By Dinky Dawson, published today in
Crawdaddy:
June 25, 1978, was a day off in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, to enjoy a night of Bruce Springsteen. Bruce had just released his fourth album, Darkness on the Edge of Town, which was flying out of North American record stores, confirming his status as a new star. We felt weird asking for 10 tickets to take care of the whole entourage, but Bruce himself pulled together a row of seats in the sixth row for us. I have to admit that it felt weird when I sat down in the crowd to be in a show for entertainment and not for work. Warren felt a little strange as well, especially when people began recognizing him and shouting, “Werewolves, Werewolves!”
We loved Springsteen’s first few songs but the sound was way too loud. Warren desperately grabbed my arm and asked if anyone had earplugs. We produced a bag of Swedish wool packets, which helped us all quite a bit, but by the fifth song the bass was too much for Warren and he wanted to leave. Outside, he asked me what I thought, adding “I hope we’re not that loud.” “Not on your life,” I assured him. “I like it loud, but not death loud."
Back at the hotel room, it was off to Warren’s room for cocktails. Bruce and his entourage returned from the show with tons of groupies in tow, whom everyone in Warren’s band had been chatting up. I headed back to my room and the phone rang as soon I stumbled in. The voice on the other end said, “This is the boss. Is Warren there?” I started laughing and asked, “The boss, who?”
“Bruce!” the voice replied, slightly peeved, but softened as I went into Cheech and Chong’s familiar routine. “Bruce isn’t here!”
“Who is this?”
“Dinky Dawson. A close personal friend of Mr. Zevon.”
“Yeah?” he laughed, “Well I’m going to have to come down and show you who’s boss!” Warren came into the room and I handed the phone to him. He started laughing and looked at me, then hung up. “You’re in trouble,” he said simply.
By Dinky Dawson, published today in Crawdaddy:
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