So, Tuesday, January 27th, will certainly be another day of significance in the tremendous career of singer/songwriter, or, as I like to say, poet, Bruce Springsteen. His 24th album, Working on a Dream, will debut in stores, and having heard it, I can safely say that Bruce has done it again. Now, when I say Bruce has done it again, I mean, he has done his own thing. To this point, to understand Bruce Springsteen, and his beliefs, motives, and reasoning, is about as easy to understand why John Lennon was shot - damn near impossible. But, I'll try to offer my insight here.
Throughout his career, Bruce Springsteen has done things that have changed music, history, and America. Like him or not, you cannot argue that his Born to Run stadium anthem has fired you up at least once, that Glory Days (love it or hate it) has been sung in a drunken splendor, or that Dancing in the Dark made you wish you could put on tight Wrangler jeans, play football in the mud with Brett Favre, and then dance like Adam Sandler on SNL. Face the facts, the Boss has dictated pop culture for awhile now. As his reign of supremacy winds down with Working on a Dream (WOAD from here on out), the conclusions one can draw from the intensity of his lyrics have only just begun.
Over the past ten years, Springsteen has been "there" for America. A raging Republican, I cannot express enough how much I loathe his concert-antics of Bush-bashing (which now, may have come to an end). His political campaigning is where Bruce takes much of his criticism, but flat out, he does not care. In 1999, Bruce returned after a long absence and an acoustic album (Ghost of Tom Joad) to take NYC and the world by storm - with a reunion tour. On this tour, the band debuted two songs, which were never studio recorded nor studio released. One, "Land of Hope & Dreams," spoke about how historic America was. How important is continued to be, and how we cannot lose our faith in America. The next, was American Skin (41 Shots), which was a memoir to Amadou Diallo, inspired by the police shooting death which took place in NYC. When the police racially profiled (in Bruce's mind) the young Diallo, he reached for what police thought was a gun. They then shot him 41 times, as if one wasn't enough. Diallo was really holding his wallet, with identification. To further prove that Bruce operates on his own terms, he played this in NYC on the reunion tour, then again on the Rising tour, and scattered inbetween.
In 2001, America, Bruce's 1st love, saw the worst point in history, take place on our doorstep. With the attacks of 9/11, the country turned to Bruce for help. Bruce then wrote arguably his most significant album since The River, in The Rising. An entire album about tragedy, longevity, love, life, and recovery, The Rising was Bruce's stamp - he was back. Bruce went on to have a monstrous tour, in which, when he found out he did not win a Grammy award in 2002, opened an Duluth, GA show by saying "Fuck you if you don't appreciate it," clearly aimed at the Grammy selection committee, and played powerfully. "Come on Max," Bruce yelped, as No Surrender began to play, to open the show.
That's just the Boss, he does what he feels is right, and furthermore, American. In 2004, he launched a Vote-For-Change Tour, in which he teamed up with REM, Jackson Browne, John Fogerty, amongst others, to campaign for John Kerry in the election of 04. Did it fail? Perhaps. Did John Kerry get more votes because of Springsteen? Hell yes. Does that scare me? Hell yes. This is how important Springsteen is to America.
All of my life, I have said Springsteen was a poet first, then a musician, then a singer. His songs have meaning. "Johnny" is not a name Bruce just likes - it signifies a man in, coming home from, or lost in war (which Bruce sees as tumultuous and unnecessary). "Mary" is another such name of significance. His songs relate to him, America, change, and things that Bruce cannot get off of his chest otherwise. In 2007, Bruce launched Magic, a powerful CD, that was catchy, and fun, alla Born in the U.S.A. Every track was great, and it left people wanting more.
If you see my note about Danny Federici, you will find some significance on his death amidst the Magic Tour. I was fortunate to see Danny in action one last time before his death. When Danny died, Bruce, 59 yrs young, realized something - the time of Bruce and the Band changing the world, was slowly coming to an end. Unlike in his songs, and albums, life cannot go forever. Second chances are few-and far between, and it's so rare to move on, when someone you truly love has been lost. Feeling a cited "energy, and desire to keep going," Bruce and the Band announced one final hoorah together - another ESB album (within a year) - UNHEARD OF.
Now, having heard this album, I can say that it is without a doubt his best album of the decade, following trend of significance, lyrical importance, and timing. For some reason, I feel like Bruce is ready to let American stand on their own two feet, similar to a parent dropping their kid off at college. Bruce has left the country in the hands of Obama, whom he also campaigned for, further citing his regard and love for what's best for his, and our country.
Up and down the album, it starts with Bruce's first 8 minute studio track (Outlaw Pete) since Drive All Night (The River) / Thundercrack (Tracks). Outlaw Pete discusses a vagabond sort of child, who becomes a man, and becomes rescued, similar to what Bruce did by helping Danny Federici out of drug abuse. The album, which is sort of a ballad to Danny, is so important to end the Band's career. It features significance, party songs (My Lucky Day) and closure.
The Last Carnival, track 12 of 12, is the most significant track Bruce has written in years. It not only closes the Band's career, but closes their final CD together, and is about losing Danny, each other, and a fitting tribute and send off. Rolling Stone put it best: "If you don't count the soundtrack tune "The Wrestler," tacked on as a bonus cut, the album ends with "The Last Carnival," a plain-spoken, heart-rending elegy for E Street Band organ player Danny Federici, who died of cancer last year. The tune doubles as a sequel to Springsteen's beloved 1973 song "Wild Billy's Circus Story," in which the romance of the circus stood for life on the road — here, the circus is moving on without Billy. "Sundown, sundown/They're taking all the tents down," Springsteen sings in a choked hush, at the bottom of his range. "Where have you gone, my handsome Billy?" The song ends with a choir of what sounds like Springsteen's and Patti Scialfa's layered voices, vaulting up to infinity: For a fallen comrade, it's one last opera out on the turnpike."
This song ends a career of work, importance, significance, love, hate, anger, and controversy for Bruce & the Band. I encourage you to pick up the album, and listen to it, not hoping it has a "Thunder Road," "Dancing in the Dark," or "Radio Nowhere" type of catchy-ness, but please listen as an attentive music lover, who strives to prove a point, for anyone who can listen and understand.
God Bless, and enjoy. The road is a short one, so we must appreciate every day. "It's a town full of losers, and I'm pullin' out of here to win." Bruce certainly won over his career - love, fans, but most of all, he won, and earned, respect. Not only from us, America, and other musicians, but from himself. Bruce finally proved to himself that he found out he could change something through music. "Come on rise up," and change the world. If a musician can do it, so can we.
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