OldTroubador's blog post - The Jukebox Playing My Favorite Songs, Part II

Southside Johnny was, for years, the house band at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park, NJ. He and Bruce Springsteen collaborated on many songs; Bruce also wrote some for Southside and Southside wrote some for Bruce. They could often be found joining the other on stage and members of each band would sit in with the other, whenever possible.
Growing up in central New Jersey in the late 70’s, these two groups, along with some other regionally known bands, formed the New Jersey sound. My circle of friends and I would listen to them, and Chicago, Earth, Wind, and Fire, and many other groups like that. But Southside and Bruce were the local heroes and were our “go-to” music when we got together. They also were the foundation of countless garage bands throughout the state.

Including ours. We spent the school year performing with the high school orchestra, concert band, marching band, and big band. But the summer was for us. Yeah, our band played dances at the junior high school and hit the high school stage a few times a year, but summer was when we really got our groove on.

Those hot summer nights. Get in from work, hit the shower and get a quick bite. Then, with an axe in one hand and a six-pack of Michelob in the other, we would head on out. It didn’t matter if it was practice, a jam session, or a paying gig. We lived to play. County fairs and block parties. Anywhere there was a crowd. When we had practice, folks would come by to listen and start dancing in the streets. We’d set it up, plug it in, flip the switches on and let it just wail. The bass and drums hitting the backbeat, the guitars and keyboard laying down some hot licks, and the horn section putting up a wall of sound. We didn’t just listen to the music, we made it the soundtrack of our youth.

Then we would tear it down and pack it away until tomorrow night. We’d climb into our cars – ’76 Impalas and ’73 LTD’s. We’d roll down the windows, turn up the radio, and with one hand on the wheel and our other arm around our best girl, we would go screaming down the boulevard, knowing there was magic in the night. We’d spring from cages on Highway 9, we were four wheeled, fuel injected, and stepping out over the line. On nights when the band wasn’t playing, we could be found cruising the backstreets, staying off the mean streets, looking for a secluded place where we could learn about love, or what we thought was love.

Then, the next night, or the night after, we would set it all up and do it again. It was summertime. The nights were hot, the beer cold, and the girls warm and wonderful. And we were having a party. Listening and playing the soundtrack of our lives.

Righteous.