Two of my friends are on
anti-clutter kicks so last night I was inspired to give a kitchen drawer a
thorough cleaning. It was exhilarating. A few moments ago I went to get
something and ended up cleaning up about twenty items out of the next drawer before
I could tear myself away. Getting rid of clutter just feels good.
So does music, which is why you’re
actually here. Let’s talk about that, shall we?
Disc 769 is….Born in the U.S.A.
Artist: Bruce
Springsteen
Year of Release: 1984
What’s up with the Cover? This is what the start of the
movie “Patton” would’ve looked like if Patton had been the town mechanic
instead of a five star general.
How I Came To Know It: Everyone my age knows this album.
In 1984 this record was inescapable.
How It Stacks Up: Only 9 albums ago I hinted that
there was a three way tie for second place with “Tunnel of Love” and two other
records. This is the first of those two. In fact, I’m going to bump “Tunnel of
Love” down to fourth and put this one third instead.
Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5
Think for a second about the first note on the title
track of “Born in the U.S.A.” Do you hear the snap of the snare drum’s first
beat? Maybe for you it starts with the clarion call of the organ up high in the
mix. You probably glossed right over that low gloomy piano chord, which
is how it actually starts. It’s little moments like that, flitting subtly past your
ears, which are key to why this album is as good as it is.
That gloomy piano is in the background through the
whole song, ponderously alternating between two chords like the rest of the
song, only sadder and in the background. It is like an old dog that can’t quite
keep up with his master on the morning walk anymore, but is resigned to plod
along behind faithfully anyway. I won’t belabor the oft-made point that this
song’s triumphant sound is undercut by lyrics that are all about the American
dream gone wrong. I just wanted to note that the song undercuts itself as well,
and is another example of Springsteeen’s subtle genius.
An apparent tonic from the oppressive gloom of Sprinsteen’s
previous album “Nebraska,” “Born in the U.S.A.” is still an album that wants to
explore the tales of the downtrodden. It just does so at a faster tempo and
with more saxophone.
Normally all the horns and bells and whistles on an
album like this would just annoy me, but “Born in the U.S.A.” has a magical
quality that makes it all work. The good old boys partying for the 4th
of July on “Darlington County” are
just having a good time, and a little horn section makes it all the more festive.
This could be the same guys on the next track, gleefully
laying blacktop on “Working on the
Highway.” With all that hand clapping and jumpy organ, it sounds like
working on the highway is the best gig in town, until you realize the guy is
actually on a prison road crew. And then you realize that if you hadn’t been
listening really carefully, you’d
probably thought it was just this guy’s job. But the song’s structure made the
mistake an easy one to make.
“Glory Days”
tells the stories of people living in the past. A kid who didn’t quite make the
big leagues, still tells high school stories at the local pub. A former beauty
queen now divorced with two kids is now resigned to her life. Even the narrator
of the song, who is keenly aware of the denial all around him, chooses the same
path:
“Think I’m going down to the well
tonight
And I’m gonna drink till I get my
fill
And I hope when I get old I don’t
sit around
Thinking about it, but I probably
will
Yeah, just sitting back trying to
recapture
A little of the glory of,
But time slips away and leaves
you with nothing mister
But boring stories of glory days.”
Seeing the road to hell leading straight to your local
and walking it anyway.
There are moments of redemption and small victories
throughout “Born in the U.S.A.” as well, but they are always tinged with doubt.
“I’m on Fire” is a love song, but
tinged with the slow burn of desire for a woman who’s not in your arms. “No Surrender” is an anthem of protest, where
the only solace left in an unjust world is that your woman is now there for you
when you turn out the lights.
“If there is a true moment of redemption, it comes
on “Dancing in the Dark,” where
Springsteen acknowledges that we are in the dark, but we’re dancing, and that
optimism is the spark you need to carry you through the hard times.
The record ends with “My Hometown” – a song about the slow and recurring pace of small
town life, and how people hang on to their old lives, generation to generation,
even though the textile plant is closing and the jobs are gone.
“Dancing in
the Dark” and “My Hometown” are
my two favourite songs on the album, despite both having a fuzzy production
that wrecked a lot of lesser records at this time. Springsteen avoids the
excess futzing that nibbles around the edges of his next record, “Tunnel of
Love.” Instead, the production here puts a layer of artifice on top of deeply
emotional content. The distance created gives you a perspective that you need in
order to see the character’s Springsteen’s raspy vocals bring to life. It is
the energy you need to believe that these characters can break free of their
chains (real or metaphorical) and get the hell out of town. They never do, but
it is the tension from them being on the verge that makes you keep listening
for a miracle.
This whole album is about the broken dreams of
America, but it is also about the chutzpah and bottomless well of enthusiasm
that just can’t be knocked out of the working man. Does that refusal to give in
make the stories on this album more or less tragic? I think Springsteen wants
you to decide that for yourself. As far as I’m concerned you can’t start a fire
without a spark, and this album is that spark.
Best
tracks: Born in
the U.S.A., County, Working on the Highway, Downbound Train, I’m On Fire, No
Surrender, Glory Days, Dancing in the Dark, My Hometown – yes, that’s 8 of the
12 songs on the album. I told you it was close to 5 stars.
No comments:
Post a Comment