Saxophonist Clarence Clemons, in June 2006.
Rolling Stone
Rolling Stone can confirm reports that Clarence Clemons has suffered a stroke. The news broke this evening at 411.com, which reported that Clemons is "seriously ill after a stroke at his home in Florida." We have no information on the severity of the stroke, but we have independently confirmed that the E Street Band saxophonist has suffered a stroke.
Clemons has gone through a series of medical ailments — mostly involving his back and knees — over the past decade. He hasn't missed any concerts, but the conditions caused him to suffer a tremendous amount of pain and discomfort. "That last tour was hell," Clemons told Rolling Stone in February. "Pure hell." In the past year Clemons had both knees replaced and spinal fusion surgery. "The timing was perfect because it didn't interfere with a lot of stuff that was going on in my life," he says. "It made me stronger, and for the past year I've been in physical therapy a few days a week working my ass off to get back in shape. I'm walking better now, though I still use a cane and crutches. But now I'm having hip problems again. I don't know why." Clemons on health problems, future of E Street Band
Clemons last performed with Springsteen and the E Street Band in December of 2010 at Asbury Park's Carousel House for a special web broadcast taping. He performs on two songs on Lady Gaga's new album "Born This Way," and just last month performed "Edge of Glory" with her at the season finale of "American Idol." He was supposed to play the national anthem before Game 2 of the NBA Finals last week, but a hand injury forced him to cancel at the last minute. He watched the game in the stands with Tim Hardaway and Alonzo Mourning.
When Rolling Stone spoke to Clemons in February he said that virtually nothing would take him off the road with Springsteen and The E Street Band. "As long as my mouth, hands and brain still work I'll be out there doing it," he said. "I'm going to keep going 'til I'm not there anymore. This is what's keeping me alive and feeling young and inspired. My spiritual teacher Sri Chinmoy told me that my purpose in life is to bring joy and light to the world, and I don't know any better way to do then what I'm doing now."
We'll have more information on Clemons' medical condition as the story develops.
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Legendary Saxophonist Clarence Clemons Dies
Clemons suffered a stroke on June 12.
 Clarence Clemons. (Getty Images) |
LOS ANGELES ( KTLA ) - Clarence Clemons, the saxophone player in Bruce Springsteen 's E Street Band, has passed away less than one week after he suffered a stroke, media reports said Saturday.
Rolling Stone first reported Clemons death Saturday afternoon. The media outlet claimed Clemons fell "seriously ill" after suffering the stroke at his Florida home on June 12.
Clemons, 69, started playing with Springsteen in 1971, and had notable solos on such tunes as "Born to Run," "Thunder Road" and "Badlands." He was dubbed "Big Man," which was also the title of a 2009 memoir he co-wrote with Don Reo.
Away from the E Street Band, Clemons enjoyed a hit single in 1985 with "You're a Friend of Mine," a duet with Jackson Browne. He also dabbled in acting, and worked with other artists including Ringo Starr, Aretha Franklin and Lady Gaga.
Clemons underwent double knee-replacement surgery in 2008, and walked for the first time in three months when Springsteen and the E Street Band played the Super Bowl early in 2009.
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Clarence Clemons, E Street Band Saxophonist, Dies at 69
By BEN SISARIO
Published: June 18, 2011
Clarence Clemons, the saxophonist in Bruce Springsteen’s E Street Band, whose jovial onstage manner, soul-rooted style and brotherly relationship with Mr. Springsteen made him one of rock’s most beloved sidemen, died Saturday at a hospital in Palm Beach, Fla. He was 69.
Scott Audette/Reuters
Clarence Clemons performed with the E Street Band during the Super Bowl halftime show in Tampa in February 2009.
Lucas Jackson/Reuters
Mr. Clemons in 2009.
From the beginnings of the E Street Band in 1972, Mr. Clemons played a central part in Mr. Springsteen’s music, complementing the group’s electric guitar and driving rhythms in songs like “Born to Run” and “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out” with muscular, melodic saxophone hooks that echoed doo-wop, soul and early rock ’n’ roll.
But equally important to the group’s image was the sense of affection and unbreakable camaraderie between Mr. Springsteen and his sax man. Few E Street Band shows were complete without a shaggy-dog story about the stormy night the two men met at a bar in Asbury Park, N.J., or a long bear hug between them at the end of the night.
Mr. Clemons also became something of a celebrity in his own right, acting in Martin Scorsese’s “New York, New York” and other films, and on television shows like “Diff’rent Strokes,” and jamming with President Bill Clinton at the 1993 inaugural ball.
A former college football player, Mr. Clemons towered over Mr. Springsteen at 6 feet 4 inches and about 250 pounds — his self-evident nickname was the Big Man — and for most of its history he stood out as the sole black man in a white, working-class New Jersey rock band. (The keyboardist David Sancious, who is also black, played with the group until 1974.) Onstage he had almost as much magnetism as Mr. Springsteen, and even if much of his time was spent hitting a cowbell or singing backup, he could still rile a stadium crowd with a few cheerful notes on his horn.
For many fans, the bond between Mr. Springsteen and Mr. Clemons was symbolized by the photograph wrapped around the front and back covers of the 1975 album “Born to Run.” In that picture, a spent yet elated Mr. Springsteen leans on a shoulder to his right for support; the flip side revealed that it belonged to Mr. Clemons.
“When you look at just the cover of ‘Born to Run,’ you see a charming photo, a good album cover, but when you open it up and see Clarence and me together, the album begins to work its magic,” Mr. Springsteen wrote in a foreword to “Big Man: Real Life and Tall Tales,” Mr. Clemons’s semifictional memoir from 2009, written with Don Reo. “Who are these guys? Where did they come from? What is the joke they are sharing?”
Clarence Anicholas Clemons was born on Jan. 11, 1942, in Norfolk, Va. His father owned a fish market and his grandfather was a Southern Baptist preacher, and although he grew up surrounded by gospel music, the young Mr. Clemons was captivated by rock ’n’ roll. He was given an alto saxophone at age 9 as a Christmas gift; later, following the influence of King Curtis — whose many credits include the jaunty sax part on the Coasters’ 1958 hit “Yakety Yak” — he switched to the tenor.
“I grew up with a very religious background,” he once said in an interview. “I got into the soul music, but I wanted to rock. I was a rocker. I was a born rock ’n’ roll sax player.”
Mr. Clemons was also a gifted athlete, and he attended Maryland State College (now the University of Maryland Eastern Shore) on a scholarship for football and music. He tried out for the Dallas Cowboys and the Cleveland Browns, but a knee injury ended his hopes for a football career.
He was working as a youth counselor in Newark when he began to mix with the Jersey Shore music scene of the late 1960s and early ’70s. He was older than Mr. Springsteen and most of his future band mates, and he has often commented on the oddity — even the liability — of being a racially integrated group in those days.
“You had your black bands and you had your white bands,” he wrote in his memoir, “and if you mixed the two you found less places to play.”
But the match was strong from the start, and his saxophone soon became a focal point of the group’s sound. In an interview with The New York Times in 2005, Jon Landau, Mr. Springsteen’s manager, said that during the recording sessions for “Born to Run” Mr. Springsteen and Mr. Clemons spent 16 hours finessing the jazzy saxophone solo on that album’s closing song, “Jungleland.”
Mr. Clemons’s charisma and eccentricity extended offstage. Wherever the band played, he made his dressing room into a shrine he called the Temple of Soul. He claimed to have played pool with Fidel Castro and won. And by many accounts, including his own, he was a champion partier on the road. He was married five times and divorced four. His fifth wife, Victoria, survives him, as do four sons: Clarence Jr., Charles, Christopher and Jarod.
Mr. Springsteen put the E Street Band on hiatus on 1989, and apart from reuniting for a recording session in 1995, the group did not play again until 1999. But by the mid-1980s, when Mr. Springsteen reached his commercial peak, Mr. Clemons had already found fame on his own. In 1985 he had a Top 20 hit with “You’re a Friend of Mine,” on which he sang with Jackson Browne, and played saxophone on records by Aretha Franklin and Twisted Sister. Recently he was featured on Lady Gaga’s album “Born This Way.”
Mr. Clemons’s first encounter with Mr. Springsteen has become E Street Band lore. In most tellings, a lightning storm was rolling through Asbury Park one night in 1971 while Mr. Springsteen was playing a gig there. As Mr. Clemons entered the bar, the wind blew the door off its hinges, and Mr. Springsteen was startled by the towering shadow at the door. Then Mr. Clemons invited himself onstage to play along, and they clicked.
“I swear I will never forget that moment,” Mr. Clemons later recalled in an interview. “I felt like I was supposed to be there. It was a magical moment. He looked at me, and I looked at him, and we fell in love. And that’s still there.”
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Clarence Clemons dies of complications from stroke
Published: Saturday, June 18, 2011, 7:56 PM Updated: Saturday, June 18, 2011, 8:55 PM
He was the spirit of the E Street Band, and the oaken staff that Bruce Springsteen leaned on. There have been many charismatic figures in the band, but none had the personal gravity of Clarence Clemons, the group’s Bunyanesque saxophonist.
Springsteen himself acknowledged this, always introducing Clemons last at concerts and adopting a reverential attitude uncommon among rock stars. It’s Clemons’ big shoulder that Springsteen was looking over lovingly on the famous cover of his "Born to Run" album. As his bandleader beamed at him, Clemons, black-hatted and bold, turned toward the camera and blew his sax.
Clemons seemed to be a character out of a storybook — or better yet, a widescreen movie about the triumph of a romantic gang of rock ’n’ roll renegades. Wildly popular among fans of the E Street Band, he was the sort of larger-than-life figure to whom legends accrued. Recognizing this, Clemons and Springsteen did much to play up those legends: "Big Man: Real Life and Tall Tales," Clemons’ 2009 autobiography written with Don Reo, combined genuine reflections with fiction in an attempt to capture the mythical quality of the musician.
Springsteen’s oft-told story of his initial meeting with Clemons felt Biblical: with a lightning storm raging outside, the Big Man tore the door off an Asbury Park club, strode onstage, and made magic. (Springsteen would later immortalize this meeting in "Tenth Avenue Freeze-out," a song on "Born to Run.")
Was this embellished? Most likely. But reality never seemed quite big enough to accommodate Clarence Clemons.
"Mere facts," wrote Bruce Springsteen in the preface to Clemons’ book, "will never plumb the mysteries of the Big Man."
Born in Norfolk, Va., Clemons was the son of a Baptist minister who had no love for raucous rock ’n’ roll. But at the age of 9, his family gave young Clarence an alto saxophone — and soon he discovered his lung power was formidable.
Enlarge Clarence Clemons poses for a photo during an interview Jan. 29, 2003, at his Singer Island, Fla. home. (AP Photo/Hillery Smith Garrison) Clarence Clemons: 'The Big Man' Through the Years gallery (11 photos)
Clemons called his instrument "a vehicle to move my spirit around."
"I don’t think it’s only my saxophone," Clemons told All Access Magazine in 2008, "it’s who I am. My spiritual guide … told me that my purpose in life was to bring joy into the world. He didn’t know about my music, he didn’t know who I was. He saw my heart, he saw my soul, and he saw my determination for this life."
On the tenor saxophone, Clemons developed a style that was considerably more than the sum of his influences: party-ready King Curtis, brassy Junior Walker, skronking Earl Bostic. Clemons could be tough, raspy and percussive, but as a carrier of melody, his shoulders were broad.
After playing with a number of Asbury Park outfits in the early ’70s, Clemons joined the as-yet-unnamed E Street Band in 1972. Along with bassist Garry Tallent, drummer Vini Lopez, organist Danny Federici, pianist Dave Sancious and Springsteen himself, Clemons was an original member of the group.
He was also the oldest, and it’s no exaggeration to suggest he was often treated as the in-house big brother. His saxophone became a pillar of the E Street sound, and helped anchor Springsteen’s storytelling in blues, jazz and gospel traditions.
"That night we first stood together," said Springsteen of Clemons during his Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction speech in 1999, "I looked over at C and it looked like his head reached into the clouds. And I felt like a mere mortal scurrying upon the earth, you know. But he always lifted me up. Way, way, way up. Together we told a story of the possibilities of friendship, a story older than the ones that I was writing and a story I could never have told without him at my side."
Clemons’ solos on songs like "Jungleland" and "Born to Run" were quintessential rock ’n’ roll sax rides — things of beauty and drama unmatched by efforts of thousands of imitators. But Clemons also took his support role seriously. On "Spirit in the Night," his graceful passages were part of a thick tapestry of sound. On "Hungry Heart," the E Street Band’s first Top 10 hit, his baritone sax tugged at the bottom of the track like taffy on the sole of a sneaker.
Bruce Springsteen performs Out in the Street Bruce Springsteen performs Out in the Street on 7/28/08 at Giants Stadium. Watch video With his instantly identifiable tone and passion for all varieties of popular music, Clemons was often in demand as a session musician. When E Street activities slowed in the ’80s and ’90s, Clemons had no difficulty finding work. He played on scores of records, including Aretha Franklin’s "Who’s Zooming Who," Twisted Sister’s "Come Out and Play" and Roy Orbison’s comeback "King of Hearts." In 1989, he joined the inaugural version of Ringo Starr’s All-Starr Band, where his charismatic stage presence and playful attitude fit in perfectly.
When Lady Gaga attempted to resurrect the glory of ’80s stadium rock on her recent album "Born This Way," she called in Clemons.
"The universe is there to give you what you want," Clemons told All Access about his multifaceted success. "You just need to be there to get it."
Clemons also released five solo albums under his own name. "Hero," a 1985 set produced by Narada Michael Walden, gave him a hit duet (with Jackson Browne): "You’re a Friend of Mine," a song, ironically, about the relationship between Clemons and Springsteen. Even on his solo sets, the sax player could not elude the shadow of the Boss.
For two years, Clemons operated Big Man’s West, a rock venue in Red Bank that became something of a clubhouse for the E Street team and affiliated acts. Springsteen himself appeared at Big Man’s close to 20 times. Although the club closed its doors for good in 1983 for financial reasons, its existence helped revive the Shore sound. Many of the musicians who’d rock the Garden State (and beyond) during the late ’80s took the stage at Big Man’s, including Jon Bon Jovi and John Eddie.
Stone Pony founder Butch Pielka warned the saxophonist about the perils of running a rock club.
"He offered me some advice in the beginning, like, ‘Get out of the business,’ " Clemons told The Star-Ledger this year. "My accountant agreed with him: ‘Just consider that you had a party for two and a half years, and invited all your friends, and you picked up the tab.’ That’s what it was like."
Clemons’ celebrity never quite faded. But in recent years, a series of debilitating ailments kept him out of the limelight. The Big Man was felled by multiple spinal surgeries and knee replacements. Undeterred, he continued to blow from his wheelchair. ("He’s always on time, he’s always in pain," wrote Don Reo in "Big Man.")
The musician lived long enough to see "Who Do I Think I Am?," a documentary about his life, air at the Paramount Theatre in his beloved Asbury Park this April. Hobbled by his health problems, he nevertheless took the stage at the Paramount and answered questions and signed autographs, smiling all the while.
Under the stagelights, surrounded by those who loved him, Clemons was in his element. Pushing 70, he rehabbed hard, hoping for a chance to join the E Street Band on tour in 2012.
He told Rolling Stone magazine in February that as long as he had a mouth, a brain and a pair of hands, he would keep on playing. Nobody who saw Clemons perform would ever have doubted it: his dedication was total. The saxophone was a conduit for his spirit, he assured us, and that spirit was a colossus.
Far beyond the boardwalks of Asbury Park, those big notes will keep echoing.
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