Published on Apr 15, 2005
After the release of
The River, Bruce Springsteen had a lot going for him. His
previous three albums had been successes, the hits were starting to
pile up, and the question became, what would the Boss do next? The
answer: ditch the E Street Band and record an acoustic, bleak and
depressing album the likes of which he had never attempted
before.
The power of Springsteen’s music has always come from his
ability to weave intense narratives, much like Dylan. Often times
however, the story would get lost in the “Springsteen experience.”
Albums like
Born To Run and
Greetings From Asbury Park N.J. featured great songwriting,
but the sound of the records could overshadow them. Here on
Nebraska, in chilling detail, there is nothing else but
these tales of isolation and loneliness. Yet hope springs eternal,
and this is also true of
Nebraska.
The opening title track tells the story of Charlie Starkweather,
a murderer of the worst degree. There is no condemnation, no
preaching from the pulpit that rock and roll has a tendency to be,
there is simply the story of a man who is faced with “that great
void,” and who wants his baby “sittin’ right there on my lap.”
Without a doubt, “Nebraska” ranks up there as one of the most
powerful lyrics Springsteen has written.
However, the title track is not the only song dealing with the
law. “Johnny 99,” “State Trooper” and “Highway Trooper” all deal
with authority in some way, and how some rebel against it. The
latter track tells the story of two brothers, one of whom is a
police officer. Throughout the course of their lives, the officer
turns the other cheek in regards to his brother’s actions. However,
one night gets out of hand, and the officer ends up chasing his
brother to the Canadian border, where he “pulled over the side of
the highway and watched his taillights disappear.” In the end, as
the character himself says, “Nothin’ feels better than blood on
blood.”
Much of the talk so far has been about what Springsteen has to
say, more than how he says it. The simple reality is this album
would have been a failure if it had been presented in any other
fashion. Instead of hearing Clarence Clemons blasting away on the
sax, or Max Weinberg pounding away on the drums, the listener has
just a man and his guitar. With each track, Springsteen jumps into
each character’s skin and becomes them. One can hear the heartbreak
during “My Father’s House,” or in direct contrast the joy that is
contained within “Open All Night,” or the primal rage screamed in
“State Trooper.” The tracks on
Nebraska say more to me as a feeling human than any other
Springsteen album save perhaps
The Rising.
However, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. The very
last track, “Reason To Believe,” highlights all the toils and
troubles people go through in life, yet at “the end of every
hard-earned day people find some reason to believe.”
Nebraska at first listen may seem to imply that there is no
hope, and at times it is hard to get over the apparent
meaninglessness Springsteen attributes to the lives of his
characters, but in the end I can’t help but think Bruce
intentionally placed this track as the album’s closer. The greatest
statement
Nebraska makes is that people go on.