Nils Lofgren, left, and Bruce Springsteen, run through the hits Monday, Oct. 29, at the L.A. Sports Arena.

BY FRED SHUSTER>LA.COM

Bruce Springsteen tours with a Xerox machine.

That's right — a full-board copier, just like the one in the corner of your office. And not only that, he has a roadie on staff whose only job is to add toner.

The reason is, Bruce makes up the night's song list just before he and the E Street Band take the stage. So he has to make copies for everyone involved, from the musicians to that poor lonely guy from the food bank who sits in the lobby waiting for someone to donate a can of tuna.

Actually, the copier thing is just a myth, one of many myths that surround the hard-working rock star. It only adds to the image, though, along with the scuffed boots,  Fender Telecasters and songs about remaining honest in a dishonest world.

At the L.A. Sports Arena on Monday, the much-hyped billionaire folk hero made all the right moves and said all the right things to have the place in the palm of his hand for a nearly three-hour recital of tracks from his new album and older material.

For those that don't swallow it whole, the evening was enjoyable when nostalgia reigned. "Born to Run," "Backstreets" and "Candy's Room" all sounded terrific in the utilitarian, boomy sports venue. Newer stuff from the current record "Magic" didn't fare as well.

Springsteen, as usual, was in fine form, singing at the top of his lungs and moving around the stage like someone who was born there. The night, though, had the faint whiff of a white pride rally, and the only black faces in the crowd were wearing yellow jackets with the word "security" printed on the back.

The place looked like the San Diego fire evacuation center, but with longer lines for water and t-shirts.

The Boss'  political commentary, in which he spoke of "truth twisted into lies and lies twisted into truth," hit home, although he was clearly preaching to the converted.

The E Street outfit provided muscular support, typified by Nils Lofgren's always capable solos and rhythm work. But poor old Clarence Clemons, the saxophonist who's had some medical problems, was often left over on the side of the stage to sit and play percussion when he wasn't needed at the fore.

You could almost hear him say, "C'mon guys, don't leave me over here."

At over two hours, the timing was just right, although longtime Bruce fanatics will grumble. I first saw him in 1978 at San Francisco's Winterland and at five hours minimum, it was the longest rock show I've ever witnessed. It was so long, in fact, that by the time I got home, my roommate had graduated law school.

These days, Springsteen, who returns to the Sports Areana on Tuesday (Oct. 30), paces himself and his audience better. And thankfully so because we want him to be singing for many years to come.

Fred Shuster (818) 713-3676

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