Despite the fact that I've covered the music industry for about 15 years as a journalist and/or critic, and the fact that I've been a fan of Bruce Springsteen [ tickets ] for nearly twice as long, I'd somehow managed to avoid seeing the Boss in concert before his Friday (4/4) performance at Sacramento, CA's Arco Arena.

OK, stop hurtling the insults at me. Life got in the way, I guess. I have many excuses. Sometimes money was tight, so the concerts I went to in my youth tended to be of the punk-rock variety (the $5-and-under cover charges drew me in every time). Plus, I've always preferred to see concerts in small venues rather than sports palaces or amphitheaters. Sometimes, seeing the Boss just didn't fit into my schedule.

But there's no denying it now: I was an idiot. Now I know what seemingly every other rock fan in the world already knows: A Springsteen concert isn't to be missed.

Springsteen is a captivating performer--to the extent that the members of his generally charismatic E Street Band are hardly even noticeable most of the time. Springsteen makes a 15,000-seat basketball arena feel intimate--I don't think there was a section in the place that he didn't give some attention during Friday show.

Though he's getting mighty close to 60 years of age, Springsteen's voice still is as powerful as it sounds on his albums, and his band puts out a brand of anthemic noise that can't be mistaken for any other group.

Despite playing for about two-and-a-half hours, Friday night's performance didn't suffer from any lulls--the pacing was masterful, the setlist a brilliant mix of favorites, newer material and surprises.

He's still idealistic--there were at least a couple of brief anti-Bush screeds, even though many of Springsteen's core audience of middle-agers in the Sacramento area have long left their idealism behind. My seat was next to a middle-aged woman who was yelling "Shut up and sing," and "I don't like this part!" whenever Bruce started on a political rap, and she wasn't alone. Somehow, the same woman didn't have a problem singing the lyrics to the anti-Iraq war song "Last to Die," which has the chorus "Who'll be the last to die for a mistake."

On this tour, Springsteen plays upon one of the most bare-bones sets you'll ever see at an arena show. The lone frills on Friday night were the huge calliope that opened the show with a tune before disappearing for the duration for the night (I'm not sure I get it, either), and the throne-like chair that Clarence Clemons sits upon when he needs a break from blowing his mean sax.

LiveDaily contributor Jim Harrington's review of the show.