Elsewhere, Reo offers (to paraphrase Bruce Springsteen’s “Glory Days”) “nothin’ but boring stories” of hanging on the Big Man’s coattails. “Flying with Bruce and the band is the same as flying with anybody else, only it’s a thousand fucking times better,” he effuses. Gee, ya think?
Clemons is the first E Streeter to write (or co-write) a memoir, but there are no revelations here, unless you’re riveted by accounts of double knee-replacement surgery. Ceding the spotlight to Reo, the Big Man repeats the role he plays on stage with Springsteen and offers the literary equivalent of a sax solo. Except, this book is no “Jungleland.”
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