No introduction needed. To take a page from Batty's book, if you don't know who Springsteen is, go **** yourself.
Starting off with a classic.
Darkness On the Edge of Town (1978)
The electric precursor to
Nebraska? This certainly stands as one of Bruce's darkest, most mature albums prior to the recording of that acoustic, stripped-down effort that bared his soul, and that of middle America, for all to see. Not a commercially successful one (which must have really pleased his label after the runaway success of his breakthrough album
Born to Run, released three years previously) it's still highly respected and thought of by Springsteen fans, and like
Born to Run it features accessible, relatable, real characters who ride or drive or just shuffle through its songs like lost souls looking for a home. Of course, much of this could be taken to be allegorical, and in songs like "Factory" and "Streets of fire" Springsteen is obviously using the characters as examples, as metaphors for an injustice and a lack of caring far more than just personal.
But it starts off very upbeat, and through most of its run continues so, even if the lyrics themselves are pretty unremittingly bleak for the most part. A big rolling thunder drum starts off "Badlands", as Springsteen, in the guise of the protagonist, aches to be out of this small town he lives in and do something with his life:
"Talk about a dream/ Tryin' to make it real/ You wake up in the night/ It feels so real/ You spend your life waitin'/For a moment that just don't come" and the energy and exuberance behind the darkness says that anything can be conquered if you have the guts, determination and the will to see your dreams through.
In many ways it parallels the opening of
Born to Run, the restless excitement, the naivete that characterises "Thunder Road", before it all comes crashing down. The E Street Band is in fine form here, and it's sad to think that they'll never be again together, not in this life anyway. Max Weinberg thumps away with enthusiasm and a certain anger as Springsteen, in his characteristic drawl, spits out his fury at being trapped in this one-horse town. The song builds to a climax as Bruce snarls his challenge to anyone who cares to hear it:
"For the ones who had a notion/ A notion deep inside/ That it ain't no sin/ To be glad you're alive/ I wanna find one face/ That ain't lookin' through me/ I wanna one find one place/ I wanna spit in the face of these Badlands!"
I never was crazy about "Adam Raised a Cain", with its almost negro-chorus style, but it's a grinding, angry song that certainly fits in well with the rest of the album. A thick blues guitar gets it going with a thumping bass from Garry Tallent and honky-tonk piano from Roy Bittan backed up by the late Danny Federici's wailing organ as Bruce growls the vocal out with all the defiance he can muster. Still, I find it hard to muster any real enthusiasm for the only song I feel is weak on this album. Memories of that soon disappear though in the piano and rolling drum intro to "Something in the Night", as Bruce wails like a wounded animal before settling down into the vocal. It's a slowburner, with a certain country flavour, as some of the tracks here possess, but probably the best part is near the end when everything stops bar percussion and Bruce sings the vocal in a defeated tone before the band come back in and the whole thing powers right back up to the end.
One of the shortest songs on the album then, "Candy's Room" opens on ticking drum and pattering piano as Springsteen mutters the vocal, more spoken than sung, then he switches to singing and as the percussion thunders in with rolling piano the song takes off and it's a fast rocker running on mostly Bittan and Weinberg's teamup though Steve Van Zandt throws in a fine guitar solo. If you listen to this on headphones, the sound is arranged so that when Springsteen sings
What she wants is me" every second word comes out of the opposite speaker, so that the phrase seems to dart across your head, left to right and back. Very effective. One of the standouts comes next in the beautiful stark piano ballad, "Racing in the Street", which chronicles the desperate attempt to do something to fill up the hours and make something of yourself, as guys race their souped-up cars on the deserted streets after darkness. Lovely whistling keys add to this and provide a motif that runs right through to the end.
Again there's great use of a buildup in the song, where everything drops away to just Bruce and piano for the last part of the song, with a rising choral vocal which I think is created on the keys, then the drums slip in after one final solo flourish from Bittan, the whistling keys painting the signature across the song while the rest of the band comes back in and the whole thing fades out perfectly. "Promised Land" is another uptempo song full of hope, with a big bluesy harmonica from The Boss leading the way as Bittan's piano again drives the song matched closely with Federici's organ. A song of dawning adulthood and the responsibilities that come with it, Springsteen sings
"Mister I ain't a boy/ No I'm a man/ And I believe in a promised land!" If there's something missing from this album I feel it's the Big Man. He's just not as visible on this as he was on "Born to run", but here he storms back in with the kind of sax solos we've come to know him for, and it really adds extra heart and passion to the song. Rest in peace, Clarence: you're missed.
That country influence is back, and never stronger for "Factory", a short song, shortest on the album, barely two minutes. A simple song of working men, it chronicles the people Monty Burns once called Eddie Punchclocks as they eke out their existence, working on the assembly line like robots and drinking to cover the pain and the numb tedium and the hopelessness of it all. Like I said, it's not just about those factory workers: this is literally a song for America, and everyone who wastes their life in a job they hate, simply because there is no choice and men must eat. "Streets of Fire" is led in by Federici's sonorous organ before it explodes into life and Bruce screams
"I want streets of fire!" It's Danny's chance to shine and he really does drive the song, helped by Bittan on the piano and then Bruce weighs in with an almost industrial strength guitar solo.
A simple song of passing the time making love in an attempt to leave the darkness behind, "Prove it All Night" is uptempo but its lyrics speak of desperation, as do many songs on this album, an almost willful reluctance to face the bleak reality of life and a grim determination to enjoy it as much as possible, with a perhaps fitting motto of "not here for a long time, just a good time". Clarence is back with another sweet funky solo which metamorphoses from sax to guitar as Bruce takes over. The title track then is a dour, bitter, country-styled total classic, again driven on slow piano, slow and measured, almost defeated in tone, something of a contrast to the raucous, defiant tone of the preceding tracks. There are explosions of anger and passion in the song, but they're quickly subsumed as the chorus ends and the verse goes back to a slow, sullen tone, with the song fading out at the last.
TRACK LISTING
1. Badlands
2. Adam Raised a Cain
3. Something in the Night
4. Candy's room
5. Racing in the Street
6. Promised Land
7. Factory
8. Streets of Fire
9. Prove it All Night
10. Darkness On the Edge of Town
I got into Springsteen late, through
Born in the USA, not the best introduction to the complex songwriter and performer this man is, I know, but I quickly decided I loved his music and went back through his catalogue, right the way to
Greetings from Asbury Park, NJ, which I must admit I found mostly quite staid and boring, but that's another story. But of the triumvirate of albums that make up what I think of as Springsteen's golden period, this is the one I like best. Of course I love
Born to Run - what Springsteen fan wouldn't? - but although I also like
The River I find it a little overlong ( it is a double album, of course) with some slightly below par songs, I believe this is where Bruce finally found his voice. After declaring his intentions in no uncertain fashion with
Born to Run, it was I think suddenly a case of yes, born to run, but where to? And in this album I think he realised that destination was, in fact, nowhere.
It's well named as an album, because it really is dark, and as I say there would be nothing like it in his catalogue until 1982, when he would unleash the quiet monster that is
Nebraska upon us, and Springsteen fans would never quite be the same again. Even the love songs, the have-fun songs here are tinged with sadness, desperation, bleak humour and an unremitting recognition that all our struggles in the end come to nothing. The darkness is always waiting, there on the edge of town, for us to move towards it, or let it move towards us. A serious, mature rock album that has deservedly taken its place in the pantheon of classics, if you haven't heard this album before, where have you been, and why are you still here? Dark emo-rock? Pfft! The Boss was doing it, and doing it better, thirty years before any of those bands were even alive.
Rating: 9.7/10