Halfway through the show, with dozens of yachts from Marin County moored along the outside of the baseball diamond and the thundering crowd on its feet, “Bruuuuce” hoots left and right, my spiritual priorities changed. From then on, whenever I have wanted to understand history and art, or longed to feel the weight of generations and the universal power of story, I have left it up to places of worship. When I’ve wanted a soul-charging, life-affirming experience in which I can feel part of something greater than myself, I’ve gone to see the Boss.

Author Téa Obreht, recounting her first rock concert when she was a teenager and recent immigrant from Yugoslavia via Cairo. Vogue, May 2012, p. 128