Just saw the Springsteen movie, Deliver Me From Nowhere. Two thumbs up. Don’t go in to see whether Jeremy Allen White looks or sounds like Springsteen, and don’t expect to see a lot of (or any) concert footage. Don’t even expect deep insights into the making of Nebraska.

But do see it.

I was late to the Springsteen party, but once I joined it, I jumped in with both feet. Back in 1981, when Bruce “Springy” Springsteen was hunkering down in a rented house, writing the songs that would become the Nebraska and Born in the U.S.A. albums, and driving back to the Stone Pony for late-night, all-night gigs, I had just moved to a small town in Finland.

The two records I played were… well, the two tapes I played were Difficult to Cure by Rainbow and Rumat sävelet by a Finnish band, Hassisen Kone, who just happened to be from my new hometown.

My Beatles tapes, my one Elvis record, and my Happy Days soundtrack found a new home in my desk drawer.

Then, seemingly from out of nowhere, came Springsteen – cheered on and ushered in by my high school buddy, who owned the Born in the U.S.A. album and loaned it to me so I could make a tape of it.

After that, he introduced me to Born to Run, The River, Darkness, and yes, even Nebraska. (And Huey Lewis, John Mellencamp, Southside Johnny – the list goes on.)

There was something about those songs that felt like he had written them with me in mind. I mean, our town was no Asbury Park, and the place across the river certainly wasn’t New York City, but the river was there – as was the desire to become something, do something, be something.

It’s a town full of losers
I’m pulling out of here to win

Bruce – he was always just Bruce – knew what it was like to feel something, and to look for a connection.

Me and Mary we met in high school
When she was just seventeen

I, too, was just 17! I had no Mary, but… I was in high school! And, as I mentioned, we did have a river that cut through our town.

We’d go down to the river
And into the river we’d dive

Not to mention the songs on the Born in the U.S.A. album that my buddy simply referred to – and continues to refer to – as BITUSA. Bobby Jean put into words exactly what I felt about a friend.

And I’m just calling one last time
Not to change your mind
But just to say I miss you, baby
Good luck, goodbye

Cover Me was an early favourite, Dancing in the Dark had the cool video, and Glory Days … well, I probably didn’t really understand that one back then, but I do now.

Glory days
They’ll pass you by, glory days
In the wink of a young girl’s eye, glory days

Then Bruce released the live recordings, and I went further back into his catalogue, running up and down the Shore with Rosalita, avoiding the Badlands, and believing in The Promised Land.

Then there was Growing Up. While the song itself isn’t my favourite, the story Bruce tells on that recording from the L.A. Coliseum in September 1985 is. I remember listening to it on my Walkman – once again riding my bike home from town – and how I cheered with the crowd when Bruce came to the happy ending of the story, where his father, who’d always told him the Army would make a man out of him, is happy when he doesn’t get drafted.

And that’s the story.