Album Review: The Ghost of Tom Joad

Today marks the 20th anniversary of The Ghost of Tom Joad, Bruce's 11th studio album, and second acoustic album, following 1982's Nebraska.  Coming after the dual release of Human Touch and Lucky Town, this album came out at arguably the nadir of Springsteen's popularity.  While Bruce would later regain his swagger seven years later on The Rising (discussed extensively on this blog), today is a time to look back on 90s Bruce.

The Ghost of Tom Joad is an album that I have listened to very little, and have discussed even less.  In fact, in the process of writing this review, I realized that I was missing a couple tracks.  And after a few listens, I find myself, unfortunately, with very little to say on the album.

The album starts off very strong, with album stand-outs such as the title track, "Straight Time", and "Youngstown".  (It is notable to point out that "The Ghost of Tom Joad" and "Youngstown" would eventually be worked into full-on rock songs, versions that this author prefers).  There is a lot of strong lyrics on this album, too.  For example, the "where there's a...." part in "The Ghost of Tom Joad", while lifted from the book, is particularly strong - so strong, in fact, you can find similar sentiments in future songs such as "The Wrestler" and "We Are Alive".  Bruce's musical work here excels when there is a band accompaniment, as they add diversity and flourish to a rather bleak album.

However, the back half of the album drags, as many songs begin to blend together.  The formula is the same on many songs: Bruce's voice is high in the mix, an acoustic guitar plinks in the background (sounding like a guitar-practice progression), and the songs go on without a strong beginning or ending.  A string of songs like "Balboa Park", "Dry Lightning", and "The New  Timer" just waft over me, and it is difficult for me to find anything that stands out musically.

Ultimately, I don't find this album offering much new to me; the bleak, stark storytelling was explored much better on Nebraska, and Nebraska had a bit more diversity of sound on it, from the Suicide-esque yipping on "State Trooper" to the random rockabilly track "Drive All Night".  Even Devils & Dust, which owes some of it's sound to this album, has a few more memorable tracks than this one.  While there's no offensively bad song on the album (although "My Best Was Never Good Enough" is a bit cheesy), I'd rank it last among the Bruce acoustic trilogy.  

However, having not really discussed this album much, I contacted the other writers on Legends of Springsteen.  Both OB and Steve agreed - The Ghost of Tom Joad was their favorite of Springsteen's acoustic albums!  This came as a shock to me, so let's put it to you, the reader: how would you rank Springsteen's acoustic albums?

Springsteen's Answering Machine

Throughout this decade, as Generation Y begins to get married, have kids, get fat, and lose their hair, we will all be inundated with 90s nostalgia.  While some of the focus will be on the pop culture of the time, such as movies, television, and fashion, I think people will reminisce more about the technology of the era.  In the 1990s, you had to choose between being on the phone, watching television, or being on the internet; now, we do all three at once.  Though it sounds cliche, it truly was a simpler time, where technology enhanced your life, but did not consume it.

With this in mind, allow me to wax nostalgic about one forgotten technological relic of the 80s and 90s: the answering machine.  Granted, voicemail greetings are not extinct, but more often then not I receive the default "You have reached 555..." rather than any personal greeting.  Calling it an afterthought nowadays is too nice; I have no idea what my current greeting says, and probably can't even figure out how to change it.  However, answering machine instructions were drilled into my head as a small child, and I'll never forget them.  I even remember answering machine "safety tips", such as using a man's voice and mentioning multiple names (but not your last name).  These tips were allegedly to detour burglars or stalkers, but looking back, it seems insanely paranoid.  But, my mom still shreds her bank statements into fine confetti to prevent her identity from being stolen by "dumpster divers", so perhaps these "tips" were just unique to my family.

But, back in the day, conversations about your answering machine were just as frequent as conversations about your Facebook profile.  Nearly every sitcom had an answering machine moment in their show, most notably Seinfeld, which had an entire episode based on switching the tape on an answering machine and had a classic gag involving George's answering machine.  With answering machines in our collective conscious, it stands to reason that our beloved entertainer would make a contribution to the answering machine world.  And that he did.  The results will amaze you:



Before sharing my thoughts, I'd just like to reprint the lyrics for those who may have not caught them all:

Hey there ain't nobody home
Hey there ain't nobody home
Hey there ain't nobody home
To come to the telephone

I don't know when I'm coming back
I don't know when I'm coming back
I don't know when I'm coming back
If you got something to say 
You better spit it out, Jack

Now, objectively, this is hilarious.  There's the element of the goofiness and awkwardness already associated with 90s Bruce.  Here is a campy, lighter side of this rocker who made his mark singing about the souls of the departed, preserved forever in Internet history.  But for me, the funniest part of this is not in the message itself, but in imagining the process that led to Bruce recording this message.  I imagine him slaving away at his desk, trying to come up with the right melody and lyrics, tossing paper after paper into a nearby wastebasket, trimming down the song from eight minutes to 30 seconds, arguing with Patti that this will be a fantastic way to greet his callers (while she reasonably suggests a more formal message), etc.  It is a wonderful clip that provides laughs, groans, and a rare "behind the curtain" look at our favorite entertainer.  And, for me, it is the perfect summation of the answering machine era: it was an amusing part of our lives that, while we may feel nostalgic for, nobody wants to go back to using.

(On a side note, it is good to hear Clarence's voice in the clip, if it was only so brief.  However, I'm always thrown off by the sound of his voice - I always expect it to be deeper, such as in "Kid you better get the picture" or "You better be good for goodness sake".  Is it just me?)

Video Spotlight - Darkness on the Edge of Town

Astute readers may remember this video from OB's acoustic Springsteen article from last year, but I felt like this video deserves another go-around in the video spotlight.  As OB noted before, it is an extremely passionate rendition in a performance where Bruce comes off as exhausted (the voice cracks are an excellent touch).  But, the reason I wanted to go back to this video was, because it introduces us to the most unusual character of Springsteen lore: 90s Bruce.

We all already know that it wasn't his best time, but I do prefer the solo acoustic 90s Bruce than the fake E Street Band 90s Bruce.  However, let's take a moment to honor the horrific fashion choices of 90s Bruce.  In other videos from this time period, you'll see Bruce with a questionable goatee, overly-elaborate leather jackets, Brett-Favre-approved Wrangler jeans, and....earrings.  This video is too early into 90s Bruce to see any of that, we do get a glimpse of a burgeoning mullet and an oversized shirt that must have been purchased at The Gap.  Never really known for his fashion, I think we are all very glad he has gone back to basics with the simple black-on-black-on-black look for the last decade.