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Archives for March 2015

Certain Songs #148: Bruce Springsteen – “Land of Hope and Dreams”

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Album: Wrecking Ball.

Year: 2012.

The centerpiece of the best Springsteen album since Tunnel of Love, “Land of Hope and Dreams” was a bit of a ringer, having been written in the late 1990s, and debuting on 2000?s Live in NYC.  And as much as I loved that version, this one moves me even more.

By taking the conceit of universal salvation from “People Get Ready” and making it even bigger by mixing it with the themes of America as melting pot, as America as a place to find your redemption and America as a place that would fuel an artist as improbable as Bruce Springsteen, “Land of Hope and Dreams” fuses Curtis Mayfield and Woody Guthrie while sounding totally like Bruce Springsteen.

And make no mistake: “Land of Hope and Dreams” is peak 21st century Bruce Springsteen, mixing a drum machine with a his over-expanded band, and featuring Clarence Clemons sax solo from beyond the grave. Big and universal and detailed and personal all at the same time. With of course, yet another killer Roy Bittan piano hook as the centerpiece.

For me, Wrecking Ball was the best Bruce Springsteen album since Tunnel of Love  (though I was shocked it took him 40 years to write a song called “Jack of All Trades”) – and showed that – like Bob Dylan or Neil Young – Bruce is one of the rare legacy artists who could still pull out a great album this deep into his recording career.

And yes, he followed it up with the abysmal High Hopes – probably the worst album of his entire career –  but then he followed High Hopes almost with the pretty great American Beauty EP, so all I know for sure is that whatever Bruce Springsteen does next, I’ll be onboard.

“Land of Hope and Dreams” performed live in NYC in 2000

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs # 147: Bruce Springsteen – “Radio Nowhere”

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Album: Magic

Year: 2007

One of the most guitar-centric songs in Bruce’s entire catalog, “Radio Nowhere” was the type of high-energy song that you would figure to come from Springsteen disciples like The Hold Steady, as opposed to the man himself, who was now pushing 60. (And, actually, its circular main riff isn’t so far off from what The Hold Steady did on several Teeth Dreams tracks).

On one hand, while I guess it could be slotted into the genre of “old man yells at cloud” anti-radio songs like “The Last DJ,” “Around The Dial” and even “Do You Remember Rock ‘n’ Roll Radio?”  it somehow transcends the genre. Maybe because we know that Bruce knows that all he needs to do is tune into Little Steven’s Underground Garage for some great radio.

And unlike any of Bruce’s songs since the party tunes of The River, “Radio Nowhere” seemed designed to fit right in the the Underground Garage aesthetic, a fact that certainly pleased his consigliere, since – in a bit of no-doubt winking nepotism – Little Steven named Magic one of the coolest albums of the 2000s.  

Me personally, I wouldn’t go that far, as “Radio Nowhere” is far and away the best song on Magic, which is actually a pretty good record, but also a complete casualty of the Loudness War. It sounds terrible. Excited by the “Radio Nowhere” single, I was really looking forward to digging into it, but I found the album hard to listen to in a single setting.

Of course live, that wasn’t really a problem. And when Tim & Tyson and I went to see Bruce on the Magic tour, “Radio Nowhere” was the opener.  And if he or I’d had aged any in the nearly two decades since I last saw him in 1988, it was instantly wiped out by the first chorus, which led directly into another terrific show.

“Radio Nowhere” performed live in London in 2009

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #146: Bruce Springsteen – “Two Hearts (Live in NYC 2000)”

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Album: Live in New York City.

Year: 2000.

Two hearts? More like two chords, amiright? And it may have been the simplicity of this song – located on The River between “Sherry Darling” and “Independence Day” – that caused me to overlook it until it just totally exploded out of the reunion tour live album.

After over a decade wandering in the wilderness, releasing a few bland, boring records (though Lucky Town is pretty good), Bruce reconvened the E Street Band, including – most importantly for this song – newly minted TV star Steven Van Zant, always a more dynamic personality than Nils Lofgren.

The difference: Nils was a middle manager, but Little Steven was at least the CTO. And he was exactly what Bruce needed to rejuvenate, well, everything.

For example, on the DVD of Live in NYC 2000, you can tell just how fun they’re having singing this song together. Not only is it fun to watch, it’s thematically appropriate for the song:

Once I spent my time playing tough guy scenes
But I was living in a world of childish dreams
Someday these childish dreams must end
To become a man and grow up to dream again
Now I believe in the end
Two hearts girl get the job done
Two hearts are better than one
Two hearts are better than one

And in fact, this is yet another one that is put over for me by Van Zant’s backing vocals (so much Keef there!), and clearly Bruce recognizes that. So much so that they stops the song at the end so they can sing a Marvin Gaye song nearly acapella:

It takes two, baby
It takes two
Me and you, baby
It just takes two

before slamming back into the song again.

It’s not epic or nothing, but the love and respect in this performance makes this one of my very favorite Springsteen performances.

“Two Hearts” performed live in NYC in 2000 on Spotify

“Two Hearts” performed live (NOT IN NYC) in 2000

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #145: Bruce Springsteen – “Local Hero”

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Album: Lucky Town.

Year: 1992.

It’s such a truism that even the greatest artists have a “down” period that Steven Hyden just did a bracket article (”brackticle”) in Grantland about it. And naturally one of the artist periods he chose was Springsteen in the 1990s, where – without the E Street Band to ground him – he suddenly felt like a man out of time.

And, of course, it didn’t help that he started the period out with a grand gesture that utterly backfired: releasing two albums on the same day.  Not only had this been done the year before with Guns n’ Roses unleashing the Illusion twins on the same day, it was done better. Basically, Gun n’ Roses gave us nearly four albums worth of stellar hard rock (especially Use Your Illusion II, which … well, don’t you worry, you’re gonna hear about that record soon enough), while Bruce gave us two records of overproduced mush.

Well, that’s not entirely true: there were good songs on both records, and Lucky Town gets the nod over Human Touch because clearly Bruce didn’t overthink it as much. 

(Speaking of Human Touch, while the title track is an OK song that goes on way too long, I’m not sure any human being has looked as awesome doing their thing as Bruce looks playing the guitar in the video for the title track. Maybe Michael Jordan.)

For example, “Local Hero,” a tune à clef as witty as anything in his catalog, full of smartly-strummed guitars and wailing harmonicas, but slightly overburdened by an absolutely unnecessary gospel choir.  That said, I’ve always loved the chorus, and in the bridge: there was no doubt that Bruce had foreseen his ‘90s doom:

Well I learned my job I learned it well
Fit myself with religion and a story to tell
First they made me the king then they made me pope
Then they brought the rope

It’s a pretty great song, but in the spring of 1992, one of the most fertile musical periods of my lifetime, a few great songs spread across two albums just wasn’t gonna cut it.

“Local Hero” performed live in 2013.

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #144: Bruce Springsteen – “One Step Up”

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Album: Tunnel of Love.

Year: 1987.

After the big gesture of Born in the U.S.A. and even bigger gesture of the simultaneously life-affirming and somewhat disappointing 5 disc live album, it was clearly time for Bruce Springsteen to scale it down.  Which was why Tunnel of Love was such a masterstroke.

For me, it came out at the perfect time: practically the moment that what had been my most intense relationship to date was coming to a protracted and painful ending. So it was a weird comfort for someone like Springsteen to admit massive failure in love despite his massive success in his career. And that was just the first song.

The one I loved most – got kind of obsessed with, really – was the beautiful “One Step Up,” which felt like it was describing my life to a tee, as on one hand I was learning to play drums and had been tapped to manage the Video Zone, but on the other hand I was sharing a room at my dad’s place with my brother Joe because the tumultuous end of that relationship had left me with nowhere to live.

I think that “One Step Up” contains Bruce’s most beautiful singing, especially on the second verse:

Bird on a wire outside my motel room
But he ain’t singin’
Girl in white outside a church in June
But the church bells they ain’t ringing
I’m sittin’ here in this bar tonight
But all I’m thinkin’ is
I’m the same old story same old act
One step up and two steps back

All of the bombast is gone: his singing is direct, personal and the catch in his voice when he sings “bird on a wire” quite possibly the most lyrical moment in his entire career. All of the sadness he’s trying to express is right there.

And maybe that sadness spilled over into the Tunnel of Love tour, as the 1988 show I saw at the Shoreline with Tom from Video Zone was the most down show I’ve ever seen (out of four, a very small sample size) by Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band. Or maybe it was my mood. The summer of 1988 – like the Autumn of 1987 – is a top 5 Worst Time of My Life, so I’m not sure I can trust any of my reactions to the music I encountered then.

Official video for “One Step Up”

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #143: Bruce Springsteen – “Glory Days”

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Album: Born in the U.S.A.

Year: 1984

Oh no no no no no no no. Fuck this song. Just fuck this song. Fuck this song for its dumbass keyboard part. Fuck this song for its video that proves that as a pitcher, Bruce Springsteen is a great guitar player. Fuck this song for that chorus that sticks in your head forever. But most of all, fuck this song for being right.

The official song of Throwback Thursday, “Glory Days” boozy depiction of getting older was of course lost on me as a dumbass 21-year-old, but three decades down the line I’m just oh fuck you, Bruce for nailing it so much.

Back in 1993, Bruce played this song during the very last episode of one of my all-time favorite TV shows, Late Night With David Letterman.  Of course, even during my glory days, I almost never watched Dave live, relying on the magic of videotape to get my daily fix. My theory was that if I was awake at 12:35AM, it was because I had much better things to do than to watch TV.

Anyways, I came home after a long night of drinking at Livingstones the night of Dave’s very last show – which I knew would feature Bruce – only to find out that something had happened and it didn’t record. Either the cable went out or the VCR didn’t record or something. In any event, I was so pissed I threw the VCR remote against the wall, smashing it to pieces. Because I was a fucking idiot.

Anyways, I never did see that performance until I started looking for a video to out at the end of this post in addition to the famous video.

“Glory Days” live on Late Night With David Letterman, 1993

“Glory Days” official music video

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #142: Bruce Springsteen – “Born in the U.S.A”

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Album: Born in the U.S.A.

Year: 1984.

It was weird, loving this album and loving Bruce Springsteen in the mid-1980s. At that time, of course, I was fully ensconced with the alt/indie-rock aesthetic of KFSR, which automatically looked upon anything as massively popular as Springsteen (or Prince) (or Madonna) (or Michael Jackson) as suspicious. I got that: a lot of time what was popular was crap.

On the other hand, it was impossible for me to hate somebody simply because they were popular. That made no fucking sense: quality and popularity are not diametrically opposed. Not everything that is popular is crap. Never has been, never will be. It would be insane to ignore somebody simply because a lot of other folks whom maybe aren’t as snobby as I am like them.

I mean, the fact that The Kinks weren’t as popular as The Rolling Stones in 1969 didn’t mean that The Kinks were great and the Stones sucked, it meant that circumstances and market forces beyond either band’s control meant that Let it Bleed resonated while Arthur didn’t. In an ideal world, of course, both albums (to say nothing of The Velvet Underground) would have been massively popular.

In my ideal word, as a matter of fact, quality and popularity aren’t so much diametrically opposed as they are in lockstep.  Which is, of course, equally insane. But I truly want as many people to hear as much great music as I can foist at them. What I consider great music, of course, heh-heh. Your mileage will vary.

Of course, in the mid-1980s, there was no need whatsoever for me to play Bruce Springsteen on the radio as a DJ at KFSR. At least not anything from Born in the U.S.A., which had seven Top Ten singles, and certainly didn’t need my help. Clearly Bruce had figured out how to take his music to the next level commercially while not sacrificing his artistic soul.

Which was fine: as far as I was concerned, it meant that I could instead play Husker Du and R.E.M. and The Replacements etc. while still totally enjoying Springsteen’s success.  In fact, I even saw him in concert for the second time on that tour – at the Oakland Coliseum with Tim & Larry & Debbie (Tim & I also saw The Church put on a performance for the ages at Wolfgang’s in SF on that road trip) – where he always added extra heft to “Born in the U.S.A. by adding a killer guitar solo at the end.

Not that “Born in the U.S.A.” needed that extra heft. It sounded amazing. I have a simple rule: if a song sounds good enough, I really don’t give a fuck what the lyrics are. So even if the folks who have been willfully mishearing this song for 30 years happened to be correct – and they’re not, as even a cursory look at the verses would confirm – I’d still love it. I’d love it that big dumb beat. I’d love it for the even bigger and dumber keyboard hook. I’d love it for the utter passion that Bruce invests every single shout-sung “Born in the U.S.A.” 

“Born in the U.S.A”. performed live in Paris, 1985

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #141: Bruce Springstone – “(Meet The) Flintstones”

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Single: “Live at Bedrock.”

Year: 1982.

There’s a reason that only Weird Al has been able to make a career doing musical parody: it’s really really tough.

For example, it’s one thing for Jimmy Fallon to don a wig and sing in a high-pitched voice as “Neil Young,” – he’s letting the visuals do all of the work – and it’s quite another thing to do a full-blown takedown / homage like National Lampoon’s immortal “Southern California Brings Me Down.”

The best musical parody songs sound like they could actually be that artist, especially to the casual fan, while to the serious fan, they have to incorporate enough of that artist’s tropes or tics to play as a bit of an inside joke. It’s a tough line to walk, and I’m not sure that anybody has ever walked it better than the guys who put together 1982?s Bruce Springstone song “(Meet The) Flintstones.”

According to the internet, Bruce Springstone was the brainchild of a cartoonist named Tom Chalkey, who enlisted some other musicians – including Tommy Keene!! – to play on it.  Somewhat inspired – sez me – by Little Roger & The Goosebumps’ “Stairway to Gilligan’s Island,” the genius of “(Meet The) Flintstones” was all of the specific parody points.

The opening section is pure genius, not so far off from a story that Bruce would use to introduce something like “Racing in the Street” or “The River:”

I remember, I remember when I was just a kid
Growin’ up on them backstreets, in an old stone-age town
I used to come home at night from my job, I had a job flippin’ dino burgers
I see the quarry, it’d be just closing down by then

Little bird up on the pole, he’s screaming out how the working day’s over

And I’d see them dinosaurs, they’d be herding out through the gates
And the workers, they’d be giving them cars a running start with their fat little feet
Now, so, so one night I’m crossing the alley and I see this one worker coming home to his little stone hut

And I seen the lady’s lunch pail by the door, and he calls out to his wife, “hey Wilma! I’m home, honey”

Willllmaaa!!

Then, of course he segues into the familiar “Flintstones” theme exactly as you would imagine Springsteen doing it, with cries of “Willlmaaaa!,” and of course a sax solo over a big stop-time part to close it all out.

Naturally, Bruce Springsteen reportedly loved it, and even more naturally, the humourless lawyer types at Hanna-Barbera put the kibosh any showings of a video that they had made, as well as slapping a cease-and-desist on the single itself, because they felt somehow the loving parody of the cover art somehow desecrated a brand that had been culturally ubiquitous for two decades.

Fan-made video for “(Meet The) Flintstones”

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #140: Bruce Springsteen –  “You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch) (Live 1980)”

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Album: Live 1975-1985

Year: 1980.

The River was a schizophrenic album, combining some of Springsteen’s deepest story songs with some of his stoopidest party anthems. Guess which ones I loved the most?

As played by the E Street Band, the party anthems are all forward momentum, and everywhere you listen you can hear a cool guitar lead or a backing vocal or a new organ sound or an awesome piano run, capturing the visceral thrill of great rock music, So if some of them weren’t tied to the greatest of lyrics, it didn’t really matter. 

The reason I love “You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch)” – especially the live version – most of all is Steven Van Zant’s backing vocals.  Sure, they’re barely on tune, but that’s not even the point. His natural “aaaaahhhhhhh” adds a degree of extra grit and authenticity, so when he chimes in on “telephoooaaaonnnnnnnee” and “ahhhhhhlonnnnnnne”, in the last verse it makes the entire song for me.

I saw Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band for the very first time on this tour, in 1981, with Larry and Tim. Road trip! And, in fact I think it may have been one of those deals where we drove home after the show, because we were young and had unlimited time and energy. I have a vivid memory of listening to a cassette of Cosmos Factory on one of those trips – let’s just say it was this one – and just as “Ramble Tamble” hit its glorious midsection, the sun came up.

Or I could totally be mis-remembering that.

What I do remember that we were sitting at the very back of the Los Angeles Sports Arena, about as far back as you could possibly get from the band, and it was still utterly overpowering.  To felt, it felt like Bruce cared about entertaining the back of the house as much as he cared about the front rows.

The thing I remember the most was the instrumental build-up that climaxes “Racing in the Street,” which was long, slow and utterly majestic. It completely changed how I thought about that song. 

The rest of it is just a blur all these years later, but I do remember walking out and being fully and utterly convinced that I was going to follow what Bruce Springsteen did for the rest of our lives.

“You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch)” performed live in 1980

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #139: Bruce Springsteen – “Growin’ Up (The Agora, Cleveland 1978)”

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Album: The Agora, Cleveland 1978.

Year: 1978.

There was no doubt that Bruce Springsteen understood the power he was unleashing every single night on his 1978 tour. Compared to the relative dourness of Darkness on the Edge of Town, those 1978 shows were a celebration of everything great about rock ‘n’ roll, and maybe only Dylan’s UK ‘66 tour ranks higher in my personal pantheon.

I know that because Bruce was smart enough to allow several radio broadcasts of that tour, knowing that the resulting bootlegs would only increase his fanbase and – subsequently – his future sales. Those radio shows were what you kids today call “viral marketing.”

And I know damn sure it worked on me, via Larry’s tape of the Agora show in Cleveland.

As near was we can piece it together, Larry recorded the Cleveland show from the mighty KMET in Los Angeles while he was at UCLA. What I do remember is that he labeled “Bruce Springsteen Live in CLEVELAND?!?” because it somehow seemed so weird that something so potent came from Cleveland. 

(Please note that I fact-checked the circumstances of that recording with Larry, because the 10 or so of you who will actually read this deserve to be told the truth. As does Larry. Though it’s actually a better story if I said he was there and bribed the soundboard guy with a bag of weed or something.)

That cassette was a key text in my burgeoning love of Bruce Springsteen, and we spent quite a lot of time over the next couple of years listening to it while driving around in his Dodge Colt, visiting other people we’d met on my first form of social media – the CB radio. And my favorite part of the whole cassette was the long story Bruce told in the middle of “Growin’ Up.”

On Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J., “Growin’ Up” was a nice song, but a bit bloodless. In concert on the 1978 tour, while the details would change from show to show, it was essentially Bruce telling his own mythological origins. It’s keyed around his parents telling them that he need to stop playing music and do something with his life, and when they decide to consult a priest, they warn him:

“You tell him you want to be a lawyer. You tell him you want to be a author. But don’t you tell him nuthin about that god damn guitar!”

But the priest thinks it’s too big of a decision, and sends Bruce to talk to God. At that point, Bruce convinces Clarence to go see God with him. And so they do, after the priest gives him the same advice: “Don’t you tell him nuthin’ about this god damn guitar!”

It probably would have been insufferable had it not been so hilarious. All the way through, Bruce works in jokes, local references, self-mocking asides. So when he finally gets to talk to God, you’re fully invested in the outcome.

SPOILER ALERT For a 38-year-old song

“God, my father wants me to be a lawyer. My mother wants me to be an author. But I got this guitar, you see? And all of a sudden, I hear this thunder … I seen this lightning coming out of the sky. 


It was real quiet for awhile. And then I heard just three words:


LET IT ROCK!!!!”

And led by Roy Bittan, the E Street Band comes crashing in and it is truly thrilling. Or at least it was for me.

Oh, and BTW, that bootleg is now – finally – available as an actual legit live album.