Least and Most: We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions

Left turn? More like a different road entirely. Springsteen, clearly relishing his career’s rebirth, released three studio albums that varied from each other more than at any other phase of his career. A new E Street Band album was surely on the cards after the success of The Rising but Bruce had a few things to tick off the list first and even that came about via a change in plan.

While putting together material for a planned second Tracks collection, Springsteen found a few songs that he’d cut for a Pete Seeger tribute album. Enthused by the quality and feel of these songs Bruce and Landau wanted to put them out as a stand alone album, except that there weren’t enough. So around the tour behind Devils & Dust, Bruce got the group of musicians that he’d used in ’97 back together for a couple of sessions and cut a shit load more tunes for what was not only his first collection of covers (of folk songs popularised by Seeger) but probably the least obsessed-over album of his career. A volley of great folk tunes – that manage to sound neither entirely Seeger or Springsteen in its approach – that’s not only rough and rowdy but actually sounds like a huge amount of fun was had in recording it.

Least: Froggie Went A Courtin’

‘Froggie Went A Courtin’ closes my copy of We Shall Overcome – as I picked mine up on day of release rather than the later ‘American Land’ version or bonus-track heavy one that’s on the streaming services. There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s still imbued with the same loose-but-fun and solid vibe as the rest of the album but at the end of an album imbued with tunes that lean into work songs, protests tunes and narratives that not only fit in with the general Springsteen ouvre but could also be taken to be deliberately selected based on America’s then-current events… it feels out of place. That’s all. At least it’s not ‘The Frog Chorus’.

Most: Mrs McGrath

I can’t really judge any of these songs on anything other than their handling as ‘a Springsteen song’ – though I’ve heard a few versions of this one since – rather than against the originals. For my money ‘Mrs McGrath’ feels so suited to Bruce and his arrangement and handling of it is so total that I wouldn’t have been surprised to find he’d written it. Given that his own writing – both with ‘Devils & Dusht’ and the central theme of Magic was already pushing in the direction covered by this Irish folk song it shouldn’t really be that unexpected. He inhabits it and delivers it with more passion than anything else on here and I’ve often found myself wondering how it would be handled by him outside of the Seeger Sessions Band.

Least and Most: Devils and Dust

If you look at Springsteen’s discography you’d think that every ten years or so he has an itch to go and write and release a more acoustic leaning, serious album of character-driven narrative. In that respect Devils & Dust – recorded following a short break after touring behind The Rising – fits right in on that schedule.

One important factor to note here, though, is that this isn’t quite the case. While a couple of the songs on Devils & Dust had been heard on his Ghost of Tom Joad tour (often called the ‘Shut the fuck up tour’), the only confirmed new song on here is the title track, the rest had all been recorded by Springsteen between 1995 and 1997, so either during or immediately after Tom Joad but he’d not felt the time was right to drop another acoustic album straight away. Nor, though, did he want these songs to be resigned to the vault either. So Brendan O’Brien was on hand once again to add his enhancements and touches to the core material Springsteen had already recorded, and the new title track.

Whether we’ll ever find out what elements were added or recorded afresh is doubtful. What’s certainly true, though, is that the sonic touches added to the songs on Devils & Dust help it stand apart from Springsteen’s other such albums and lend it a fuller feeling.

So: twelve tracks, all gold? No. There’s a lot of good, solid song craft here as with all Springsteen albums but there are a few tracks that don’t hold up quite as well.

Least: Reno

There was way too much attention given to this song at the time. It’s a bland tune on the musical front and lyrically… well, if we ever wondered how miserable Springsteen thinks getting a hooker in a motel room somewhere would be at least we have the answer here. There’s no need for this song, it’s almost comical how he manages to combine references to the price of anal, blowjobs and a prostitute fingering herself with the oddest with ‘she had your ankles, I felt filled with grace.’ Guy gets a miserable experience with a hooker and distracts himself with reminisces of a former love. Not top of anyone’s wishlist for a Springsteen song.

Best: Devils & Dust

‘Long Time Comin’, ‘All I’m Thinkin’ About’, ‘All The Way Home’ are pretty strong tunes but for my money the newest song on the album is the strongest. The arrangement is probably that which benefits the most from O’Brien’s involvement and it works today as well as it did when the Iraq war was still Springsteen’s focus du jour and the song served as a signpost to wear his songwriting was heading (following a slight detour) on the next full band outing: combining his scathing view of then administration’s decision to lyrics that could be applied out of context and a great tune.

Least and Most: The Rising

After a relative glut of new music through the ’90s, Springsteen would release five new studio albums before the first decade of the new millennium was out. All but one of these would be produced Brendan O’Brien who, starting with The Rising, would help bring Springsteen and the E Street Band’s sound into a sharper, more urgent focus for the next phase of their career after Bruce himself had realised that he (and his usual recording team) no longer knew how to really capture the band in the studio.

On what was billed as his first album with the E Street Band since Born In The USA (they were used only sporadically on Tunnel of Love) and Springsteen returning to his ‘rock voice’ are fifteen songs of consistent quality and message. Wrapped around the unspoken event of 9/11 from which all songs are pitched from the other side of (though some have their origins in those ’90s albums yet to be released) all deal with how to move forward from that day with the all too clear sense of how vital, yet fragile, our lives are.

It’s by both not naming the event itself and the sheer quality of its songs that The Rising continues to stand up as a strong album in Springsteen’s catalogue nearly a quarter-century on. It was the start of his comeback and rebirth and bristles with a vitality that we’d hoped he and the band could still bring to a studio album.

Fifteen tracks, though, is a chunky album and hints at the old cd-bloat era. Are they all good? Should ‘Harry’s Place’ sneaked in instead of something, should the scissors have been taken out of the drawer for a trimmer album? For the most part I’d say no. The songs are strong and, occasionally, fucking brilliant. But for one, that is….

Least: Let’s Be Friends (Skin to Skin)

There are two outliers on this album for me that feel like echoes of the former E Street Band sound as opposed to the vigour with which most of the new material is delivered. While ‘Waitin’ On A Sunny Day’ gets a pass from me, ‘Let’s Be Friends (Skin to Skin)’ always gets the ‘skip’ button. It lacks the cohesion of over songs, sounds under-realised and very much like a product of studio-writing / shoving ideas together.

Most: Worlds Apart

An absolute peach of a Springsteen tune that couldn’t have come at any other time. The sound, the mix, the vitality of the band, the combination of eastern and western voices, the lyrics swirling the subject between the personal – ‘I seek faith in your kiss and comfort in your heart’ – and the universal, searing guitars and an E Street Band fucking hammering it home. This song, more than any on here – and it’s packed with great tunes including the title track – is proof that while this may be Springsteen’s return to his ‘rock voice’ it’s O’Brien’s production that gives it the oomph it had been missing.

Looking forward… another new music fix

Taking a momentary pause in Springsteen-focused posts to look ahead a little. While I haven’t really waded into the ‘that was the year that was’ waters yet there’s plenty already on the horizon for the coming months to look forward to by way of new music and my pre-order pile is already shaping up to the point that I need to reconsider my record storage setup. Again.

Mogwai – Fanzine Made of Flesh

There are some things that are so reliable as to provide comfort. One is that Mogwai will be delivering new music on a regular basis – usually with a soundtrack album in between studio offerings. The others are that these albums are likely to be strong blasts of the good stuff and that they will always contain the strangest of track titles.

With The Bad Fire set to drop in a little over a week, the next track released as a prequel ticks both the quality and the name boxes.

Lucy Dacus – Ankles

Lucy Dacus’ two previous albums – Historian and Home Video – provided some absolutely glorious moments that I still enjoy as often as possible. So with the announcement of Forever Is A Feeling yesterday and the release of ‘Ankles’ and ‘Limerence’ hinting that it’s going to be just as wonderful I jumped on the pre-order button quicker than a MAGA supporter on a link containing flat-earth proof.

Drop Nineteens – Daymom

Drop Nineteens made two brilliant albums in the early ’90s that merged the shoegaze vibe with the then burgeoning alt-rock before packing away their instruments. That they have another new album – after reforming for 2023’s Hard Light – is only good news for me.

Blondshell – T&A

I thoroughly enjoyed the debut from Blondshell – Sabrina Teitelbaum’s recording project – and am keen to get more via her upcoming If You Asked For A Picture. ‘T&A’ takes its title from a line – “tits and ass” – in the Rolling Stone’s song ‘Little T&A.’

My Morning Jacket – Time Waited

It feels like it’s been a while since My Morning Jacket worked with an outside produce but, then again, there was only the one self-titled studio album released during that time. For the up-coming is they’ve worked with Brendan O’Brien whose name you may know from the back of albums by Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots, Rage Against The Machine or Bruce Springsteen’s early ’00s comeback records. While I’m always up for a new My Morning Jacket record I’m very curious as to how O’Brien’s style has worked with the bands. I’ll have to wait until March for the full thing but I’m sure we’ll get more than ‘Time Waited’ ahead of then.

Least and Most: The Ghost of Tom Joad

Three years, an Academy Award, an awkward E Street Band reunion, a Greatest Hits with a cluster of ‘new’ songs, and at least one scrapped album sit between Springsteen’s first albums of the the ’90s and The Ghost of Tom Joad‘s release in November 1995.

I love this album. It’s only grown on me over the years. It’s easily the most musically subdued in his entire back catalogue – with arrangements even starker than Nebraska – yet its beauty lies in those quiet moments and his willingness to paint striking stories with the slightest of brushes. It’s also worth noting that when that brush flushes with colour in the style of, say, the flush of keys on “Dry Lightning”, it’s down to Danny Federici. While it was clearly another left-turn after the short-lived E Street reunion for Greatest Hits, it’s his most consistent set of songs for some time. Rather than grappling with coming to terms with his wealth and status, Springsteen’s eye is turned outward for a compelling set of stories of those that America had turned its back on – working class, foreign born – by the mid-nineties. As the man himself puts it: “the austere rhythms and arrangements defined who these people were and how they expressed themselves….They were transient and led heard, complicated lives, half of which had been left behind in another world, in another country.”

Least: My Best Was Never Good Enough

Springsteen, in ‘Songs’, describes this as his ‘parting joke’ and a way of satirising the way that complex moral issues can be trivialised. Maybe it’s over my head but I’m not sure the album needed a final ‘gag’ song. It feels a bit like ‘Pony Boy’ slapped at the end of Human Touch as if to lighten the listener. It’s not an inherently bad song – none of these ‘leasts’ are – but it’s far from my favourite on the album and doesn’t really sit shoulder to shoulder with the title track, ‘Youngstown’, the compassion of ‘The Line’ or ‘Sinaloa Cowboys’ or…

Most: Galveston Bay

In a way I feel ‘Galveston Bay’ is one of Springsteen’s bravest songs as a songwriter: the lyrics and the story are of the highest quality but the music is so whisper-thin (delicate picking that’s more intonation than melody and the softest of keys, both courtesy of Springsteen, the only credited performer on the track) yet it demands your attention throughout. There’s no verse / chorus / verse structure here – there are two opening stanzas – as this feels more prose than song – that introduce the two characters without an indication of where we’re heading before tackling a theme straight from a real life event in Seadrift in 1979, tackling – in just five minutes – one hell of a story. A harrowing but redemptive story about how, after getting to a certain point, people can actually make the right choice instead of a deadly choice. It’s more a short story set to music.

I’ve been hooked on ‘Galveston Bay’ since I first heard The Ghost of Tom Joad and that hook has only sunk deeper as time moves on.