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.

Least and Most: Lucky Town

In theory I should have released this post on the same day as that for Human Touch, right? If only this weren’t a massively busy month for me professionally and personally I may well have done.

However, that does lead me nicely to my thoughts on this album that have changed somewhat in the years since the full album rankings. I think the widest-held belief is that if Bruce were to have taken the best of Human Touch‘s tunes and added them to Lucky Town he’d have had a real victory on his hands and there are plenty of takes out there on what that ‘Lucky Touch’ album would contain.

Thing is, having listened to Lucky Town a lot more over the years, I don’t think that’s necessary. Lucky Town is a really solid set of tunes that feel complete as it is – this is Springsteen in the early ’90s grappling with his concerns (coming to terms with his wealth, his new life as both a married man and a parent) and dealing with them with the same levels of compassion, honesty and humour that underpinned his best work in the previous decades and with some great tunes to boot. What I know wonder, then, isn’t ‘what if Bruce had compiled the best of both?’ but more ‘what if he’d never released Human Touch after all?’ I mean, we’ll never know, but this feels like the start of Bruce second-guessing. He wasn’t sure Human Touch was ready and had sat on it for over a year thinking it needed one more song whereas Lucky Town came together really quickly. Had Lucky Town not had the shadow of Human Touch then I feel Springsteen’s first album of the ’90s would have been received a lot more favourably and probably had a bigger impact.

Anyway, that’s not what we’re here for. It’s a solid album but, sure, it has a few lows of which the standout for me is..

Least: Leap of Faith

Across the two albums, seven songs would be released as singles of which this was the weakest of the bunch if you ask me. I can’t say there’s anything inherently wrong with it, I just can’t enjoy this one, it feels like a by-the-numbers studio session without much true feeling behind it.

Most: Living Proof

I could just as easily go to bat for ‘Better Days’, ‘Local Hero’ and even the title track but ‘Living Proof’ has continued to grow in my esteem over the years and especially as a parent, it feels all the more powerful.

Least and Most: Human Touch

You know how it is with quotes and soundbites – sometimes their origin gets lost even when the quote itself remains pure and valid. I’ve got a sneaky feeling it was Hall of Fame related – possibly while inducting someone else – but Springsteen is on record and oft-cited as saying “I tried it [writing happy songs] in the early ’90s and it didn’t work; the public didn’t like it.”

Now the problem with this is many-fold and as we now lurch into the ’90s with this series, this feels as good an opportunity as any to address this.

Firstly – pretty sure Springsteen’s work of the previous decades is also littered with ‘happy’ songs too. I don’t think anyone is getting a lump in their throat listening to ‘I’m A Rocker’ or ‘She’s The One’ nor would they with the upbeat songs in the decades to come.

Secondly – it wasn’t the emotional nature of the songs that went unliked. It was the quality.

If there is a third point here, and I’m fairly certain of that, it’s that the ’90s were as prolific for Bruce as any other decade. We just haven’t heard most of it as it’s been shelved. I’ve seen mention, at some point, of five unreleased records from the ’90s. Even Van Zandt mentions going down to Rumson to hear a new batch of songs while the Boss fretted about not having a single yet. I haven’t spoken much about ‘Unrequited Infatuations’ yet but you have to take some elements with a pinch of salt as Van Zandt feels to have single-handedly shaped entire careers and global political movements with just a few sage words at the right time. However, given that he claims that havingtold Springsteen to revisit his Nebraska vibe resulting in The Ghost of Tom Joad, that puts this conversation in the early ’90s. Springsteen’s early ’90s seems to be more a period of second-guessing than it does of making happy songs.

Back to point 2 though…. listening back through the albums in sequence again for this series has been great. It’s also given me a different perspective on this album. I can’t remember the point in my collecting that I originally purchased Human Touch (and probably Lucky Town at the same time) but I know it wasn’t in release order. It makes it all the more evident that quality control suffered a big drop off with Human Touch. There were always lesser songs on Springsteen’s albums but Human Touch feels like the first time in which – rather than give such tunes to other artists or assign them as b-sides – the minor material makes up the bulk of the album and, while it’s not all bad, the good songs feel like outliers. After waiting four and a half years for a new Bruce Springsteen album and getting just shy of an hour’s worth of this lesser material, it’s understandable that it wasn’t well liked.

It could be that there’s a lack of chemistry between Bruce and ‘The Other Band’ that means the weaker elements of the songs can’t be carried over by great playing, but it’s not like he picked up of people that only knew a few chords. The songs are simply ineffective. There’s a song about TV, ffs. There’s also a song about feeling like a Real Man with his girl that actually contains the line “Rambo he was blowin’ ’em down”. It’s come to something when ‘Pony Boy’ isn’t the worst thing on an album.

Least: Cross My Heart

‘Cross My Heart’ is a pretty unforgettable and unremarkable tune. It doesn’t even sound like Bruce is that enthused about it and he’s the one singing it. Listening to Tracks it feels like he had half a dozen that were pretty much the same song as this and may just as well have chosen one at random to put on the finished disc. It tries to lift the beat and find momentum at points but it honestly feels more like a backing track and really sits amongst his lesser material for me.

Most: With Every Wish

Yeah, for all the mountain of filler there are some pretty good songs here that feel exactly how you’d want Springsteen to sound at the start of the ’90s. The title track is a bit of a gem. ‘Roll of the Dice’ – written with Roy Bittan – feels like it could have made a good E Street rave up given a chance.

‘With Every Wish’, though, is the rarest of things on these albums: it feels like a natural Bruce Springsteen song. The gentle nagging melody, the cautionary tale of love, the sweep of strings and a horn (courtesy of Mark Isham’s muted trumpet) that make it feel like it comes from a different, better album. It feels as close to a natural follow on from Tunnel of Love‘s material as you can get. It had me hooked the first time I heard Human Touch and still holds my attention throughout. The fact that it’s more sedate in its pace and accompaniment means not only is the production less overwrought and feel of session players absent but it suits Springsteen’s more mature songwriting themes that little bit better too.

Least and Most: Tunnel of Love

While he’s never pulled a Landing On Water style curveball, it’s not as though Springsteen has ever really repeated an album formula since he broke through. From the success of Born To Run he dialled the production down for the leaner, meaner Darkness… while Nebraska‘s stark, acoustic desperation was an equally far cry from the sprawl of The River. Following Born In The USA‘s success with a similar stadium-pleasing muscle-bound punch would have been an easy call and the ’80s were full of similar ‘dial it up a notch for more dosh’ examples. Bruce, however, was ready to move on and look inward instead.

Tunnel of Love is one of Springsteen’s finest albums. Where he’d undoubtedly written about men and women before, this time the voice felt real and the vocabulary didn’t feel borrowed. Just as Springsteen himself got off the road and started to look at his own married life and the issues he was dealing with, he took his characters out of their cars and sat them at the table to take a long hard look at each other. As genuine and nuanced a set of songs as he’d ever release with a gorgeous sound and production.

So is there a least favourite lurking among yet another stellar collection of songs? Yup…

Least: I Ain’t Got You

I guess this is here to say ‘this isn’t another ‘rock’ album’ but ‘I Ain’t Got You’ is an odd choice for Springsteen. By all accounts it lead to the second of Springsteen’s three fights* with Steven Van Zandt when he played it for him. As SVZ put it, when Bruce played it to him: “People depend on your empathy!” I said. “It’s what you do best. They don’t want advice from Liberace or empathy from Nelson Fucking Rockefeller! You shouldn’t be writing shit like this!” While it wouldn’t be the last time Bruce wrote in this style (see Better Days’ ‘a life of leisure and a pirate’s treasure’) it’s more jarring thanks to it’s almost entire lack of musical accompaniment.

Most: One Step Up

This one’s easy for me. ‘One Step Up’ is not only an album highlight but one of my favourite Springsteen songs. A pensive ballad with haunting production that’s got just the right amount of that late-’80s vibe and a simple but effective melody that ticks away throughout that’s possibly the most on-the-nose reference to a marriage breakdown as the album would contain: ‘another fight and I slam the door on another battle in our dirty little war.’ It represents not only a break with the past – Springsteen played every instrument on the track himself with Patti Scialfa adding vocal harmonies – but a clear indication as to where his song writing would move him next, only he’d never quite the balance as perfect as this.

*For those keeping score: Fight 1 was over creative and decision making input around the sessions for Born In The USA which led to SVZ’s departure. The third was down to Springsteen’s induction into The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame without the E Street Band.

Tuesday afternoon, I’m just beginning to see… Tuesday tunes

Another temporary interruption in Springsteen posting bought to you by the urge to share other things that have been worming into my ears lately.

Kim Deal – Nobody Loves You More

Kim Deal’s debut solo album – which is a pretty weird thing to be typing given the length of her career – continues to be a source of delight. There’s a wonderful sense of freeness to the songs that’s beautifully infections.

Smashing Pumpkins – Pentagrams

Also a weird thing to be typing in 2024… the new Smashing Pumpkins album has proven a regular spinner since the physical version arrived a few weeks back. While it’s not going to sit up there with them in terms of quality, it’s nice to hear the band creating guitar-heavy tunes in the style of their stellar ’90s output.

Wilco – Impossible Germany

Sky Blue Sky really is a wonderful album, isn’t it? I love how this song develops and takes flight.

Momma – Ohio All The Time

There’s something deliciously late ’90s / early ’00s soundtrack vibe about this that I adore. I caught this a while back and it’s gotten me hooked on the band since.

George Harrison – Isn’t It A Pity

Of all the things John Lennon regretted saying, “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” is probably not on the list. But I’d hope he regretted having consistently vetoed Harrison’s ‘Isn’t It A Pity’ after George put it forward in 1966. It’s that time of the year when I slowly rewatch ‘Get Back’ and each time it’s more a surprise that George didn’t leave sooner given how crappily Heroin John reacted to the songs he was bringing to the fold. Anyway, there’s not much better than this.

Least and Most: Born In The USA

“Sometimes records dictate their own personalities and you just have to let them be…. I finally stopped doing my hesitation shuffle, took the best of what I had and signed off on what would be the biggest album of my career”

Work on what would become Born In The USA began in early 1982. The years of sessions would yield close to 80 songs – including those that became Nebraska – would see the departure of Steven Van Zandt and an album that went through multiple versions before the forces that be put an end to the inertia that Springsteen seemed stuck in and his most grab-bag collection of songs was released to kick off BOSS MANIATM with Rambo Bruce rocking a head band or bandana and flexing his way across a stadium stage near you for a year and a half.

I’ve written about those multiple versions, those ‘what could have been‘ albums already. But here we’re talking about two songs from the album we did get. An album that’s a real curate’s egg. king at how this was the last of Springsteen’s albums where there were whole multiple albums of outtakes, you get the feeling that this is the point at which he was starting to get lost in his search and could’ve ended up carrying on to Chinese Democracy lengths if he wasn’t careful. Which certainly explains the reserve with which he’s come to view the album too.

Thing is, each of these songs work. This is still peak-period Springsteen so none of these songs are ‘bad’ in the traditional sense (don’t worry Human Touch is only a few years away) but the album lacks the consistency / sense of cohesion that previously embodied his work. As such, and not so surprising given that seven of its twelve tracks were released as singles, it feels like a compilation rather than an album.

Least: Cover Me

I feel like I’m in a minority with this one given that it was a hit single and all but there’s something about it that just means I don’t take it in as much as the rest of the album. Maybe it’s because it wasn’t written as his own song. It was intended for Donna Summer. While ‘Hungry Heart’ was initially meant for The Ramones it felt like a Springsteen song meant to be given away rather than writing specifically for someone else’s voice. As such the feel of the song in amongst the rest of the album doesn’t gel for me.

I will say, though, that in many respects, this song is a noteworthy one. Just as the message of ‘Born In the USA’ become overlooked some flag-waving Republicans (oh, those were the days, right America? How bad does Reagan seem now?),Springsteen’s singing a song written for and from the female voice without any alteration to lyric is a wonderful thing – here’s Springsteen with his stocky frame now bedecked with muscles calling for a lover to ‘wrap your arms around me, cover me’ and protect him a rough world that’s only getting rougher.

It’s the directness of those lyrics that make it tough for me to call it ‘Least’ but it’s the sound of it that I can’t quite vibe with. He struggled trying to find a way to get it right live on that Born In The USA tour too… it wasn’t a regular set list staple until Arthur Baker’s remix gave him a way in by slowing it and making it a little ominous and brooding. The live versions are now pretty fucking great, but we can’t count those here so let’s move along…

Most: Downbound Train

Only on an album where the majority of songs were released as singles could a song this strong be considered a ‘deep cut,’ but ‘Downbound Train’ feels like a piece of over-looked gold in amidst a sea of chest-thumping stadium pleasers. “Now I work down at the car wash, where all it ever does is rain” might be one of my favourite Springsteen lyrics but this song is fucking stuffed with them, all evocative… what about the whole fucking verse:

“There in the clearing, beyond the highway
In the moonlight, our wedding house shone
I rushed through the yard, I burst through the front door
My head pounding hard, up the stairs I climbed
The room was dark, our bed was empty
Then I heard that long whistle whine
And I dropped to my knees, hung my head and cried”

‘Downbound Train’ is one of those first clutch of songs that came from Springsteen’s home recordings that included Nebraska‘s songs and tracks like ‘Born in the USA’ and ‘Johnny Bye Bye’ that he put to tape in 1982 and appeared on almost every potential track list for release between then and the final album. In less than a decade since the thesaurus-groping first two albums he’d distilled his songwriting down to the point where he could render a full story of broken hopes, marriage and lives with much clearer precision.

Pain, hope, desperation… it’s all there in a tune containing some of his most aching lyrics put to a great driving (or train-like chugging) melody with just the right amount of that ’80s synth. To me, this is the biggest indicator on the album of where we’d find New Jersey’s finest on his next outing.

Least and Most: Nebraska

How many artists can manage to create a five-star album when they weren’t actively trying to make an album in the first place?

I’m not going to reiterate the story behind Springsteen’s Nebraska. Aside from the fact that there’s already a film of the period in the works – honestly though; ‘man makes austere collection of songs on home four-track as guide for band, carries it around in pocket for so long it nearly gets absorbed by his denim before putting them out as is’ feels as thrillingly entertaining as watching Timothee Chalamet trying not to look like he knows what instragram is for long enough to finish singing ‘Like A Rolling Stone’ – it’s been told many a time.

My connection to Nebraska goes back to 1999, hearing ‘State Trooper’ played over the end credits of a Sopranos episode and – streaming services that mug off artists not being a thing yet – went out and picked up both my second and third (having picked up Greatest Hits in ’95) Springsteen albums in one hit as it came as double-cd combo with Darkness… Talk about an auspicious intro.

This, then, is the hardest one of these for me. There’s not a single song on Nebraska I don’t enjoy. These are ten songs that feel perfectly placed and without an ounce of fat on the whole joint. If I were to be picky, very, very, very picky – which is what I’d have to be to even think like this – I’d say that, possibly..

Least: Used Cars

But only because compared to everything else the lyrics sound a little slight. But then that’s not necessarily a bad thing because Springsteen was ‘high’ on Flannery O’Connor’s work and her ability to write pure narrative including from a child’s perspective and the songs simple yet pure dream of a greater life typified by the feeling that a lottery win would mean – of all things – the ability not to drive a used car is pitch perfect especially as it follows up ‘State Trooper.’ So this isn’t so much Least more like a Least (barely) but still fucking great….

Which leaves the trick of identifying the other end of the spectrum but for me that’s relatively straight forward…

Most: State Trooper

It has to be, for me: it’s the one that sent me spiralling deeper into Springsteen’s catalogue and still captivates me. That pulsating guitar line that emulates the monotonous, repetitive sound of the road.. the pleading ‘Please don’t stop me, PLEASE don’t stop me’… it’s perfect.

Least and Most: The River

In theory this is where it gets easier. For while Springsteen was still churning work of unyielding quality some of those tracks, in retrospect, probably should have been left in the vault. Doesn’t necessarily mean that choosing a ‘most’ is going to be easier but singling those ‘meh’ tracks out gets simpler

The River, released – just before I was – in October 1980, was Springsteen’s double album statement of purpose. We’re deep into Bruce’s era of stockpiling songs here and between the end of 1979 and May 1980 when recording sessions began and ended across two different phases, close to 60 songs were recorded to a finished state. As the studio time began to clock up an antsy Steven Van Zandt already wanted out, he was convinced to stay put by being made part of the production team that already included Springsteen and Jon Landau. SVZ’s imprint is clear on many of the shorter, punchier tunes but The River is a sprawling beast of an album that for many years became the best one-stop-shop for all things Sprinsgsteen. It’s why he couldn’t let it go – despite a couple of finished, mixed versions going to the label – as a single album:

“It wasn’t big enough. It wasn’t sprawling enough. It didn’t include enough. I’d gotten to the point where I wanted to include everything that I did, from the party material to my character studies, and I didn’t think I could do that successfully on one album at that time. I didn’t take it back with the intention of making two…. I just took it back with the intention of making it better.”

So, twenty songs. Are they all gold? Of course not. Hell, this is the first of many instances where archival releases would beg the questions ‘how did X make the cut over this?’ With that in mind…

Least: Crush On You

“Ooh, ooh, I gotta crush on you, Ooh, ooh, I gotta crush on you, Ooh, ooh, I gotta crush on you tonight”… I mean, it sounds naff enough once, let alone when it’s repeated ad nauseum after just the second verse. Verses so slight they feel like they were put together with fridge magnets. No amount of SVZ styled garage-band-rave-up sound can save this – even Springsteen has called it the stupidest song he’d ever recorded and would sarcastically refer to it as ‘a masterpiece’ in 2009. It becomes even more questionable when you weight it up against the aforementioned tracks consigned to archival releases like ‘Take ‘Em as They Come,’ ‘Roulette’ or ‘Where The Bands Are.’

Most: The River

This is very tricky. I love ‘Point Blank’, ‘Stolen Car’, ‘Wreck On The Highway’…. ‘Two Hearts’ is an underrated slab of brilliance and ‘Out In The Street’ and ‘Hungry Heart’ are undisputed fucking gems. But the second that harmonica hits or Bruce utters ‘I come from down in the valley’ you know where you are. It’s a PIVOTAL song in his back catalogue and while he still felt he needed four or five songs in the same style to make an epic album, Van Zandt was right when he said you only need ‘The River’ and you’ve got an amazing album.

Least and Most: Darkness on the Edge of Town

Have I mentioned that some of these are gonna be harder than others? That few artists have as impressive a streak of great albums as Springsteen? Good. Because I’ve now reached my favourite Springsteen album. One of my favourite albums of all time: Darkness on the Edge of Town.

This is the first of many Springsteen albums where – after legal wranglings stopped him going into the studio for a bit – the man they call Boss began writing more tunes than anyone could possibly fit onto one album as he racked up studio time searching for the right songs and final album. It meant that three years separate it from his breakthrough and that it would, looking back, become his first left-turn from what was expected in a move he’d repeat throughout his career. Who knows: had he gone back into the studio with Jon Landau when he first wanted to – his manager Mike Appel wanted to take advantage of Born To Run‘s success with a live album instead – we might just have got Born To Run 2: The Road Worrier. The songs on Darkness.. instead drew their inspiration from characters by Johns Steinbeck and Ford, the music lost the ‘everything but the kitchen sink’ production in favour of something leaner, rawer and tinged with attitude of the nascent punk scene somehow married to Springsteen’s interest in country too. These weren’t ‘losers’ anymore, they were working class heroes living tough lives against a tough sound in which The E Street Band provide the power to give them an edge.

The result is damn-near unimpeachable. This one, though, is an easy choice for me:

Least: Factory

To me ‘Factory’ sucks the air out the album just as it’s gotten going on Side B with ‘The Promised Land’. I get it; it’s the counter to ‘Adam Raised A Cain’ in as much it’s his exploring the mundane daily toll of his father’s working life but it lacks the urgency, the punch and visceral nature of both the album’s other songs and those others he would write dealing with the same matter. The music doesn’t work for me – it didn’t work when used as ‘Come On (Let’s Go Out Tonight)’ and makes Springsteen’s invite to party (at the flipping factory of all renowned swinging hotspots) as inviting as a cold-water enema.

Most: Racing In The Street

Hell, it might just be one of Springsteen’s best ever songs. I’ve still got a love for the ’78 version too but the original has always hit hardest. One of the first songs he started writing for Darkness.. it didn’t need to evolve so much as refine until the solo piano song ‘Dying in the Street’ until it became the epic call back to Born To Run‘s dreamers who now lived only to hit the strip. Who knows when or how he hit upon the line – “Some guys they just give up living and start dying little by little, piece by piece” – that pins the song down and grounds it but it makes it one of the best he’s put to tape.