Bruce Springsteen – Darkness On The Edge Of Town

Bruce Springsteen: The Boss. Too often (and wrongly) identified with overtly Reagan-esque allegiances after the release of 1984’s patriotic ‘Born In The U.S.A.’, 2004’s Springsteen occupies the enviable position as charity benefactor, political spokesman, philosopher and damn him I’ll say it – icon.

His two most recent albums of new material, 1995’s The Ghost of Tom Joad and 2002’s The Rising received glittering accolades across the board and as they followed a relatively quiet and contemplative decade, were seen as a superb return to form. Moreover, the recent release of a hits package, The Essential Bruce Springsteen and reunion concerts with The E Street Band have further fuelled the Springsteen renaissance (and reappraisal).

Often (and again wrongly) associated with the Meatloaf/Steinman school of sweaty operatic rock ‘n’ roll, Springsteen’s 1970’s and early 1980’s records remain simple, succinct and awe-inspiringly good. Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J. and The Wild, The Innocent & The E Street Shuffle are beautifully raw albums full of fiery enthusiasm and mischievous fun.

And great as they are to listen to as complete works, it’s also easy to spot Springsteen’s burgeoning talent and maturity as a songwriter. Tracks such as ’4th Of July Asbury Park (Sandy)’, ‘Growin’ Up’, ‘For You’ and ‘Spirit In The Night’ are fantastic and timely documents.

His breakthrough album Born To Run (with it’s great title track and fan favourite Thunderoad) brought world-wide success to the all-American blue-collar hero, originally touted as a successor to Bob Dylan but now the irrepressible face of rock ‘n’ roll.

While Born To Run and even Born In The U.S.A. are regularly touted by critics as his most accomplished works, Springsteen is never better than when recording material at his most disillusioned and melancholy. One such album, Darkness On The Edge Of Town remains the glittering jewel in Springsteen’s crown.

Released two years after Born To Run, Darkness On The Edge Of Town represents Springsteen’s first move from predominantly upbeat and at its worst, bittersweet material to that of genuine sorrow, depression and anger. It’s his first album as a grown-up.

Badlands sets up an unfamiliar tone. It’s an upbeat tune, a classic Springsteen rocker in fact, but its lyrics immediately reveal the journey Springsteen has taken and how much he has aged since Born To Run and ‘Thunderoad’. There’s no immediate running away or steaming down the highway in a Chevy to solve all his problems – he’s stuck in the badlands, “caught in a crossfire that I don’t understand”.

This reconsidered escapological theme is recapitulated in ‘The Promised Land’ and ‘Racing In The Street’. Their focus on the mundane day-to-day life of blue-collar America, rather than the imagined utopia lying in wait mark them as progressive contemplations – Springsteen’s attention is now firmly concentrated on deconstructing the environment he once wrote about escaping from. It’s as if he’s decided that it’s time to re-examine the man and artist that he is by investigating his roots and imagining the lives of those he left behind, (perhaps including the one he himself might have had).

Springsteen’s greatest strength remains his blue-collar background and the accessibility that it carries. If traditional blues represented a means of expression for black slaves working in the fields of the deep south, Springsteen’s brand of rock ‘n’ roll does the same for the blue-collar American – at least in a lyrical sense. His music, conversely, is massively influenced by R&B, Motown and early rock n’ roll (just as Elvis Presley’s) and the fusion with familiar working class tales of craved hegira, monotonous hard labour and industrial town life creates a heady mixture – great music and lyrical integrity

Factory is a prime example of Springsteen’s ability to tap into the psyche of his audience and of the lyrical themes mentioned above. A literal commentary on his father’s working life, it’s not only a tale of monotonous survival but also the derogatory effects it produces.

Both physical side effects – “Factory takes his hearing, factory gives him life/the working, the working, just the working life” and psychological – “Men walk through these gates with death in their eyes/And you just better believe boy/Somebody’s gonna get hurt tonight” are tackled in a delicate Country flavoured ballad that remains the most beautiful tune on the album.

Adam Raised a Cain tosses the listener straight into a quagmire of paternal angst, a subject Springsteen knew much about after his own troubled childhood. As with the rest of the album it’s guitar heavy from the opening two-note strum to the stinging middle section solo. Though there’s little room for the jangly piano solos and jazzy saxophones of Born To Run, both instruments remain prominent but restrained both by Springsteen’s voice and guitar. This polished but bare arrangement coupled with Springsteen’s pained and visceral voice screaming “Lost but not forgotten/From the dark heart of a dream/Adam raised a Cain,” emphasises the depth of Springsteen’s bottled up anger – which comes spewing out almost uncontrollably.

Something In The Night and Streets Of Fire find Springsteen at his most reflective and desolate. He is without hope in both: crushed by others in the former and by himself in the latter – and can’t find resolution or hope in either, with flight giving way to resignation and acceptance.
Prove It All Night is a great toe-tapper, featuring one of Springsteen’s best guitar solos. Although the album features more guitar-based tracks than his previous three, Prove It All Night proves Springsteen’s talent as a great musician beyond doubt. Don’t get me wrong, he’s no Rory Gallagher or Jimmy Hendrix but his thin and delicate solo fits perfectly, teetering on the brink of collapse after a typically robust sax solo from Clarence Clemons. Max Weinberg’s drumming is excellent too – full of inventive fills and rolls that propel the song forward at a brisk pace. Lyrically it’s an evocative, escapist ramble and perhaps the closest Springsteen comes to optimism on the album.

The title track endures as one of Springsteen’s best tunes and vocal performances – it remains a highlight of his live act too and judging by his own on-stage response, he obviously still gets a kick out of performing it. It closes this album magnificently and on a strangely euphoric note, which is unsettling in view of the resolutely dispirited and broken relationship it depicts. It’s also a great track for highlighting Roy Bittan’s skill on the piano, which supports Springsteen’s gravelly voice, but never threatens to overpower it or get too fiddly.

While Springsteen’s next album The River would hit big with audiences, Darkness On The Edge Of Town remains the one that first revealed the darker side of The Boss. Springsteen would revisit the themes tackled in Darkness with the raw and irredeemably cold-hearted Nebraska and the folk and Country inflected The Ghost Of Tom Joad. For me however, Darkness On The Edge Of Town remains the most piquant of the three. While the latter albums musically reflect the subjects tackled, Darkness retains Springsteen’s basic rock ‘n’ roll sound, while bolting hard-wedged lyrics onto the frame, personifying the passion magnificently.

Darkness On The Edge Of Town remains an essential purchase for any burgeoning Springsteen fan. It sounds remarkably fresh for a record over twenty-five years old and as with traditional American blues, the issues it endeavours to dissect matter as much today as they ever did.

If you’re a newcomer to Bruce Springsteen, do yourself a favour; after you’ve bought the Best Of… album – put Darkness On The Edge Of Town next on your list. Get to know your Boss.

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