Only seven songs? This should be a walk in the park. Let me pull up a video of the first song...
Bruce Springsteen - The Wild, The Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle
1. The E Street Shuffle - Kicking off with the sound of an orchestra committing suicide, I can already tell that this is going to suck. Bruce's vocals come in, sounding like a dude banshee crying out in pain while taking a violent sh
it in the boggy moors of mediocre rock. The saxophone sounds so much like a fart that I think this song is actually just a recording of Bruce shuffling down E Street to get to a bathroom as quick as possible. The only thing that saves this song is the funky backing band, but even if they were the best band in the world, they could only do so much, in the same way that a beautiful frame can't make a canvas that someone took a s
hit on look all that much better.
2. 4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy) - The video for this one was preceded by an ad for Taco Bell, as if youtube knew that I was being assaulted by a figurative wave of s
hit, and thought that I would appreciate a literal one as well. The song starts with some guitar strumming, and then the perpetually drunk guy from your local karaoke bar starts vomiting out words. More instruments come in, including an accordion, because
of course there would be an accordion in a goofy ass song like this.
3. Kitty's Back - This song sounds like it slid out of a kitty's backside. It starts off as more goofy funky cheese, before slowing down as Bruce musically ejaculates all over himself, and then it gets *groan*
jazzy. Someone walks across a keyboard, and the saxophones come in later on, showing uncharacteristic mercy as they quickly depart. One of the youtube comments says "If you are still sitting... why?!", and I have to ask that question as well. After having this musical pear of anguish rip through their ass, how could
anyone sit still rather than run around screaming in pain?
4. Wild Billy's Circus Story - Bruce starts this one by softly saying "A one, two, three four...", and then farting into the microphone. I swear to god. He keeps going, and the accordion makes another appearance, like one of those horrible fuc
king shows that keeps inexplicably popping up no matter how many times you change the channel. Bruce starts moaning while strumming a guitar, and "singing" about a bunch of people working in a circus. I think he's "singing" from experience when he mentions the circus' human cannonball, because with all of this baritone farting he's doing, he's almost certainly done his fair share of flying around, propelling himself through the air like a satanic blimp.
5. Incident On 57th Street - This one starts with a piano, before getting all cheesy and funky. Bruce serenades the audience, sounding like an unspeakable hellbeast crooning up at the balcony of his spirit-rending lover. It slows down a bit near the end, before picking up again. A choir of fallen angels comes in and backs Bruce up, desperate to please the man that has no doubt claimed possession of their souls, and forced them to be in this abomination of an album. The song ends as it began, with a piano, reminding the audience that all people eventually leave this world the same way that they came into it; despite being surrounded by others, we are scared and alone, desperately searching for comfort.
6. Rosalita - Guitars, drums, and then a saxophone. When the end times eventually come, and the four horsemen of the apocalypse ravage the world, I have no doubt that the haunting sound of Bruce's saxophonist will herald the arrival of Pestilence, travelling along deadly winds of disease. This song is yet another goofy funky mess. According to a rumor, Bruce got a severe case of indigestion before recording the vocals for this song. Desperate to finish the tune, someone recorded The Boss' pain-tinged wailing from the other side of the bathroom door, and the rest was history. Ha ha ha. Kill me.
7. New York City Serenade (for Lenny)- Starts off with a piano, before a guitar eventually buzzes past like a mosquito. After some strumming, Bruce starts whining while someone plays the bongos in the background. Ugh. After that accordion business earlier, adding bongos to the mix makes this album a floppy musical phallus that slaps into your ears with reckless abandon. One of the youtube comments reads "This song is a little deep. I don't want to talk down to nobody, but if you didn't get the first time, you won't get it this time." Jesus, that crap is so pretentious that even Frownland just slapped his forehead. It's a whiny song about living in the city, and it's about as deep as a puddle of piss sliding around the floor of a New York metro car. I don't know who the "Lenny" is that this song was dedicated to, but I think he has a fair case for suing Bruce for aural assault.
This album is genuinely bad. If you like Bruce, then you will probably enjoy it, granted the mental asylum you're staying in deems that you're stable enough to have a music collection in your room.
All jokes aside, it was alright. Definitely not my cup of tea. I probably won't ever listen to it again.