Bruce Springsteen idolised these Jersey brothers – then one was killed in Vietnam
HALFWAY through Bruce Springsteen’s solo act on Broadway, the Boss reminisces about two bar- band rockers he idolized in New Jersey in the 1960s.
Walter and Raymond Cichon were the frontman and lead guitarist of a band called the Motifs. “They were gods,” Springsteen tells the audience.
On Walter: “On stage, he was deadly, and he was aloof and raw and sexual and dangerous.”
On Raymond: “Raymond was my guitar hero.”
But the memories about a pair of little-known musicians takes a sorrowful turn: Walter was killed in 1968 in the Vietnam War, a disclosure that, following such loving tributes, prompted slight gasps in the audience when I saw the show earlier this month.
On Saturday, “Springsteen on Broadway” ends its 14-month and 236- show run at the Walter Kerr Theatre in New York. Sunday, the Boss’ show launches globally on Netflix, offering the experience at a far more affordable price point to fans who had been unwilling or unable to cough up the hundreds or thousands of dollars for tickets. For Springsteen-philes, not much he says in the 975- seat theatre may be new. A great deal of the script is based on his 2016 book, “Born to Run” .
But his stories about the Cichon brothers stick out. Outside of his mother, father and his wife, Patti Scialfa, Springsteen doesn’t speak at length in the performance about many other people, let alone name them. ( Some of the omissions are tantalizing: Who was the music big wig who checked out Springsteen’s band in 1971 at a show in Asbury Park only to sleep with Springsteen’s then- girlfriend and leave town?)
But Springsteen does devote about eight minutes of his nearly three-hour show to the Cichons. He winds his way to the brothers by first recounting the time he’d run into the anti-war activist Ron Kovic in 1980 at a hotel in Los Angeles. Kovic, paralysed in a wheelchair, introduced himself to Springsteen, who, coincidentally, had just read Kovic’s book, “Born on the Fourth of July”. Kovic invited Springsteen to visit a veteran’s centre in Venice, California, the next day to meet wounded soldiers. When he arrived, Springsteen says he struggled to relate. His life seemed frivolous compared to theirs:
“It all made me think of my own friends from back home. It was Walter Cichon. Walter Cichon was the greatest rock ‘ n’ roll front man on the Jersey Shore in the bar-band ‘60s. He was in a group called the Motifs. He was the first real rock star I ever laid my eyes on. He had it in his bones and in his blood and in the way he dressed and carried himself ... In our little area, he showed us by the way that he lived. That you could live your life the way you chose. You could look the way you wanted to look. If you had the courage you could play the music that was in your heart that you wanted and needed to play. You could be who you wanted to be. You could tell anybody who didn’t like it to go (expletive) themselves and still be all right.”
Then, Springsteen tells a hilarious bit about Walter’s brother Raymond:
“Big Ray. Big Ray was this big, tall, kind of sweetly clumsy guy. But he was one of those big guys who just isn’t comfortable with his size. Wherever he is, he’s always either knocking into (expletive) and ( expletive)’s falling over. Somewhere inside of Big Ray there was a Little Ray crying to get out. There was not enough space for Raymond wherever he was. But he dressed impeccably with these pastel shirts. Pink. Lime. Lime green. Baby blue. Long pointed collar ... Sharkskin pants. Nylon see-through socks. Spit-shine shoes. Slick-back black hair with one little curl that hung down perfectly when he was playing the guitar. Raymond was my guitar hero.”
Walter and Raymond, Springsteen explains, had day jobs. Walter worked in construction, Raymond sold shoes. They weren’t famous. The Motifs never produced any major records or filled arenas. They had one semi-hit song called “Molly”. But he still worshiped them: “The hours I spent standing in front of their band, studying, studying, studying, class in session, night after night, taking it all in, watching Ray’s fingers f ly over the fret board.”
These nights, Springsteen says, were “essential to my development as a young musician.” Then, he adds: “I loved them. I loved these men.”