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Best Rock Album, Best Rock Song nominations cement Bruce's return, as he makes "Magic" onstageThere are those moments when the music is all that matters. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, any clutter clears away and all that remains is the direct connection between artist and listener. It's as if you're surfacing from being underwater and are gratefully getting that first deep gasp of fresh air. But until the oxygen hits your lungs and you feel reborn, you don't even realize you'd been holding your breath.

So it is for me and Bruce Springsteen. I first saw him in 1980. I went to college in Nashville, but Music City wasn't on the itinerary so several of us made a road trip to nearby Murfreesboro to Middle Tennessee State University. He was touring to support "The River." My love was deep and instant. I'd never seen someone work so hard to win over an audience or witnessed an artist so possessed by his performance. The music radiates from Springsteen's whole body: his heels tap, his shoulder's tense and pulse, he swaggers all over that stage, exhorting the audience to join him in leaving everything but the music outside the arena. Over the last 27(!) years, I've seen him somewhere between 15 and 20 times in at least six different cities and in venues ranging from 2,000-seat theaters to 50,000-capacity stadiums.

While he's never been anything less than good, some of the shows have been so great they are in my personal concert hall of fame. In fact, first place among the hundreds of concerts I've seen is an April 1988 show at the Los Angeles Sports Arena touring behind the "Tunnel of Love" album. For those not familiar with the album, it is one of the best discs ever made about love and how difficult it is to keep it once you've already achieved the nearly impossible feat of finding it in the first place.

Springsteen was still married to first wife Julianne Phillips; he even carried her out on stage and twirled her around that evening. But anyone who had listened to "Tunnel of Love" knew the lights were going out on that marriage. He played for three-hours-plus as if his very life depended upon the connection he made with us. Those were the days when he and the E Street Band mixed hi-jinks with the music — Springsteen would get a running start and slide between saxophonist Clarence Clemon's legs or guitarist Nils Lofgrin would do a backflip.

So I had high hopes for the Oct. 29 show. It would be my first time returning to the Los Angeles Sports Arena since seeing him there in 1988. It had only been probably two or three years since my last Springsteen concert, but much in my life had changed since then. Plus, a few weeks earlier, he had released the Grammy-nominated "Magic," his best album since "Tunnel of Love" for my money. My companion had never seen Springsteen live before but was more than willing to experience what I had raved about and also live by my Springsteen rules, which include getting to the show in time to be in your seat before the lights go down and not leaving until the last note has been played.

I don't have such strict rules for any other artists, but that's because I know no other artist that creates the trusting communion between himself and his audience that Springsteen does. And here's the key: Springsteen needs us just as much as we need him — if not more — and he makes no bones about that fact. There are artists who go for years without touring — not Springsteen. It's still a big deal when he comes through town, but he's not one to stay away for more than a few years, simply because he can't. He had candidly talked about how the marathon show of yore were, in part, because he had nothing off-stage that made him feel as good as he felt when he was on it. Now, even though he's happily married and a dad, he still needs what he gets from the exchange with the public.

To which I say, thank God. As he showed again on Oct. 29, he's still a true believer, ready to, as Randy Lewis from the Los Angeles Times put it, "administer the sacrament of rock and roll." In past tours, Springsteen has even taken on the role of an evangelical preacher, skipping only the robe. He's toned that down, but the salvation that music can provide remains very real to Springsteen. He opened the show with "Radio Nowhere," the first single from "Magic" and a nominee for the Best Rock Song Grammy. Its driving pulse and repeated refrain of "Is anyone alive out there" is perfect to get the audience going, but it also sets up the continuous connection he is committed to making throughout the evening. With few exceptions, the music never ends. Before the chords from the last song end, Springsteen is usually strapping on a new guitar and counting off the next tune — a task he accomplishes better than anyone else in rock and roll.

The show was heavy on songs from "Magic," which sounded great, but need a little more breaking in before they have the spit and polish that older chestnuts have. While the pacing lagged at times, a blues-boogie infused "Reason to Believe" segued into "Candy's Room" into "She's the One" in 10 minutes of utterly blissful, joyful rock and roll the likes of which simply no one else can consistently deliver. To his credit, Springsteen still manages to play "Born to Run" with the urgency that the song — and the audience — demands.

This tour is a relatively short one that bypasses much of the country, but there's little doubt that he'll be back in the U.S. early next year after spending the rest of 2007 in Europe. The tickets, by no means cheap, are still affordable at $95 and $65. Start saving now ... because if you've seen Springsteen, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't and you love music, you owe it to yourself to see the absolute master while he remains at the peak of his game.

Melinda Newman is a Los Angeles-based entertainment journalist who writes for the Los Angeles Times, the Washington Post, Associated Press, the Hollywood Reporter and a number of other outlets. She is the former West Coast Bureau Chief for Billboard. Her love of music goes back to when she was a small girl who used to write down all the songs on "Casey Kasem's Top 40 Countdown" - lovingly and obsessively - on purple, lined notebook paper. She can be reached at melindanewman@ca.rr.com.