rock and roll musings by Tim Byrnes

TALES FROM THE TOP TEN 2: TWISTING WHAT MIGHT BE INTO WHAT IS

Bruce Springsteen: Darkness on the Edge of Town

     It's been said that most men live lives of quiet desperation and I believe that to be true. So much of life often feels like the mere remains of possibility, dully doing our duty dressed in the dust of dreams ground down by the relentless wheel of what's real. Coming after the Peter Pan rush of blind joy that was 'Born to Run', Springsteen's follow up 'Darkness On the Edge of Town'  was a harsh, though cannily accurate, depiction of those earnest believers hitting the brick wall of the day to day. Numbing, endless and ultimately, all that there is after all.

    I know, too many metaphors to say 'life sucks' and I know it doesn't, not much or really, but there's something in this record that calls out to me to surrender. To know the struggle and walk through it without the (artificial?) comfort of family or religion. To wear the wight of humanity w/something approaching quiet pride  for as long as I can until, finally overcome by the unfairness inherent in this human condition to howl in rage. To howl in glory, at Glory. To realize that while the howl has no power over circumstance, that the White Man always wins, that the howl exists as and for itself, as and for ourselves. Animals crying in the night at the pain and the joy, for there is joy, of being alive.

   "She sits on the porch of her daddy's house

     Where all her pretty dreams are torn.

     She stares off, alone, into the night

       With the eyes of one who hates for just being born." - Racing In the Streets

     "... one who hates for just being born." How many soldiers, you think, in that army? This record feels like facing up and moving on. A symphony to regret and, as such, a  more honest gift to mankind than the cryptojingoisms of "Born in the USA". Like the country death songfest "Nebraska", this record tells uncomfortable truths, addresses concerns most would rather not. Failure in all it's phases, with all it's faces permeates these tracks. In 'Adam Raised a Cain' Springsteen rails at the damages families can do. On 'In Candy's Room' he spins a tale of damaged lovers, hiding their lives from the light (and includes a killer-by-way-of-Jeff Beck-guitar-solo) and pretending that all is well.

       Like most of us do everyday.

     That this record has been eclipsed in the Sprinsteenian canon by 'USA' and the Boss' most recent folk forays as the 'Official Troubador of This Post 9/11 World', not to mention the preacher parodies his concerts have become, speaks no ill of Mr. Springsteen but as usual, leaves us holding the bag.

     Brother Leghorn, would you lead us in the evening prayer?

Posted by: timbyrnes at 18:54 | link | comments

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