I came to the end of a long
literary journey this weekend, when I finished reading “The Two Noble Kinsmen,”
completing my long-held goal to read every one of Shakespeare’s 38 plays. I had
already read about half of them over the years, but I re-read all of those as
well for the full immersive experience.
I did it by keeping the complete
Shakespeare in my bathroom (being divided into scenes made it a perfect fit) so
it took a lot longer to read than it might have. Like Sheila recently said on her blog,
you should always have a bathroom book.
Disc 695 is…. Devils & Dust
Artist: Bruce
Springsteen
Year of Release: 2005
What’s up with the Cover? Bruce looking
contemplative, with a weathered and worn frame that implies, “I’ve seen a lot
of shit, man.”
How I Came To Know It: I saw a video for the title
track and absolutely loved it, so I raced out and bought the album. Here’s the video, which is basically like the cover, only the pictures move.
How It Stacks Up: We have ten Bruce Springsteen albums. I like all of
them, but since this is the section where I stack ‘em up, I must admit that “Devils
& Dust” is my least favourite – so 10.
Rating: 3 stars
This album began with one of my favourite
Springsteen songs, and it ended with a quiet, little regarded gem, but in
between it gave me pause for doubt more than once.
“Devils & Dust” is Springsteen stripping away
his rock edge and going for a contemporary folk sound. At times he sounds like
he’s trying to channel the solo work of Mark Knopfler, and at other times Bob
Dylan. Mostly he works hard to create a new version of himself I hadn’t heard
before.
The album’s opening (and title) track was enough to
get me to buy the album by itself, which is a good thing since with “Devils & Dust” peaking at #72 and no
other song charting at all, I wasn’t going to hear anything else without
seeking it out myself.
I knew that “Devils
& Dust,” was going to stand the test of time, infuriatingly pointless
ampersand or not. It is an anthem for soldiers, but it isn’t a celebratory
anthem. This is a song that explores the dehumanizing nature of war. It is an
oft-explored folk theme, but Springsteen breathes new life into it, in a haunting
and hopeless kind of way. The chorus sums up how high ideals can easily get
lost in the wind:
“Now every woman and every man
They want to take a righteous
stand
Find the love that God wills
And the faith that He commands
I’ve got my finger on the trigger
And tonight faith just ain’t
enough
When I look inside my heart
There’s just devils and dust.”
This song also serves as a perfect coda for
Springsteen’s previous album, 2002’s “The Rising” which explores the loss and
anguish America experienced in the wake of 9/11.
Sadly, nothing that follows on the album lives up to
the promise of the title track. Springsteen decides to play the majority of the
instruments throughout, including guitar, keyboard and even drums at times.
While competent on the guitar, he’s no Mark Knopfler and I think by deciding to
do so much, he stretches himself a bit too thin in places.
Springsteen is always a great storyteller, and “Devils
& Dust” has some peculiar ones, notably a visit to a prostitute in “Reno” that crosses subtle and pretty
melodies with occasionally raunchy lyrics to create a wonderful tension, and no
small amount of tenderness where it is least expected.
A couple of times Springsteen also tries out a new
singing style where he climbs almost into falsetto. It is so
un-Springsteen-like you wouldn’t know it was him if you hadn’t put the album on
yourself. Of the two songs he tries this on, “Maria’s Bed,” and “All I’m
Thinking About,” “Maria’s Bed” is
by far the better track. “All I’m
Thinking About” has him reach a little too far, with his voice going thin
and strained.
Despite this, there is no doubting Bruce’s overall range,
which is consistently underestimated because he uses his voice to service the
song and not vice versa. On this record, it feels like the opposite on “All I’m Thinking About,” but “Maria’s Bed” is such an upbeat and
joyful track that I forgive him.
The album ends on a sombre note, with “Matamoros Banks” a song about a Mexican
trying to cross the desert into the United States and finding only his death in
a river crossing. Again, the poet in Bruce rises up and shines:
“For two day the river keeps you
down
Then you rise to the light
without a sound
Past the playgrounds and empty
switching yards
The turtles eat the skin from
your eyes, so they lay open to the stars.
“Your clothes give way to the
current and river stone
‘Til every trace of who you ever
were is gone.
And the things of the earth they make
their claim
That the things of heaven may do
the same.”
When I first heard this song, I thought it was about
some woman drowned by her psychotic boyfriend down by the river. I guess I’ve
been listening to too much Nick Cave and Neil Young over the years. I only know
what it was actually about, because Bruce put it in the liner notes. Regardless
of subject, he once again walks that narrow line between beauty and tragedy
where art shines brightest.
I admire “Devils & Dust” for consistently trying
to walk that lofty line throughout. At times Bruce comes up short, and you can’t
help but notice the resulting misstep, but over thirty years removed from his
first album, he’s still fearlessly trying to find new ways to climb up there.
1 comment:
This is one of my favorite Bruce albums. I'd give it at least 4 stars. Matamoros Banks, a song told Memento (Christopher Nolan)
style, is one of his best.
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