Today, we take a swing in the complete opposite direction of yesterday, and talk about a Bruce song that makes me sad. Now, as mentioned yesterday, most Bruce music makes me happy. I can even rock out to the more depressing Bruce songs (and so can Bruce, apparently, as shown by that amazing guitar solo that has worked its way into "Youngstown" over the years). And, it doesn't help that I'm fairly emotionally dead. With that being said, here's a Springsteen song that make the room seem a bit dustier:
While "Bobby Jean" has a bit of an uplifting swing, the emotional core of the song really connects with me. It drips with nostalgia, striving to recover things we've lost and go back to the way things were. I'm even nostalgic when hearing a song about nostalgia, remembering embarrassing moments from my life.
So, what Bruce song makes you sad? Bruce has a plethora of downers, so this should be much easier for others, unlike this old soulless robot.
"I lost my money and I lost my wife,
Them things don't seem to matter much to me now."
- "Darkness on the Edge of Town", Darkness on the Edge of Town
"Darkness on the Edge of Town" is perhaps one of Bruce's most underrated songs. Of course, I don't actually mean underrated by the fans, who rated it as Bruce's 11th best song, but underrated by me. In beginning to write this lyrics spotlight, there were several lines I could've written expanded thoughts on, and perhaps I will at a later date. But, for now, I'd just like to spotlight this somber line.
Now, granted, the narrator of this song has lived a much tougher life than me. I still have my money, and I have not lost a serious girlfriend, much less a wife. But, whenever I hear this long, it strikes me in a completely different way. I see it as a re-prioritizing of one's life. Things that you valued at one point no longer seem important.
I am an avid lover of nostalgia. I love looking back and exploring my past. I still try to remain connected to my youth, such as reading comic books and watching basketball games. Heck, I even get nostalgic when I read old posts from this blog! However, there have been times when I've dug up something that I used to love, and find myself muttering, "Them things don't seem to matter much to me now." Here's a recent example:
In my neighborhood, there is a delightful store called Pop Fuzz. This store specializes in carrying second-hand pop culture items from the 80s and 90s. I could go on and on about all the random crap that I love in this store, but every time I visit there, my eyes are immediately drawn to these:
Those are movie trading cards from the late 80s and early 90s. For me, the Batman trading cards always held a special place in my heart. You see, whenever I visited my grandmother's house, my cousin, my brother, and I would take a trip down the block to a local delicatessen. Here, we would get assorted snacks, Slush Puppies, and, of course, Batman trading cards. I must have had hundreds of those things.
So, flash forward to the future, and I naturally caved, ponying up the $0.75 and buying myself a pack. I rushed home to open these suckers...and boy oh boy was I disappointed. Granted, there was a temporary amount of joy - I loved the feeling of unwrapping a brand new pack of trading cards - but this lasted about as long as the flavor of Fruit Stripes gum. I flipped through the cards, which were just poorly framed movie stills printed on floppy cardboard, and was completely baffled about how I would have spend hours looking and sorting through them as a child. "Them things don't seem to matter much to me now." It goes to show that all trips down memory lane are not made equal: while some memories you should never let go, others are perhaps best kept in their own place and time.
"Well, I got a good Catholic education here in Freehold
Led to an awful lot of masturbation here in Freehold
Father, it was just something I did for a smile
Hell, I still get a good one off once in a while
and dedicate it to Freehold."
-- "In Freehold"
Who doesn't love a good masturbation joke? As an amateur comedian, I use masturbation as the crux of so many jokes that I've begun to abbreviate it as "M" in my notebook. It may be low-brow, but it gets a chuckle, or, in Bruce's case here, an enthusiastic cheer.
"In Freehold" is a song Springsteen wrote for a special concert he performed in his old high school gym. While the songs he penned in his teens and early 20s were all about breaking out of this "town full of losers", here he reflects on his youth with nostalgia, humor, and a twinge of sadness. Tales of his first kiss, his first band, his father, and his sister all make it into this epic. But ultimately, Bruce ends it with the one element that everyone can relate to when thinking about their high school years.
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?)
“She asked if I remembered the letters I wrote
When our love was young and we were bold.
She said last night she read those letters
And they made her feel a hundred years old.”
- Stolen Car, Tracks
Here at LegendsOfSpringsteen.com, we’ve made it known that we prefer the Tracks version of “Stolen Car” to the originally released version on The River. While it could be argued that the less rhythmic musical composition on The River more accurately reflects the hopelessness of the song, I feel that the lyrics come through more poignantly in Tracks. The more persistent music powers the lyrics forward and the alternate ending reinforces the pain of nostalgia illustrated in the lyrics above (which are found in both versions with a few minor differences). These lyrics capture the passing of time and the change in personality that can accompany it. While we often think of a memento as a source of cherishing the past, here it highlights the disconnect between the past and present. More painful than the acknowledgement that things aren’t as good as they used to be is the sense that it’s too late for them ever to be that good again.
This week's lyrics of the week is written by James Layman, who originally made his mark on the blog with this excellent piece. Take it away, James!
"Well, now young faces grow sad and old
And hearts of fire grow cold
We swore blood brothers against the wind
Now I'm ready to grow young again"
-No Surrender, Born in the U.S.A.
There is a particular ebb and flow to Bruce's work, especially present on Born in the U.S.A. Youthful arrogance collides with cold gray reality, giving way to a type of stoic cynicism. In turn, the cynicism collapses into desperation, and the hope to find a way back to a time when the affairs of American life were stronger and simpler. Back to when we were mindless kids with fast cars and too much time to kill.
Whether we've grown up in New Jersey or Russia, we've all felt that way. At heart, it's an inevitability. We come of age shielded by naivety. We are foolish and arrogant, but physically stronger and sharper than we've ever been. So we charge forward with a sense of reckless abandon, blissfully oblivious to the fact that the world can hurt us. And then it does. Illusions of invincibility make for fragile structures. There's a time when every river runs dry. When the youthful electricity of a thousand first kisses fades to dust, and the hopes we took for granted clash with a more stark reality, lurking just beyond the horizon. And everything that was so simple at seventeen is a thousand fragments of shattered glass. We can look back at high school, and laugh at those delusions, breathing easy in the satisfaction that we "know better" now. But there's part of us that will always want to go back to feeling that way. To when we were stupid. To when we could bound ceaselessly into the limitless beyond, with the false knowledge that nothing would stand in our way. "No Surrender" is a song about reaching back down into that long abandoned part of oneself, and finding the fuel for one more mile.
So do it. The road is open again, and the wind is at your back.
In this series of posts, we will give you some background on how your three lovely bloggers became Springsteen fans. Third up, OB:
If you were to ask me when I discovered Bruce Springsteen, the answer would probably be, “When I was about 6 or 7 years old.” If you were to ask mewhen I became a fan of Bruce, I would say, “Probably around 14 or 15 years old.” But if you asked me when I became an obsessed Springsteen fanatic, then I can answer, without hesitation, “Sunday July 27, 2003.”
My mother was a Springsteen fan and we had a few of his albums around the house. Born In The USA was the first cassette tape that I really remember listening to. No fast forwarding, both sides, just really loving these pop-rock anthems. The titular song was the first song I knew all the words to and could sing along with, albeit horribly. Along with Greetings From Asbury Park, NJ, I was introduced to Bruce at an early age, and can honestly say I did like him.
As I got older though, I kind of just forgot about Bruce and got into harder and heavier music. Bruce was replaced by the likes of Guns N’ Roses, Metallica and Ozzy Osboune. But when he released The Rising in 2002, I have to say that I was really impressed. I remembered why I loved his music so much in the first place. In December of 2002, I got my driver’s license and would borrow my mom’s car a lot. Most of the CDs in there were show tunes, which I despise. But there was one CD that I could always listen to, Bruce Springsteen’s Greatest Hits. Even though now I think that is a pretty poor representation of his career, both "Born To Run" and "Badlands" still bring back nostalgic feelings about being 17 and driving around in my mom’s car.
But on July 27th, 2003 I can literally say I had a life-changing-experience when I saw my first ever Bruce Springsteen concert. I went with some friends from high school; we had just graduated the month prior and were still about a month away from leaving for college. It was a beautiful summer night in the parking lot of Giants Stadium in East Rutherford, NJ. My friends and I were able to sneak a case of beer from one of our houses, we were grilling some hot dogs, and I was pretty excited to see what I thought would be a pretty good rock n’ roll show.
When the lights went down in Giants Stadium and I heard the opening chords of "Downbound Train", I knew this was going to be so much more than just a pretty good rock n’ roll show. I remembered this song from my mom’s Born In The USA tape, but this was so different. Next he kicked into "Lonesome Day" and "The Rising", and I was just mesmerized by what I was seeing on stage. I had a small knowledge of Springsteen songs, but most of the songs that night I was hearing for the first time. Sometimes, I look back at the setlist from that night and get angry that I didn’t appreciate some of the songs I was hearing then, but I knew they were special even then.
Bruce had connected with me! When he sang "Candy’s Room" I was surehe was singing about the girl I had an unrequited crush on in high school. When he sang about “getting wasted in thesummer heat” during Backstreets, I was certain he was singing about me and my buddies in the parking lot just a few hours ago. When I got home that night I went hunting formy mom’s old tapes of Greetings and Born In The USA. I listened to them with new appreciation,and started downloading whatever else I could by Springsteen. The man was a genius and I was hooked. I still had a love for hard rock music, but nothing could top Springsteen.
Nine years later, I’ve seen Bruce a few more times, and now as a fully fledged fanatic, I know and sing along with every song. But I always remember my first Bruce show and the night I went from listening to Bruce Springsteen’s music to becoming a fan of Bruce Springsteen.
In this series of posts, we will give you some background on how your
three lovely bloggers became Springsteen fans. Second up, Steve:
My Bruce Springsteen indoctrination was a three-stage process dating back to 1995 when I received Bruce’s Greatest Hits album as a Christmas stocking stuffer (purchased by my Mother at the checkout aisle at Pathmark). I had an instant affection for Born in the USA but as an eleven-year-old brainwashed by grunge and heavy metal on the radio, I found Bruce’s music too soft to fully get me behind the entire album.
My interest remained limited until 2002 when The Rising was top of the charts and a live performance music video of The Rising gave me a sample of Bruce’s enthralling entertainer skills. But it was Lonesome Day’s music video, with its elegiac imagery and hopeful lyrics mixed with melancholy that compelled to receive my second Bruce album, once again in the form of a Christmas present.
The final stage of complete immersion came in 2004 during my sophomore year at college. I finally had access to a high-speed Internet connection, considerable CPU storage space and an unregulated network to do all the illegal music downloading I wanted. With such freedoms I was able to explore Bruce’s entire body of work, devouring everything from Tunnel of Love to an alternate version of the then unreleased Spanish Eyes to a live version of Downbound Train from 1985.
I’ve spent the past seven years obsessing over his music and feel like I still discover another amazing song every week. But through it all, The Rising is – and always will be – the album that defines my relationship.
In this series of posts, we will give you some background on how your three lovely bloggers became Springsteen fans. First up, Rory:
In what would seem stunning to most people, I didn't give a crap about music from the age of 12 through 16. While these are usually formative years for most people's music tastes, I was more obsessed with comic books and basketball. I had a brief affair with Hootie and the Blowfish in 1995, but that taught me the harsh lesson that "cool" comes and goes in the blink of an eye. In addition, it was too expensive to keep up with all the latest crazes. CDs and CD players were outrageously expensive, especially considering the vastly superior music formats and players we currently have at mostly lower prices.
Then, in 1999, Bruce reunited back with the E Street Band, and he was all over the news. My mom went to his concert in Madison Square Garden in the summer of 2000, and would constantly rave about him. I had been working part time at a comic book store, which had the radio station blaring Q104.3, New York's classic rock station. So, I did enjoy the genre, and was vaguely familiar with some of Springsteen's work. When my mom brought home Springsteen's Live in New York album in 2001, I decided "I will now become a Springsteen fan." Bruce didn't disappoint, as that album, in addition with The Rising, was the perfect way to win over a new fan like myself.
With this, I finally began to develop what one woud call "musical taste". After exploring Bruce's work, I became a fan of many other classic rock musicians (Beatles, Bowie, Queen, etc.). I sought out the bands that both influenced, and drew inspiration from, these musicians. Springsteen's work reintroduced me to music as a whole, and without him, I wouldn't be the loveable karoake crooner I become after several drinks.
Rory's Stats
Favorite Song: Atlantic City
Favorite Album: Darkness On The Edge of Town
Number of Bruce Concerts Attended: 7
Least Favorite Song: A Night With The Jersey Devil
