Bruce Springsteen, Wrecking Ball, 2012

Album Review.  Oh yeah, Hello World!

I probably should have done this earlier, but I’d like to point out some of the things I think I’m going to be doing here.  There will be a heavy selection bias in the things I choose to review.  It will rarely be the case that I purchase a record or go to a show that I’m predisposed to dislike.  So, when I review something, the focus will likely be on why I like it, what it means to me.

Music is a big part of my life, like it is for most people, I think.  I’ve almost always got something playing unless it would be considered rude.  Often, a particular song will come to mind when I witness or participate in some major event – elections, professional football games, family road trips, the first of the month.  Over the last year or so, I’ve taken a major cooldad step and finally decided to learn the guitar; so if I’m not listening to music in my free time, I’m attempting to play it.  And, while I may be guilty of a bit of “rockism,” I try to keep an open mind about the things I hear.  Even the auto-tuned, corporate stuff the cooldaughters so enjoy.

So there will probably be few if any “bad” reviews here.  Most will probably be of the “if you like this sort of thing, then this is the sort of thing you’ll like” category.  But I’ll tell you how something made me feel or what it made me think about; and if you think you think like me, then maybe that will give you some insight.

Bruce Springsteen is a great artist for my first review.  I don’t think it’s possible for me to write a bad review of a Springsteen record.  I will never tire of his first four albums, and I consider Darkness on the Edge of Town his masterpiece.  That’s the album where he started to morph from “Urban Springsteen” – the kid from Jersey who sang about his state and the big city across the river – to “Americana Springsteen,” or something else that conveys his widening focus.  On Darkness he blended both of those superbly in a series of angry, beautiful songs.  The cover of that album is an example of how Springsteen has always made himself part of the current conversation.  He’s leaning against that wall wearing his leather jacket like a 1970’s punk, with an expression on his face that calls to mind Patti Smith on the cover of Horses.

When I mentioned that I don’t think that Wrecking Ball is close to Springsteen’s best, this is what I meant.  I don’t think there are many records that, for me, approach Darkness on the Edge of Town, Born to Run, or even The Wild The Innocent and the E Street Shuffle.  But this is the best album Springsteen has made in a long time.  There are some great songs on The Rising (“My City in Ruins” comes immediately to mind) and Magic (“Long Walk Home,” “Magic,” “Gypsy Biker”), but as whole albums they were weighed down a bit by Springsteen’s new approach to universal themes.

Wrecking Ball deals with issues of the same scale.  America’s Great Recession is as heavy a topic as September 11^th or war.  He just gets the balance right this time, I think.

The album is sequenced wonderfully, and you should really listen to it in one sitting to appreciate the care that Springsteen took here.  The first half is angry about the fact that America, both its politicians and its people, has brought itself to this point.  The second half of the album, starting with the fantastic title track, is more hopeful and a call to fight for something if you want it.

This could be really corny, but Springsteen has taken what he learned during his sojourn through the American Songbook and from some of the recent acts upon whom he’s an obvious influence to make it work.  You can hear the Seeger Sessions in songs like “Death to my Hometown” and “Shackled and Drawn.”  Wrecking Ball contains the most overt use of religious imagery that I’ve ever heard on a Springsteen album, calling to mind Craig Finn and the Hold Steady.  The female voices, strings, and the army of musicians in the credits draw on the approach taken by Arcade Fire.  Finally, the tool that Springsteen best uses to overcome the bombast and the corn-factor of his other “Big Issue” records is humor: musical humor like the Johnny Cash riff in “We Are Alive,” and lyrical humor like telling us all that things that appear to have outlived their usefulness still have a lot to give from the point of view of an anthropomorphic football stadium.

And I can be a corny guy.  Wrecking Ball more than once gives me a lump in my throat.  It’s Bruce Springsteen again making himself part of the conversation, and he’s trying some new things.  Most of them work.  I don’t even think the rap break is that bad.

If you’re a casual fan, and you haven’t paid much attention to his last several albums, then give this a try.  You’ll find that, like an old structure out in the swamps of Jersey, even though he’s grown older, he’s just as tough as he ever was.