It's been 30 years since Bruce Springsteen released the wildly popular Born In The U.S.A. album, which would go on to become the most popular album of his career, and one of the best selling records of all-time. It's also been 30 years since Ronald Reagan came under fire for using its title track as the theme song to his 1984 Presidential campaign. Like so many other folks, Reagan didn't seem to get the point. Despite the cheerful melody, the song was not a flag-waving anthem, but rather a sad story of a Vietnam vet who has trouble finding work after the war. But many people chose to ignore the lyrics because they simply got caught up in the melody, and how easy it was to simply chant "born in the U.S.A." without thinking of the deeper lyrical content behind those words.

To some degree, this was understandable. If we're being honest, there are plenty of people who don't pay a great deal of attention to the lyrics, and just focus on the catchy tune. That's why people were stunned to find out that Third Eye Blind's "Semi-Charmed Life" was about crystal meth, even though it's referenced directly in the lyrics without any attempt to be covert about. Most people just knew it as the "doo doo doo" song and paid no attention to whatever was going on in the verses.

Sometimes dark lyrics and a dark melody still aren't enough to get people to understand what a song is trying to do. Consider Kendrick Lamar's single "Swimming Pools (Drank)," which became one of late 2012/early 2013's more enduring hits. It's hard not to read this song as anything other than a condemnation of alcohol abuse, and when Lamar mentions his grandfather doing the "golden flask backstroke every day in Chicago," we're supposed to understand that this was a reference to someone who had a serious problem with alcohol. And if that wasn't enough, the beat is dark and foreboding, seemingly intended to warn someone of the dark road they are headed for if they don't stop turning it up a notch. While it was easier to just think of it as a fun drinking anthem, it was hard to ignore the voice in our heads that desperately wants to view the idea of getting a swimming pool of liquor and diving in it as a pretty fucking fun activity.

So, where is this conversation headed? Quite simply, people have a long history of ignoring both lyrics and their deeper meaning so that they can make the song into whatever they want. Consider the war that was fought over "Blurred Lines" last summer. For many, lyrics in the song that seem to promote rape culture were an unavoidable fact, and the song was condemned by a lot of people, but it still spent more time at the top of the charts than any other song that year. So, how could that be? Were people nakedly approving of lyrics that seemed to take some highly questionable stances on sexual assault? Well, maybe in some instances, but for the most part, people just wanted to dance to a catchy song. They didn't want to think about what the lyrics were actually saying because if we're being honest, pop music is a form of escapism. That's why the backlash to the song was met with such anger: for people who didn't consider what the lyrics were saying, they could only wonder why those pesky feminists were trying to ruin their good time.

To some degree, misinterpreting song lyrics is understandable and unavoidable. Hell, I'd be lying if I told you I never took a second look at a song I thought I had a firm grip on and thought "wait, THAT'S what that song's about?!," so I can certainly relate. At the same time, I do wonder if we're doing all we can to work towards understanding what the songs we love are actually saying. There's nothing wrong with loving music as a form of escapism, but we should spend a little time thinking about the messages our favorite bands are trying to project. If not, we risk having the message be cheapened, or worse, disappear from the conversation altogether, It's enough to raise the question: if we don't care about our favorite songs mean, do they really mean anything at all?

In my 2014 music predictions column, I joked that at some point in the year, a recording of Bruce Springsteen defecating would surface somewhere on the internet, and that Rolling Stone magazine would be promptly give it a glowing 5-star review. Well, there's already a new Springsteen album out, and wouldn't you know it, the folks at RS absolutely loved it. It only 4.5 stars instead of the usual 5, but the message of "OMG SPRINGSTEEN IS A GENIUS! came through just as loudly as ever. The folks at RS have nothing but love in their hearts for the Boss's music, and anything he does is guaranteed a glowing review. At this point I have to wonder, could all this praise from the same magazine, over and over again actually be hurting Springsteen's rep more than it helps?

Just to be clear, I actually like the new Springsteen album quite a bit. After picking up my copy of High Hopes, I promptly listened to it three times, and plan to give it many more spins in the ensuing week. But when I heard RS had raved about the album, it had no effect on my desire to buy the album whatsoever. After giving Springsteen so many positive reviews, their critiques of his work have no authority anymore. The rave write-ups seem like rubber stamps, and they're becoming easier and easier to tune out. While I thoroughly disagreed with Pitchfork's trashing of the album, I felt assured that it represented the writer's true opinions. I no longer have the same confidence when reading a Rolling Stone review of a Springsteen album.

Now, the obvious retort to this is "but what if the RS reviewers genuinely liked all of those albums?" Hey look, I'm a pretty big Springsteen fanboy, and in general, my thoughts on his albums aren't too far off from what the RS reviewer (usually David Fricke) has to say. The only review I thought they were way off on was 2009's Working On A Dream, which was inexplicably given five stars when it's probably a 3.5 star album, 4 if I'm feeling extremely generous.

The problem is, Springsteen is the only artist who is put on a pedestal like this. usually, its generally impossible to get a five star review in RS (their top two albums of 2013, Vampire Weekend's Modern Vampires Of The City and Kanye West's Yeezus, both received 4.5 stars), and yet four of Springsteen's last six albums of original material have received five stars, while the other two were awarded 4.5. Springsteen is the only artist who is treated this kindly - even Bob Dylan, who also often receives excessive praise from RS, was given a mere 4 stars for 2009's Together Through Life. Even if they were still praising Dylan, they were at least willing to, you know, criticize him a little bit. They haven't done that with Springsteen since Human Touch and Lucky Town.

Even if David Fricke and the RS crew genuinely do love every late-period Springsteen release, it's hard not to have a bad taste in your mouth when you remember that they're never this generous with younger artists. Why not give Vampire Weekend's excellent album that extra star? Or why not bestow the honor upon a breakout record like Frank Ocean's Channel Orange or Kendrick Lamar's good kid, M.A.A.D. City? If you're going to have a five-star review, why only make it attainable for artists over 60? I mean, think of how meaningless The Source's XXL rating would become if they only gave it to veterans like Jay-Z and Nas. Often times, the five-star Springsteen review doesn't ring true. It feels like a lifetime achievement award (or six lifetime achievement awards), rather than a genuine assessment of his work. There seems to be this idea that the younger bands have to "earn" that coveted five-star mark, but the fact is, they're earning it with the work they're doing now, and giving them obligatory five-star reviews for lesser works they make later on will only start the cycle again.

I'm a huge fan of Springsteen's music, and I think his late-period work is quite good, but when a magazine goes through six straight albums of a given artist without offering any negative critique whatsoever, it's hard to take them seriously. The propping up of old dudes while being stingy with stars for younger artists exacerbates the problem. When there's a new Springsteen album, I know Rolling Stone will give it either 4.5 or 5 stars, regardless of whether it actually deserves it. On the other hand, if a younger artist is getting talked up by blogs, and reaching on Best New Music status on Pitchfork, I know RS will give them an obligatory 3.5 star review, just to let us know they're aware of all that Young People Music. Even as one of The Boss's biggest fans, Rolling Stone's act is getting predictable, and for a magazine that desperately wants to remain relevant, their credibility is fading fast.

Bruce Springsteen's late-period has yielded some of the best work of his career, with 2012's Wrecking Ball in particular acting of a fine representation of what he's still capable of. Earlier this week, he announced the follow-up, High Hopes, which will be released in January. This album feels like it will be a bit of an oddball in his discography. Rather than another album of new original material, Bruce has gone for a mix of covers, and new versions of old songs that have been overlooked over the years.

The first track to be released was a stark, intense cover of Suicide's "Dream Baby Dream," while this week, the title track, a remake of a song from his lesser-know EP Blood Brothers made the rounds. This one represented Bruce's more rollicking side, but also contained the legendary fury of his live performances. The performance was raw, and gave the impression that the album as a whole could take a an angry, political tone (Tom Morello's involvement also gives that indication). In any case, while the concept for the album is a bit surprising, the first two tracks have eased any fears I may have had about this record. The Boss's winning streak will almost certainly continue.

After starting a nationwide controversy by putting alleged Boston bomber Dzokhar Tsaernaev on the cover, Rolling Stone played it considerably safer with the follow-up issue, going with one of the most American Americans of all-time, Bruce Springsteen. The reason for his appearance on the cover - ostensibly, at least - was because he came in at #1 on the magazine's list of the 50 best live acts currently touring. The list was a more-or-less agreeable mixture of acts old and new from a diverse set of genres and while I may have had a few beefs with it (no Flaming Lips?!), as someone who has had the distinct pleasure of seeing The Boss live, I can happily tell you they didn't screw up the top spot.

I saw Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band on November 22, 2009 at HSBC Arena. It was the final show of the Working On A Dream Tour, and the last show Clarence Clemons would ever play with the band. It was by far the best show I've ever seen. During those three and a half hours, we were blown away by the endless amount of energy and soul that one man was capable of delivering. But saying that a Springsteen show is a religious experience is hardly an original statement, however true it may be. So, let's talk about something different: what makes a live act a transcendent experience.

In the case of Springsteen, it was many things. Singing along to all of the songs I know by heart was fun, but it was the force behind those songs that made it more than a by the book greatest hits affair. The appearance of several obscure cuts and covers didn't hurt either.

At times, the "Greatest Hits" concert can be fun, even if it's predictable. When I saw Alice Cooper at Darien Lake last summer, he played a set heavy on songs I was already quite familiar with, and that was just fine. In that setting, hearing the songs - as well as the special effects - we're all familiar with was a great experience because it allowed me and everyone else in the crowd the experience of seeing a quintessential Alice Cooper Show.

On the other hand, a show can also be special because of the lack of popular songs. I've discussed this before when Tom Petty made the choice to break out the deep cuts on his latest tour. The first time you see a beloved act, you might crave the greatest hits package, since those are the songs that likely introduced you to the band's music, but the second time around it gets predictable. Anyone who truly cares about a band or musician has deep cuts by that act that rank among their most treasured songs, and hearing them in concert - especially when you don't expect to - can be a truly marvelous experience.

Sometimes, it's not the set list that matters, so much as the effort that goes into bringing it to life. I'd be lying if I claimed to hold the same reverence for Dave Matthews that his most hardcore fans do, but I can certainly understand why his live shows have such a wide appeal. Hearing completely different versions of the songs you've come to know and love stretch on into euphoric jams would obviously be a great experience if you happen to be into that sort of thing. There are so many bands that thrive in the live setting but struggle to capture the same vibe in the studio to the point where you pretty much have to seem them live to get a true understanding what they are capable of.

If Springsteen is the best show I've ever seen, #2 would probably be Adrian Belew's gig at the Tralf in October 2011. His expert guitar playing, as well as the amazing groove he and his band mates were able to capture blew me away. A lot of times, virtuosity like that is hard to appreciate when listening to a studio recording. That's why acts like Joe Bonamassa and Robert Randolph tend to be better in concert than in the studio. To watch a virtuoso in motion is just more electrifying and exciting that simply listening to a guitar solo on record, regardless of how much expert playing might be going into that solo. It's just the magic of being there.

A great concert can be great for any number of reasons. Maybe it's because the band brought out one of your personal favorites that you don't get to hear much. Maybe they went into a 20-minute jam that you'll be telling your grandchildren about. In any case, the thrill of live music comes in many forms, and it's safe to say, it will outlast all of us.

If you read my top 10 albums of 2012 list, you know that I was quite a fan of Bruce Springsteen's Wrecking Ball. I had it at #2, and I praised both Springsteen's vitriolic lyrics, and his strong sense of melody, which lead to, in my opinion, one of the best albums he's ever made.

Of course, I wasn't the only one who enjoyed the record. It topped Rolling Stone's list, which for many was just another nail in the coffin of one of music's oldest magazines. Springsteen's album was great, but it probably seemed all-too-typical for RS to give the top prize to a guy in his 60s, rather than a cutting edge artist. Unfortunately for Springsteen (and for RS), the honor seemed to say more about how out-of-touch Rolling Stone is than what a wonderful album Wrecking Ball is.


That may have been the inspiration for a recent post on the blog Lawyers, Guns, And Money entitled "Against Springsteen." The article seems to make the point that Rolling Stone only gave Springsteen the album of the year honor because the liberal platitudes he touches on in Wrecking Ball match with the editors' own views, and that Springsteen's work has declined considerably over the years, with his new political screeds lacking the punch of his 70s and 80s work.

This was an interesting argument, and the article is very well-written, but the basis for its argument is rather short-sighted. The author simply compares two new Springsteen songs to one older one. He seems to think that the anti-rich rhetoric on "Shackled And Drawn," and "We Take Care Of Our Own" is too empty and hollow compared to the complexities of Springsteen's classic 1980 single "The River." To be sure, "The River" is one of Springsteen's best songs. The tale of a young coupled doomed a miserable, disappointing working class life after an unplanned pregnancy is powerful, and one of his meditations on how people can become victims of circumstance.

With that said, I think the new ones hold up to the classics pretty well. To make his argument, the author cherry picks individual lyrics from songs, while not saying much about the complete picture. Sure, a line like "we needed help, the cavalry stayed home" doesn't seem particularly powerful taken by itself, but when part of a larger argument about America's lack of compassion for its poorest citizens, it packs quite a punch. When Springsteen sings "where's the promise from see to shining sea" towards the end of "We Take Care Of Our Own," it's hard to not feel something.


In praising "The River," the author dissects each individual line, praising the brilliance of them all, and giving a fairly comprehensive overview of the song. When talking about the new tunes, he simply states the lyrics he doesn't like, and avoids talking about the rest. The thing is, these songs are just as deep as "The River" (no pun intended). He dislikes the new ones for stating a political view explicitly, while "The River" simply described a difficult situation caused by a flawed economy created by corporate greed.

 He states that "The River" is a superior song because it simply gives you the situation, and allows you to draw your own conclusions about whose fault it is. This is a reasonable argument, but I think the reason for this change is not the decline in Springsteen's lyrics, but rather, the decline of the American political system. There have always been politicians who didn't care about the poor, but they have never been so naked in their contempt as they are today. The glad handing and backscratching on Capitol Hill is much easier to see than it was in 1980, partly because of the internet and the 24-hour news cycle, but also because many in power just don't care who knows how they really feel. This shift has lead to a shift in Springsteen's tone. Rather than simply mourn the plight of the poor, he's unafraid to point fingers at the greed and corruption responsible for their circumstance. It's not hard to see why he went this way; there's no need to remind us how many people are struggling to get by when the number of people in that position goes up every year.

Springsteen still represents the working man, but it's a different kind of working man; one who watches the news, reads the paper, and is more familiar with the corrupt politicians who claim to offer help, only to stab them further in the back. Springsteen's lyrics are as vital as ever, and at a time when greed is rampant, he rightfully puts the bastards responsible for it in their place. Springsteen didn't get worse; America did, and it's not his fault that his lyrics reflect that.

Yes, Buffalo is indeed Springsteen Country, and that was once again confirmed as 97 Rock announced this morning that Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band will be playing the First Niagara Center Friday, April 13th on their first tour since the passing of Clarence Clemmons. Tickets go on sale Saturday January 28th and are very nicely priced on this tour at $38.50, $70.50, and $100.50. The Boss knows there's a down economy on out there, and he feels your pain. OK, yes, he's made a lot of money over the years, but still, those prices are mighty nice, especially if there's a fall leg of the tour and a show in Rochester for Springsteen double duty.


I wanted to make a crack about hipsters craving authenticity while noting  the Springsteen coverage in Pitchfork, but I will refrain. In any case, Wrecking Ball, out March 6th, looks like the real deal as illustrated by the first single "We Take Care of Our Own."




From their last appearance in Buffalo at the HSBC November 22, 2009:




Tickets go on sale Saturday at 11 AM.