Gig played on 11/11/06

The notion of the covers album is, by and large, one that signals a creative trough in the life of artist. Devoid of ideas and with much less to say, the concept comes to resemble a safety cushion designed to offer a safe and easy landing from a perilous fall from grace. Not so with New Jersey's poet laureate Bruce Springsteen. With this year's "We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions" album, the man they call The Boss culled a series of protest songs and spirituals that, as a blue-collar riposte to the havoc wreaked by George W Bush's administration both home and away, stands up proudly next to the best of his own work.

Augmented by the sixteen-piece Seeger Sessions Band, Springsteen kicks up one hell of a storm as zydeco collides with New Orleans jazz, honky-tonk and Cajun to the degree that you're left wondering as to when the can-can dancers are going to arrive. "Old Dan Tucker", "Jesse James" and a particularly boisterous "Pay Me My Money Down" are so rumbustious as to be utterly infectious as the usually sedate Wembley Arena takes to its feet for the mother of all hoedowns.

Springsteen, meanwhile, has lost none of the stagecraft that made his name; sweating profusely, this is a performer who infuses every moment of stage time with a passion and seemingly endless energy that shames artists half his age. Running from one side of the stage to the other, he exhorts maximum participation from all sectors of this vast and soulless venue. However, it's when he's at his most considered that Springsteen hits the spot. "My Oklahoma Home" is heartbreaking, the shock and awe of "Mrs Grath" takes on a special poignancy in light of Armistice Day and the continuing deaths in Afghanistan and Iraq, while the re-working of "Dust & Devils" is a particularly emotional highlight.

Indeed, the overhauls of his own material are stunning. "Blinded By The Light" and "Atlantic City" are skilfully re-arranged to sit comfortably with the vernacular ramalama that powers the evening, while an exhilarating reading of "You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch)" manages to touch so many American roots bases that it can't fail in its mission to bring the house down. If, as is rumoured, Glastonbury organiser Michael Eavis really did let The Boss slip though his fingers for the Saturday night 2007 headline slot then, based on this gloriously uproarious performance, he really did miss a trick.

by Julian Marszalek