Dreams and the Like

The morning that began "Winter Storm 2009" I fixed breakfast alongside Tammy and listened for the first time to Bruce Springsteen's Working on a Dream album. I had read through the lyrics sheet when I had arrived home the night before, an uncharactaristic move for me prior to listening. However, I had stayed up until midnight (quite an experience for me these days) to purchase the album and drive home in one hell of a sleet storm to assure I would have it during what I predicted to be multiple days of being homebound. I've been meaning to write about the album ever since.

Many longtime Springsteen fans have had a reaction that can be best described as tepid to the new album. I think I've finally figured out the reason. Bruce, probably more so than any other artist recording today has mastered tying an album around a concept. Up until Working on a Dream, fans had been spoiled with album-long novellas chornicling the need for liberation, the burden of liberation, the Reagan 80's (twice!), he breakdown of false love, the solidarity of true love (or as true as it gets), the plight of the downtrodden in an increasingly affluent nation, 9-11, and The Bush Administration, to name most of the concepts. Springsteen fans seem as likely to be literature fans as music fans. And that's where Bruce throws something of a curveball.

Working on a Dream is still based around a concept, but it's much more of an aural concept than a lyrical one. Hell, Good Eye has three whole verses (and calling them verses is pushing it). But the song is a rollicking good time. WoaD communicates much of the same positive vibe as Lucky Town. But Bruce does so by playing with a happy sound, instead of just happy lyrics. A certain loose playfulness is reflected throughout the disc. Admittedly, the lyrics are some of his simplest, but that's part of the point. (Ironically, many of the Springsteen mega-fans hype up "The Wrestler" as God's gift to songwriting, but the lyrics are no more striking than many of the other songs). A quick blow-by-blow:

Outlaw Pete: Admittedly, I still don't get this one yet. It's been very hard for me to chomp off 8 minutes of attention to dedicate the listening that it needs.

My Lucky Day: A pretty basic fast-paced Bruce single. Solid, but nothing outstanding.

Working on a Dream: A much more bold statement than the preceding song. That's probably the reason why the album is named for it and not the former. I can actually feel myself looking forward to this song. The album as an analogy for life. The point is in the Working, not the final product. Perhaps I'm reading too much in, but I think Bruce wanted to communicate a less polished feel to this album. Less slick, not as coherent. All we can really do is work on the dream. Will we ever achieve it? The working is the achievement.

Queen of the Supermarket: I could write a blog on this song alone (and have considered it). Possibly the high point of entire album, a simple story of love from a distance. But for those of us that have experienced this, the best presentation of it I've seen. The song is quinessentially Bruce (lyrical longing, regret, appreciation), just set in the mundane suburbanite setting. Even the f-bomb at the end is not only appropriate but necessary. A matter-of-fact delivery is elevated by the power of the word to match the music in the background. A wow moment. And I could go on...

What Love Can Do: Pretty basic Bruce stuff again. I might be more appreciative of this song if it didn't follow Queen of the Supermarket. However, in it's current spot, it just seems like a digression. It does serve as a fast-paced bridge to the next track, though

This Life: This track channels Roy Orbison unlike anything I've ever heard in Bruce's catalog. Needless to say, I love it.

Good Eye: The rollicking blues number mentioned above. Probably the best evidence of the underlying point of the album.

Tomorrow Never Knows: Warm and fuzzy Bruce? So you have it. The use of trumpet in the background is especailly nice. Nostalgic, airy, a bit light in the lyric. But a great contrast to the previous track

Life Itself: By far the best of the "Bruce" songs on the album (in other words, those that would fit in on almost any of his albums). He knocks this on out of the park.

Kingdom of Days: A valentine of a song. Bruce at the happiest I've heard him...ever. But not sappy. Just gleeful. The lyric says a bit. the music says more. His voice, however, says volumes about the level of contentment he's found in life.

Surprise, Surprise: Gleeful to the point of being silly. But an appropriate follow-up to the track before (and certainly a great anti-setup to The Last Carnival). I hear a lot of early Beetles influence in this one.

The Last Carnival: The tribute to Danny is poignant and appropriately literary. the fact that it's a de facto tribute to Wild Billy's Circus Story is off-the-wall brilliant. The ending bugged me a little at first, but I've since come to reconcicle with it. One of the disc's best.

The Wrestler: The writing is a bit basic, but the performance is the low-key, desperate, and fading setting the song screams for.

In short, Bruce has finally recorded a disc that's for popping open a bottle of wine, cranking up the stereo and taking an emotional adventure with the brain OFF. No need for the head in this one. The music points the way. Let the mind sink into the heart and lose yourself in it.

Of course, that's against everything Bruce stands for, right? He's the thinking, songwriting Dylan-in-waiting, right?

Meet Bruce the musicianm Bruce the composer, Bruce the charmer.