Seger file

Seger thought he was old when Night Moves came out. I remember a member of my band used to say he was going into country music someday because they don't care how old you are Robert Hillburn, L. But I actually felt more embarrassed about it when I was 31 -- then I really felt old. But it was nothing compared to when I was At 18, I wanted to get big enough so that I would make maybe 20 grand a year between the ages of 25 and After that, I figured, I would be burned out and go travel through Europe.

The revival shows in the '50s and '60s didn't make me feel very optimistic about the future of rock. Even when they featured people I really admired, like Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley, it all had the air of a last hurrah.

I'm happy it didn't turn out that way, that they're still viable. I'm also at the age when I'd like to have a child. If and when that happens, I'd like to do what John Lennon did with his second child and be there for the kid the first five years.

In the meantime, I'm going to keep performing as long as it feels relevant and I feel I can give it my best. I look around and see friends of mine with 15 year-old sons and daughters I think I really missed that whole thing doing what I do. I hate to say it, but it's the only thing that I can think of. Seger told writer Roy Trakin that he voted for Reagan in I always vote and you've got to take the one you've voted for.

I didn't think much of Carter, either, so I voted for John Anderson in Seger appeared onstage with Dukakis in Michigan campaign appearances in The Seger Work Ethic. Seger believes in hard work "because tomorrow someone's going to come along and we're just going to be irrelevant. Seger has often mentioned the advice he got from Freddy "Boom Boom" Cannon:.

Graff: Growing up in the '50s, Seger witnessed "an era when pop stars, even Little Richard, were old hat after two, three years. We've always done what we've done, and I've seen em come and go for 20 years. In the late '60s, I was intimidated by Alice Cooper, but I never painted my face. It wouldn't work if I did change: I wouldn't feel comfortable. I put together my first band in high school, the three-piece Decibels, in order to help earn money for my family and spending money for school clothes.

Rock and roll was helping to meet my basic needs. And the music I listened to on the radio kept me feeling positive and hopeful in the same way. Ever since then, I've been working for a living, supporting myself and I've always had the bills and everything over my shoulder.

This last six months is the first time I didn't have to worry about money. After high school, it was work work work. For the next four and half years, I worked six nights a week, five sets a night, until I made my first record. And then when I made that record we started touring. Either that, or in some cases, it was drugs. There's only three acts I can think of that really kept at it, kept pounding away.

The others just burned themselves out. I tried living there a bit when I was married to Annette and I wouldn't want to do it anymore. I thought having a lot of entertainment around me would inspire me, but it didn't work that way. It was deadening. Back here I can work, and then I can come home and put it away. Because at my age, Florida looks pretty good -- in about three years, I'll be 54 and I might be looking hard at those golf courses.

But nope. Seger is 32 years old and has been on the road half his life.. But I say it with a flat Midwestern accent. I didn't realize it until the last few years. It was Randy Newman who told me I wrote in sort of Midwestern language. My accent is Midwest, words like gonna, gotta I write the way I talk. There was a definite hopelessness of abject poverty that has always crept into everything I've ever done.

There's a little bit of desperation -- just a little bit. Because I've been there. I've been broke. I used to think -- it's funny -- but I used to think that the most frightening thing was to ever blow it and have to go back to it. But now I'm pretty well set for life. I'm not so frightened anymore. Three days later, he played in front of 76, devoted fans in the Pontiac Silverdome outside Detroit.

For those of us under his spell, he posed the two greatest questions in rock 'n' roll: Doncha ever listen to the radio? He wrote the first anti-war rock song of the Vietnam era. His songs, he thinks, reflect a certain morality The characters in many of his songs don't find the satisfaction or fulfillment that they thought their dreams would hold.

They end up "stuck in heaven," listening to the sound of something far away -- a bird on the wing, the sound of thunder. They think back on the promise of younger years, surprised at the passage of time.

Only occasionally do they find renewal. More often, they try to make some moment last; they watch it slipping past. The light fades from the screen. They wake up alone. Next time, perhaps, they'll get it right.

He went cruising on his gray snake till his dying day. He even sang the parts the instruments were playing. He knows the devil is red, but his money is green. His '60 Cadillac went cruising through Nebraska, whining. He woke one night to the sound of thunder. He wishes he didn't know now what he didn't know then. They used to call him reckless, they used to call him fast. After twenty years, he saw himself again. The musical guest that night, coincidentally, was Chuck Berry.

Was this really a video? There was live concert footage interspersed with auto production line footage. Snippets of it were shown on the Later With Bob Costas show in According to Punch, MTV shied away from playing it much, because they thought it was about drugs But who could tell? Seger: "It's done in black and white with a blue tint.

There's no lip synch. It's like a little movie, but I wouldn't call what I do acting. It's more like reacting to the art direction of the set around you. You're just sort of there, like a prop. I stand and make facial gestures. It was still frightening to me, but it was a nice way to ease into it. For this album, I'm putting my trust in the directors, but, hopefully, by the next one, I'll have a better grip on how I want to utilize video as a tool. At this point, I'm still an infant.

Hopefully, after awhile, you get better at it. The photo above is a still shot from the video, sent to me by Peter Blachley, who worked in the video division of Capitol at the time.

The photo was taken by Henry Diltz. It was shot at a railroad museum in Perris, California.