He may shove his broody characters out the door and send them cruising down the turnpike, but he gives them music they can pound on the dashboard to.
He's set songs as well drawn as those on his bleak acoustic album, Nebraska, to music that incorporates new electronic textures while keeping as its heart all of the American rock & roll from the early Sixties. Like the guys in the songs, the music was born in the U.S.A.: Springsteen ignored the British Invasion and embraced instead the legacy of Phil Spector's releases, the sort of soul that was coming from Atlantic Records and especially the garage bands that had anomalous radio hits. He's always chased the utopian feeling of that music, and here he catches it with a sophisticated production and a subtle change in surroundings -- the E Street Band cools it with the saxophone solos and piano arpeggios -- from song to song.
The people who hang out in the new songs dread getting stuck in the small towns they grew up in almost as much as they worry that the big world outside holds no possibilities -- a familiar theme in Springsteen's work. But they wind up back at home, where you can practically see the roaches scurrying around the empty Twinkie packages in the linoleum kitchen. In the first line of the first song, Springsteen croaks, "Born down in a dead man's town, the first kick I took was when I hit the ground." His characters are born with their broken hearts, and the only thing that keeps them going is imagining that, as another line in another song goes, "There's something happening somewhere."
Though the characters are dying of longing for some sort of payoff from the American dream, Springsteen's exuberant voice and the swell of the music clues you that they haven't given up. In "No Surrender," a song that has the uplifting sweep of his early anthem "Thunder Road," he sings, "We made a promise we swore we'd always remember" no retreat, no surrender." His music usually carries a motto like that. He writes a heartbreaking message called "Bobby Jean," apparently to his longtime guitarist Miami Steve Van Zandt, who's just left his band -- "Maybe you'll be out there on that road somewhere. . .in some motel room there'll be a radio playing and you'll hear me sing this son/Well, if you do, you'll know I'm thinking of you and all the miles in between" -- but he gives the song a wall of sound with a soaring saxophone solo. That's classic Springsteen: the lyrics may put a lump in your throat, but the music says, Walk tall or don't walk at all.
A great dancer himself, Springsteen puts an infectious beat under his songs. In the wonderfu
Born To Run was very much a do-or-die effort for Springsteen, and perhaps that's why it has such a bitter quality to it. This time out, the Boss succeeded in capturing a sound big enough to match the epic, cinematic quality of his lyrics. Springsteen has such a rich and varied career; songs such as "Born to Run" and "Thunder Road" are some of his finest moments.
