New Jersey Hall Of Fame Induction and Acceptance Speeches
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Bruce Springsteen's Induction Speech For Patti Scialfa
Hello, New Jersey. It’s so cool to be here tonight for my baby. Patti Scialfa was brought up in Deal, New Jersey, on the Jersey Shore. Her father Joe was Sicilian and her mom was from Belfast, in Northern Ireland. So I got to behave myself! And together we carry on the Irish-Italian mating tradition so prevalent along our little stretch of the Jersey Shore. Now Patti went to school at Asbury High, and to college at the University of Miami’s jazz conservatory, the Frost School. She later transferred to New York University’s Gallatin School, where she earned her undergraduate degree in music. She worked singing on the streets of New York with her lifelong friends Soozie Tyrell and Lisa Lowell, in their band Trickster. She also, with her own original band, she played all the great New York City clubs: Kenny’s Castaways, Folk City, Trax, The Bitter End. Patti worked and sang with Narada Michael Walden, David Sancious, David Johansen and, of course, our own Southside Johnny.
I met Patti at the Stone Pony. Where else? She was sitting in with the house band, Cats on a Smooth Surface. I heard that voice and I wondered, “Who is that girl?” I went to find out. We went out for cheeseburgers at the Inkwell in my ’60 Corvette. And the die was set for many cheeseburgers to come.
Patti was street-smart, fascinating, lovely, a sexy, beautiful redhead with a sound completely her own. The E Street Band was good at many things, but singing harmony was not one of them. So when I met Patti, I felt like I found my secret weapon. In 1984, I asked her to join the E Street Band. While playing with us, she also worked with Keith Richards on his “Talk Is Cheap” album, and with The Rolling Stones, on their “Dirty Work” album. She sang with Don Covay, the great Bobby Womack and Ivan Neville. In 1993, she released her first solo album “Rumble Doll,” co-produced by Patti and Mike Campbell of the Heartbreakers. It remains an undiscovered gem of a record that has lost none of its luster over time. … She went on to record and produce, with Steve Jordan, her second album, “23rd Street Lullaby,” and third record, “Play It As It Lays,” once again, co-producing with Steve Jordan and Ron Aniello. Both are wonderful pieces of work, which if she hadn’t been married to some suck-the-air-out-of-the-room attention whore, they would be much more widely known. So as a songwriter, Patti is second to none. She has three albums out of greatly written work. Her deft lyrical work and her feeling for its soulful accompaniment is her hallmark.
Patti’s interest in social issues led her to executive-produce “Shelter Me: Soul Awakened,” about reducing recidivism in prison by sponsoring prisoners to care for and train shelter animals, to become service dogs, and she won an Emmy for this project in 2021. She is a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame member, inducted with the E Street Band in 2014. She just finished her fourth album, and it will be released in the coming year. She performed on Broadway with me in 2017, graced my stage with her lovely voice for the 20 months of our run. She was the high point of the show. And she did all of this while parenting three now 30-plus-year-olds and becoming a grandmother. So, it’s wonderful she’s being honored tonight. It’s long, long deserved. I love her. She’s a Jersey girl, through and through. …
Patti Scialfa's Acceptance Speech
Thank you, Bruce. That was, like, really a lot of compliments, all in a row. I’m going to get a recording of that and play it for myself before I go to sleep. Or, ask him to say it again.
There’s a scene in the film “Almost Famous” where the character of Cameron Crowe receives a parting gift from his sister. It’s a crate filled with all her favorite records that he pulls out from underneath the bed. The albums happen to be some of the most seminal records that I listened to as a kid, and probably, for a lot of people in this room, I’m sure that scene touched many people as deeply as it touched me. Holding those album covers in your hand made you feel as if you were touching another world. A world you wanted to be a part of, but had no idea how to get there. It’s a mystery. It’s a ticket to a magical destination that you long for, where you imagine people will speak your personal, secret language.
Music is powerful. It’s just so powerful. All kinds of music. … It can inform you. It can resonate back to you a part of who you are, who you’d like to become. I was fortunate to meet and work with so many brilliant musicians and artists, and find a piece of that world, a little piece of that world for myself. And I’m so deeply grateful to the many people I’ve worked with who have reflected back to me the beauty and transformative power of music. Thank you to the New Jersey Hall of Fame for including me in such esteemed and beautiful company.
Steven Van Zandt's Induction Speech for David Chase
Every couple of decades or so, somebody comes along and changes the game. The nice thing about being from New Jersey is they never see us coming. In New Orleans, Louis Armstrong did it for jazz. Chicago — Willie Dixon did it for the blues. Macon, Georgia — Little Richard did it for rock ‘n’ roll.
Now, occasionally, the game changers don’t get the credit. Especially us Italians. After all, everybody knows, Alessandro Volta invented the lightbulb but that shifty Thomas Edison filled out the paperwork. And then, everybody knows, Antonio Meucci invented the telephone, but that rat Alexander Graham Bell filled out the paperwork. But one game-changing Italian that does get the credit, at least tonight — no paperwork necessary — is the guy who revolutionized domestic adult entertainment, otherwise known as cable TV, with a little show called “The Sopranos.” Without “The Sopranos,” there would be no “Wire,” no “Breaking Bad,” no “Mad Men,” no “Boardwalk Empire,” no “Ray Donovan.” Most importantly, God forbid, no “Lilyhammer.” … And HBO would have never (made) “Game of Thrones.” You can forget about that one, too. (“The Sopranos”) transformed a medium that once was … let’s face it, mostly mindless entertainment, with narrative depth, ambiguous morality, elevated anti-heroes to protagonists, and took TV from the bottom of the entertainment hierarchy, all the way to the top. Now that he has accomplished this miracle, what’s he want to do? He wants to make movies. The industry he single-handedly made irrelevant. But that’s the kind of guy he is. Uncompromising, unrelenting, innovative, idealistic, romantic to a fault, and yet a cynical, self-destructive contrarian … my kind of guy. …
It is my honor and pleasure to induct you to the New Jersey Hall of Fame. The Louis Armstrong, Willie Dixon, Little Richard and Antonio Meucci of TV, and my mentor, my hero and my soul brother for life, Mr. David Chase.
David Chase's Acceptance Speech
Thank you. Like the song says, “It’s only gabagool, but I like it.” This is really a huge honor for me. It’s very unexpected. It’s probably more unexpected for my parents, wherever they are. They never mentioned me in the same breath as Thomas Edison. And I need to thank the state of New Jersey for this. And for, actually, just about everything. And I want to thank the Hall of Fame from way, way deep in my heart. Thank you so much. This is a treat beyond measure. …
(Thanks family members, and actors and others involved in making “The Sopranos.”)
My parents emigrated to New Jersey from Westchester. I was 4, so I’m not, strictly speaking, a native of New Jersey. But I did something better than that. I married a Jersey girl. In fact, her name is Denise Annette Kelly, she’s from the far end of Bloomfield Avenue: Caldwell, the last stop on the 29 bus. We met at West Essex High School, directly pre-Beatles, and then a few years later, we went down into the foxhole together. And actually, I have to say, Denise made my life. Whatever I am, she did it. And it’s the absolute, absolute truth. Courageous, generous, smart, funny, she gave me so much advice that I needed really badly. Unfortunately, for health reasons, Denise can’t be here with us, which makes me sad. But our daughter, Michele Kelly Chase, is here. She’s always been nothing but a warlike supporter. But more than that, she probably doesn’t think this, but I’ve learned a lot from her. A lot.
Anyway, after 1950 or so, after my family moved to Clifton from Mount Vernon, across the river, my mother and my father and I used to drive over the GW Bridge every two weeks to visit my grandmother, Teresa Melfi. And on the way back, I used to beg my father to take the long way home — this is going way back — which meant down the West Side Highway into Manhattan, where, at that time, the prows of enormous ships used to … loom over the highway, into the Lincoln Tunnel and, finally, into the Meadowlands, i.e., New Jersey. The greatest gateway possible. It quickly became, I think, my most creative wellspring of my life. As a local poet said, ” ‘neath the refinery’s glow, where the deep black rivers flow.” And he had that right. It was a dreamscape, especially at the age of 5 or 6. Blinking lights from the top of radio towers. The deep black rivers, which always got my attention. Planes landing, and sailors’ bars and stuff. I don’t know why, but it got me.
When I did research for “The Sopranos,” I found out that the Meadowlands is the largest urban wilderness in the world — I can’t think of another urban wilderness, but that’s OK. I speak about the Meadowlands because it really did open up my imagination, first to the rest of the state, then the rest of the country, and the rest of the world. Thank you, New Jersey, for everything, really. Including Taylor ham.
