(2 of 2)
For all the current of sadness that runs through his music, Seger remains a modest, ebullient figure who still drives him self home from local concerts in a red BMW. A working-class kid from Ann Arbor, Seger lives with his steady girl in a modest ranch house 50 miles from Detroit. Fans have discovered the address, and "just the other night," Seger reports, "a girl tried to get into the kitchen."
This month Seger is moving, for the fourth time in two years, to a remote spot north of Detroit, vowing, "This time we will be isolated."
His recreations are modest enough: a lakefront cabin, a 36-ft. Chris-Craft and a Honda cycle, "a great bike, with a windshield, cigarette lighter and a cruise control." A somewhat more comfortable concert schedule — just over 100 dates, cut down from the 260 Bob and the Silver Bullet Band played in 1975 — allows time for a touch of reflection. "I'd like to be more like B.B. King, become more sophisticat ed," Seger muses. "Maybe I'll just make records after a while, write songs or produce. After all, I don't know how much longer I'm going to look like this. Probably not when I'm 40."
Just turned 33, Bob Seger already senses autumn in the air and has started to map the terrain. Funny how the night moves.