Sony digital media team, way to expose yourselves.

I'd wondered whether the Springsteen camp would use actually use @springsteen after taking it from a quality-tweeting and clearly-not-impersonating fan. The camp impressed me some in June by managing a few tweets. While viewers knew it wasn't Bruce — fans with common sense instantly ruled that out — the feed made no first-person claims.

But we learned today through a screw-up that it's not even the Bruce camp doing the tweeting. This afternoon brought a fresh tweet, "The pre-sale for my added Honolulu show starts tomorrow…come and see us! http://bit.ly/180eHX Password: Evolver" and I immediately clicked. Springsteen in Honolulu? I'd never been to Hawaii, and Bruce would've been a great excuse to go. The short link, however, brought viewers to the pre-sale for John Legend's Honolulu show. I clicked around TM's site to see if there was a different pre-sale and the link was mistaken.

But no. @springsteen immediately updated, "Sorry folks…please ignore that…I'm not coming to Hawaii soon…!" and deleted the mistake tweet.

A slightly different version appeared  in Legend's first-person Twitter three minutes later. Sony #fail. While I'm a huge fan of both artists, I was disappointed and not surprised. The Bruce pre-delete screencap:

Follow-up on that snippet from Glastonbury. Via Consequence of Sound: "Sure, The Boss's guest appearance during The Gaslight Anthem's set at Glastonbury last weekend wasn't much more than some strumming and singing along(?) while the band performed The 59 Sound. But there was just something about Brian Fallon's introduction — 'Do you hear something? What's the sound like? I hear like the waves of my hometown… Is somebody back there?' — and the resulting crowd reaction that makes the video below worthwhile."

In related news, I've got my tickets for the 9:30 Club show this fall.

Too awesome. Good for them. The song: The '59 Sound. The place: Today/tonight in Glastonbury, via SPL. "Ain't supposed to die on a Saturday night now, ain't supposed to die on a Saturday night…"

Sunday's Guardian runs a mid-90s fax from Strummer (via SPL).

Bruce is great… If you dont agree with that you're a pretentious Martian from Venus. Bruce looks great… like he's about to crawl underneath the chords with a spanner and sock the starter motor one time so that an engine starts up — humming and ready to take us on a golden ride way out somewhere in the yonder… Bruce is great because he'll never lay down and be conquered by his problems… He's always ready to bust out the shack and hit the track… His music is great on a dark and rainy morning in England, just when you need some spirit and some proof that the big wide world exists,the D.J. puts on 'Racing in the Streets' and life seems worth living again, life is in Cinemascope again. Bruce is not on an ego trip… Bruce is actually into music. We need people like this… A lot of records today are made by people just to feed their fame. Bruce is great… There aint no whinging, whining or complaining… There's only great music, lyrics and an ocean of talent. Me? I love Bruce Springsteen!!!  Joe Strummer

That you, Boss? Hope so. Booted guy, now @springsteen_fan, did well.

In the Post story on a YouTube star, now getting requests: "It's like you are a kid playing with Legos and someone says, 'Build this house for me.' And you are like, 'Oh, okay, I get it. I'm in construction now.' "

Last week's thing was an attempt of sorts to get back to playing with Legos. To get out of a blockquote slump, literally and figuratively, start with a thought and pour all shapes and colors of loose bricks onto the table to see what you build. What results — a baseball park, a North Pole workshop, the house where you stay at the beach — is going to look ridiculous on the table next to the formal, instructed constructions, but at least you remember how to create. You remind yourself you can.

The thought last week was considering heart as distinct from self. The former's part of the latter, but they're not the same, not when a mind and body (and soul, as one friend added later) are in there too. Each of the self's parts also has to live in the world, and the heart, the most involuntary and reactionary of the bunch, has to work hardest to fit in.

The songs sitting in the back of my mind at the time and through the past couple weeks have been two from odd corners of I Am Trying to Break Your Heart, which I finally saw, years overdue. Early in the movie, there's Not for the Season (lyrics and concert video) eventually released outside Wilco, and I've been struggling to interpret it: "Summer comes and gravity undoes you / You're happy because of the lovely way the sunshine bends / Hiding from your close friends / Weeding out the weekends." Then chorus: "Candy left over from Halloween / A unified theory of everything / Love left over from lovers leaving / Books, they all know they're not worth reading / It's not for the season."

SongMeanings.net has no great answers on it. Says the most recent song commenter, "This song means to me that Jeff Tweedy is a freakin' genius." But another reader points in a direction, "The words are kind of depressing, but there's a kind of unexplainable hope in there." It's attempting to explain that hope that turns up a good try at a meaning. A Stylus piece says of the song, "The eighteenth century literary critic Motoori Norinaga coined the term mono no aware to describe Japanese literature that emphasized the deep impression of time's passage and combined a serene acceptance of life's transience with an appreciation of 'the gentle pleasures found in our mundane pursuits.' "

You know this blog and you know me — I like and fight with this idea. In an old posting, it was the almost-quiet of Springsteen's County Fair that caught my attention one night, walking in late. The annual arrival of the fair and its traditions — known too well, in good ways — are set against the last line (lyrics and music), home and holding the girl in the yard after the fair, "Oh I wish, I'd never have to let this moment go."

You clearly can't hold on, but you count on the fair and night returning. There are different verisons of Not for the Season out there, studio and live. I think I like the rock one the best, a beat ongoing. Audio is here.

But onto the other I Am Trying to Break Your Heart song that's been on my mind, a rare cover: Be Not So Fearful. Mp3 here, lyrics are here, yes.

Finally, the Hangin' Out on E Street video series gives me a favorite. After Gaslight Anthem, Pete Yorn and a host of others have produced basic and/or timid covers, new-to-me Serena Ryder makes Racing in the Street her own in just the right way. Across the top, the changes aren't too dramatic, but she tweaks phrasing throughout and the details add up to more. The end riff is also intriguing because it doesn't mimic the song's original solo piano play-out at all but works in the few seconds we hear it. Play that sucker out. Via Steve and Paul's Facebook feeds.

Anyone got a bed near Monmouth? Got news late Sunday about this:

Dear Mr. Patrick Cooper,

I'm pleased to let you know that your abstract titled "Springsteen and the struggle with the distributed narrative" has been accepted for the Glory Days Symposium to be held September 25-27 in New Jersey. …

Don't know yet if I have to write a paper. Hoping a Powerpoint deck and some good arguments will do the job. Guess I'll find out…

Folks have asked what was up with that one, so here are a few more details, crossposted from Fb: Springsteen held up fan signs for Hava Nagila and Blinded, asking the band to choose. Max quickly began the beat for the former, and Roy joined in. (Both make Jewish rocker lists, and Max has wedding and bar mitzvah band time.) The two went for about half a minute before segueing into Blinded. If anyone other than the Big Man had a chair, who knows how far they could've gone with it.

The BTX crowd appears to be not be counting it in the setlist, and they're probably right on that, not enough played. Had it been played all the way through, it would not have been a world premiere. See the setlist of 2004 Bruce Springsteen and Friends Holiday Show at Harry's Roadhouse (late show) and, courtesy BTX, the excellent mp3.

Between the clapping, the fist pumping, the hand raising, the chest drumming, the pushing away the drunk, the good neighbor drumming, the pogo-ing, the thigh drumming, and the sometimes unrestrainable need to dance, the quality of my photos tonight makes great sense.

Kitty's Back was everything I've spent the last decade hoping it would be live, and with the Phantom gone and Clarence ailing, the funk took a kickass rock turn. The Nils Joad solo delivered on its fan hype in his hometown (even thought I totally missed the fretcam while watching him spin around), and we all owed a Righteous Brother thanks tonight for writing Little Latin Lupe Lu, one of my all-time favorite Bruce covers and one of the reasons a word like "rave-up" must exist. And Rosalita redeemed herself from Fedex with tight grab-somebody exhaustion… Prompting it? Obama/Rosie campaign sign. Well played, random fan.

We also got a Hava Nagila intro to Blinded, like Kitty, Lupe Lu and Seeds — the solos sure help there — another one I'd never seen before (my songs-heard-live tally moves to 124). The Greetings craziness was way more solid than throwaway, and Max and Roy were all over the intro, representing. From the new album, The Wrestler was as expected the standout. Had been reading the setlists, didn't have my hopes up for What Love Can Do. Not on the album, a cover of Stephen Foster's Hard Times Come Again No More came across as a striped escapee from the Seeger tour, but I liked reading the lyrics later. "Many days you have lingered around my cabin door, oh! Hard times, come again no more…"

Thanks so much to Kristen for partnering in line-wait and rock. (For the many of you playing along at home, the answer's no, but thank you for playing.) We were dead center, my first time in that sound sweet-spot, happy a few rows behind the rail. Good to run into Matt and Andrew, sorry not to have seen Cat, J. O'Neal, Ken, Katie, and Russell as well.

Tired. Time for the hay-hittin' sleep-makin' early-wakin' legendary me. Now play a dream of what fretcam must've been like. Dream as fretcam? Dream dissolves into another: But she's so soft, she's so blue, when he looks into her eyes, he just sits back and sighs, ooh, what can I do, ooh, what can I do — crash! A piano falls on me, keys go flying. But I like it.