Clive Davis Recalls Helping a Young Bruce Springsteen Find His Inner Rock God on the Concert Stage
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They say rock stars aren't made, they're born — but even Bruce Springsteen needed some help when he first started out.
Clive Davis was just the man to lend a hand. The legendary music executive was seven years into his tenure as the head of Columbia Records when he auditioned the future Boss in 1972. Springsteen was still in his early 20s, but his songs were shockingly mature, showcasing a preternatural wisdom far beyond his years. Even so, his stagecraft needed some work.
"When I signed Bruce Springsteen, it had zero to do with live performance," Davis, who celebrated his 90th birthday in April, tells PEOPLE. "He just stood there. When he auditioned for me, he just stood and played the guitar and sang his songs."
Davis, who'd already signed and mentored the likes of Janis Joplin, Santana, Chicago and Simon & Garfunkel, certainly knew a talented artist when he saw one. "I listened, blown away by his imagery and poetry. He's gone on with [Bob] Dylan and Patti [Smith] to be our poet laureates."
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So Davis temporarily tabled the matter of lackluster stage moves. For a time, it was a non-issue. Springsteen was still an unknown playing tiny Manhattan clubs like Max's Kansas City, where there was hardly a stage to command. But then Davis booked Springsteen to play a showcase on May 1, 1973 at the Ahmanson Theater in Los Angeles alongside Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show and New Riders of the Purple Sage. This was no downtown dive, and Springsteen needed to crank it up.
"I was at rehearsal," remembers Davis. "Springsteen came out on this huge stage, the size of Radio City Music Hall, and stood there singing his songs. I'm alone in the theater, and I walk up to the stage and I say to him, 'It's the first time I've seen you on a large stage. It's usually at small clubs and I never knew if you'd move or not. Would you consider" — you've got to be delicate — 'would you consider [moving]? Something to consider.'"
Davis walked him from one side of the stage to the other, like a coach psyching up his star player before the big game. "I said, 'Don't do it if it's not natural for you, but I know that the potential of the songs would lend itself to more physical movement on your part.'"
The show was a modest success. Before long, Davis got an invitation to see Springsteen at a small Greenwich Village club called The Bottom Line. The exec dulely accepted, only to find his circumspect acoustic troubadour completely transformed.
"I was flabbergasted. He jumped on every table at the Bottom Line! He became a Bruce Springsteen that I had never, ever seen before. He was a whirling dervish. It was not just the movement, it was the spirit of it. It was electrifying. It's one of those cases where an artist becomes even better and bigger than the reason that you signed them for. I've got to tell you, it's a vivid memory."
After the show, Davis went backstage for a private hello. "I got to the dressing room. I remember opening the door and him looking up saying, 'Clive, did I move around enough for you tonight?'"
The pair remained close even after Davis' departure from Columbia in 1973. Most recently, Springsteen made a virtual appearance at Davis' 90th birthday gala on April 6 at Cipriani South Street, where he regaled the crowd of 600 luminaries with memories of their friendship, and even a rendition of "Blinded by the Light" — a song Davis initially persuaded him to write as a new Columbia signee half a century earlier.
Davis, meanwhile, remains in awe of Springsteen's inimitable presence on the stage. Once, in a 2011 interview, he was asked to name one thing that everyone should experience. His answer was succinct: "Bruce Springsteen live."
