Charlie Puth covers Bruce Springsteen’s Growin’ Up for “Jersey 4 Jersey” Benefit Concert

But when they said, ‘Sit down,’ I stood up

Bon Jovi singlehandedly made New Jersey cool.

Or at least lifted it up from the depths.

Let’s see…

Newark? Nothing good ever happened there, other than maybe the birth of Philip Roth. Growing up in the sixties all you knew about the biggest city in New Jersey was the riots. To this day, most people cannot remember that the capital of the state is Trenton. New Jersey was not hip, it was where you lived if you couldn’t afford to reside in Westchester County. Sure, they had Atlantic City, but that was seedy…it’s still pretty seedy. As for the western part of the state? Residents there often say they live in Philly.

Never mind the swamps, the crime…if you’re gonna boast about the Garden State, you’re gonna have a hard time.

Until Bon Jovi. Who climbed out of the swamp to dominate MTV and to embrace his heritage.

So many of the Boss’s songs were about New York City. Bon Jovi embraced New Jersey, flew its flag high.

To the point where this special was aired, and many famous people from New Jersey, even if they no longer live there, appeared. Then again, the Boss moved back to Jersey from L.A. Generally speaking Jersey is someplace you’re from, not someplace you’re going to. But Bon Jovi legitimized it.

Now we’ve been enduring these streaming specials for a couple of weeks now, and no one has gotten it quite right. Too much gravitas, not enough humor. Give credit to Chelsea Handler, she tested the limits in this telecast, Jon Stewart was not wearing a suit, these were regular people doing regular things, in many cases the celebrities looked like us.

Especially Charlie Puth.

One unpredicted result of Covid-19 is the celebrity fallout. Even at this late internet date, “stars” don’t realize they’re seen as no better than the rest of us. Sure, there are nitwits who’ve barely reached puberty who adore them, but as soon as they can become influencers themselves, they see it’s all a scam. It’s all manipulated, and your only thing to sell is your credibility, your art, the public has not time for artifice, and certainly no time for grandiosity.

Like John Legend didn’t realize the public would see his awards.

Even on Bill Maher, the guests all show their books right up front.

Self-promotion in this time of self-quarantine looks bad. But shoving your accomplishments in our faces? No one remembers John Legend’s performance from the other night, but everybody remembers his tone-deaf display of his awards. Who cares about awards anyway. Legend is an entertainer, inoffensive, they didn’t give Lou Reed awards, or Led Zeppelin either, those pushing the envelope are too dangerous to get awards, the committees embrace them last, if at all. And now, when Billie Eilish can go from zero to hero overnight, it just illustrates that we’re all in this together, that the road from nowhere to somewhere can be seen. But it’s damn hard to achieve your goals, to ring the bell, and if you get there, you’d better be humble.

So you’re rich, so what? You couldn’t have made it without the spending of the public, pay fealty to the people, don’t brag, like David Geffen. Hell, if you post on Instagram you’re looking for positive feedback, otherwise why do it?

So, although at times somber, “New Jersey 4 New Jersey” had a lighter, more fluid feel.

But the Boss disappointed.

Yes, we cut Springsteen a break, he sings about the underclass, but when you see his rehearsal room, when he sings these dour non-hits, it’s hard to warm up to him, instead of making his point, he appears out of touch.

As for Jon Bon Jovi…his music is about bombast, about arenas, his studio was more low-key than Springsteen’s, but somehow, without the band, Bon Jovi emoted and it did not connect.

And then we’ve got Charlie Puth in his bedroom.

Puth doesn’t get a lot of respect. At best, people see him as talented. They know he went to Berklee, he’s got his pedigree, then again, we anoint those from the streets.

So, on this show, Puth seemed about sixteen. With a barely there moustache. As for the wifebeater… One couldn’t really understand… Was this about image? If so, it didn’t work so well. Or, was Puth really showing his roots, do he and his relatives wear these tank tops? I don’t know.

But unlike all the celebs of the past few weeks, livestreaming to embellish their image, Puth was playing from his bedroom, FROM HIS PARENTS’ HOUSE!!

Sure, he’s got a few bucks. God, maybe he even owns a house somewhere. Then again, he’s traveling all the time.

And who wants to hole up alone during this crisis?

And the bed is unmade. Most guys do this, after all, they’re gonna sleep in it again tonight.

And his dog ran in and out in the background, a black creature, not a show dog of some exotic breed which a famous person cradles in their arms and then discards.

And then Puth starts to play.

THIS WAS MUSIC!

He played a recognizable song, not even one of his own, but one of the Boss’s!

Yes, Charlie Puth upstaged Bruce Springsteen on this telecast.

So Puth starts tickling the ivories and…you start to smile, you start getting this tingle in your body, THIS IS MUSIC, THIS IS TALENT!

And sure, his voice is not perfectly matched to the song, being sweet and high register, but he can certainly sing, he’s got pipes.

And he’s singing “Growin’ Up.”

Bruce Springsteen was sold as the new Dylan. And “Greetings From Asbury Park” was made that way. You’d think this was some Woody Guthrie, a man and his guitar. In retrospect you can hear the band mixed down low, but in 1973 Bruce was not yet the Boss.

But he wanted to be.

“Greetings From Asbury Park” is stuffed with enough words for three albums. This is a guy who’s got something to say, who wants you to listen, who is doing his all to make it.

Now most people only knew Springsteen’s debut from the covers, by Manfred Mann most specifically. But if you purchased this LP when it came out, there were three tracks that stood out..”For You,” “It’s Hard to Be a Saint in the City” and “Growin’ Up.”

Well I stood stone-like at midnight
Suspended in my masquerade
I combed my hair ’til it was just right
And commanded the night brigade
I was open to pain and crossed by the rain
And I walked on a crooked crutch
I strolled all alone through a fallout zone
And came out with my soul untouched

It’s the last line that really matters. Life is about making you conform, kowtowing to your parents and then your boss. But rock and roll threw a wrench in that. The people who made it didn’t fit in, and those who didn’t fit in themselves glommed on and made these acts known, before the rest of the public came clamoring. That’s what engendered corporate rock, that’s what’s wrong with too much music today…it’s not about the identity, it’s not about the resonance, it’s about the sell. Even the performances evidence this. They’re for some theoretical rich people, billionaires, corporations, hovering above the arena, not even in attendance. It’s about making your mark so you can climb into the pantheon of wealth and exclusivity. But no one ever wanted Lemmy at their party. Once you’re invited, once you sell out…hell, even Iggy is acceptable these days, and in the Stooges days even insiders thought he was too outside.

And today you can fake it.

It’s de rigueur for someone else to write the material. Through trickery, you don’t even have to be able to sing well. Can you say J. Lo? But there are a zillion more. You just have to decide to be a music star, talent is secondary, whereas you can’t compete in sports through sheer desire.

But, Puth can play the piano, you marvel.

And he sings too!

And he hasn’t got a big rig, all he’s got is a laptop and an electric keyboard, and a mic, of course, that’s enough. Just like in the old days when you recorded to two track and performed live in the studio. If you’ve got the goods, the technology is not necessary, it’s at most the cherry on top. Today, it’s all about the cherry, the script has been flipped.

Springsteen was a star in his own mind in “Growin’ Up.” He lived in the stratosphere, untouched, if only everybody could see it.

And that’s how we felt, especially in the suburbs. We yearned to break out, from where we weren’t understood, where we weren’t accepted.

And Charlie Puth does not display that edge in this performance.

But what the music does is set your mind and body free, makes you hover above the floor, think about your hopes and dreams, makes you believe it’s gonna be all right, that you’re gonna survive, that it’s gonna work out for you…the performance gives you hope.

And isn’t that what we want right now?