn’t know so much as his name at the time. But damn, I thought he was fiiiiine.
And the music was fire! This band is the kind of band that knocks the wind out of you live. By this point in my life I had seen a lot of live music on a lot of different levels and to be honest I was a bit of a snobby critic when it came to new music, especially if someone else recommended it. I don’t know how to properly articulate how blown away I was standing there in the first song. It was another clear moment of me feeling what I felt seeing Bruce Springsteen the first time. A lightening strike. What is happening right now? I was catching the energy. Maybe Serge’s spirit was flying back through the crowd and standing next to me to make sure I heard him right. To hear what he was trying to tell me that night.
Regrettably now, as Serge will never let me live it down, I left the show after about 5-6 songs. This, I swear, had nothing to do with the fact that I wasn’t completely enamored with this new music and the way the band was electric live and had everything to do with my loyalty to the fact that I had spent money on this other ticket and wanted to make sure I didn’t eat it. I think that when you’re poor that’s how you think some times. It hurts to waste anything. And I was also just trying to absorb as many experiences as possible. Going to two shows in one night in the Big Apple felt big time. It’s the first and only time I’ve ever split shows.
Much the same as with my first time seeing Bruce Springsteen I was excited about Marah. After I returned to my college home, I started to dig into getting to know this band more. I remember finding their website and message board and had a look around but I didn’t stick around there long. I remember there was a Serge’s ass appreciation thread (um, yes.) but other than that it was kind of a weird vibe there at the time I remember thinking. It did confirm to me though that the hot guitar player I was clocking from the crowd a few nights prior seemed to be in a relationship. Damn. But to be honest, who was I kidding? I didn’t actually care. I didn’t think we’d ever cross paths and even if we did I wouldn’t presume I had any chance with him to begin with or any other band boy… or any boy. Beyond the message board there were maybe a few interviews I could read about the band on the internet but no where near what I could find about a more famous and established guy like Springsteen. So really, all I had with Marah in the beginning and for a very long time was their music. The albums themselves mostly. I was only ever able to see them live another time or two in the span of over a decade. It’s a pretty pure way to get to loving a band if you ask me. Loving their music and that’s it. The people in the band almost don’t exist if that makes sense. Within a day or two after the show I caught a ride with a friend to Newbury Comics which is where I was buying most of my albums. CD’s were still the thing. I went there specifically this day to look for 20,000 Streets Under the Sky, which was the newest album and the one they were touring for. I was unsure if I would find it there or not but sure enough, there it was in the M section of the Alt/Rock area. I picked it up, all purple and black. This one didn’t come in the standard plastic CD case, it was more similar to how a vinyl record is packaged. It was beautiful.
I was discovering a lot of different music at this time in my life. So many bands. A few of them have stood the test of time. Marah is one of them. Bright Eyes. Bruce Springsteen. mewithoutYou. I still love them very much. Others, I still think they’re cool but not in heavy rotation these days. Squad Five-O. Deathcab for Cutie. The Faint. Cursive. Elliott. Coheed and Cambria. I could name a bunch. I like revisiting some of these bands occasionally for the nostalgia hit, but the former bands listed, they still make me feel the lightening in my veins. I love a good, smart and clever writer and those four bands are top shelf in that regard. I still play them in my van when I’m alone, turned up about as loud as it will go and feel like I’m flying.
It would be 12 or 13 years after seeing Marah in New York City for that first time before Serge and I ever came face to face and spoke our first words to each other. We lived a lot of life without each other and I have spent time kind of grieving that, like, sometimes missing out on so much of his life feels like a loss to me in a way. But I know it’s not really like that. We’ve got such a good thing now, I think it’s natural to sometimes wish you had more but you can never collect that from behind, only from the days to come. So that’s what we do. We capitalize on each day, each moment and really absorb the beautiful life we’ve got going together. We may not have appreciated each other or any of this as we do if we didn’t each have the experiences we had. We’ve got the best version of each other because we’ve given each other the space to BE the best versions of ourselves and there is nothing more genuine and true than that when it comes to love.
Look at us now.
Dear Thunder Pie,
Once you wrote an essay called “How I Died the First Time” and it kinda broke my heart. Here is how I figure you got to feeling how you feel. Why you feel like your band wasn’t as special to me as other bands you know I love. I think for a large portion of the beginning of our relationship we were trapped in certain strange psychological situations and circumstances that we didn’t understand at the time. Each land mine had to be handled just right or there would be an explosion. One of those things for me personally was how to navigate the fact that I was a long time serious fan of Marah. I understood how that could look and I knew what the buzz was and I knew it wasn’t true and that I had to fight against that somehow. I knew if I didn’t play this card smart and close to my chest the false narrative could prevail and you’d be swayed and maybe be gone. So, I thought it best, at first, to just heavily underplay my love for your band and it’s role in my life for over a decade before I ever knew you for real because I didn’t want to be labeled a “groupie”. And for you to believe that and tell me to kick rocks. That paired with the fact that I was very much sensing the internal struggle you were having with the band and it’s role in your life up until that point and what its role would be further on up the road. So the music itself and my fandom, it just became something we didn’t talk about. And certainly not music either of us ever put on on a Friday night together. I was still listening on my own though, and I still do.
In retrospect, it feels like such a bummer, I guess, because after we fell into an actual solid relationship and knew each other to the core, I don’t think that even then, after I felt safe enough to admit all of this and let you know the truth, you ever truly believed it. That sucks for both of us, but mostly you. I wish I could have given you that from the beginning. It could have been a really special connection. I remember when I first tried to admit to you how far back your band went back for me you kind of scoffed. I really thought you were only being modest and sort of joking about not believing me. I would try to find ways to prove it to you which included testimonials from my best friend and from my sister, showing you old social media ‘about me’ sections where I mention my favorite bands, showing you old journal entries where I wrote what song I was listening to when I wrote particular entries and even finding a bunch of my old mix CD’s from 2005-2007 and ALL of them had one Marah song. Every single one of them. I thought all of this would surely convince you but it doesn’t seem to be the case necessarily.
Anyway, I hope you’ll forgive me for all that. And I hope you’ll start to try to believe me now.
I want you to know your band was there with me for all of it. Top of the list with all the other bands I was loving and feeling as I was coming into my own, learning who I was and who I wanted to be. And now YOU’RE here with me for all the rest of it. All the rest of our days.
You were in a band I really loved when I was just a young woman coming into her own, looking for something. Needing something. Marah has truly meant so much to me over the years. You didn’t know it but you’d been with me through over a decade of love and pain and fear and fun and dogs and kids and change and living.
You get down on yourself for spending so much of your life in a band, sometimes you call it a waste but I know you don’t really mean it. For me, selfishly, I am so thankful. For the music, sure. But ultimately it is what brought us together and that has become EVERYTHING.
I loved your band but more importantly I love YOU.
Okay?
Okay.
Love,
Your Biggest Fan
PS - Does this all mean we can actually credit Bruce Springsteen for setting us up?!
Even though we’ve got so much past
Mangled hearts that just beat too fast
Maybe it’s this time that we’ve been praying for
Maybe it’s this time we’ll make somebody smile
Even though we’ve been dipped in shame
Cotton candy people games
Maybe its this time that we've been praying for
Maybe it's this time that we'll blast off forever
Ever since I saw your face
I have been a star in space
Shining down onto your street
We might have this darkness beat
Even though we've been so afraid
Skittish flies at the lemonade
Maybe it's this time that we've been counting on
Maybe it's this time we'll make somebody smile
-Marah, “This Time”
Photos: Arle Bielanko
Email: arlebielanko@gmail.com
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koi no yokan
[ko-ee no yo-kan] Japanese
(n.) The extraordinary sense upon first meeting someone, that you will one day fall in love.
Beautiful!! What a wonderful story and memory and history. And, yeah, Marah is top shelf. Top. Happy Thanksgiving to the whole gang down there in PA.
Love this. Thanks for sharing.