- Joey Clark | Guest Columnist 23 hrs ago
The theme of mortality runs through the new documentary “Road Diary,” about Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band’s 2023 tour.
I caught it in Tulsa and it might be the last time I’ll ever see them. Noticeably older than when I saw them in 2008, they were energetic for senior citizens but still senior citizens. Two of the original band members have already passed. If it was the last time I see Bruce, I’m thankful for the lessons he taught me.
I was six years old the first time I heard “Born to Run” on my dad’s record player. It floored me. The way the snare drum starts it off. The urgency, like it’s about to spin out of control. The way Bruce counts it back in right before “The highway’s jammed with broken heroes.” I was hooked. I had no idea what Springsteen was singing about – I thought he was saying “tramp, slide, dust.” I just knew the song made my heart race, gave me goosebumps and I loved it. Bruce has taught me a lot over the years.
When I was a kid, Springsteen was larger-than-life. He was in his “Born in the USA” muscle bound, bandana phase and one of the biggest stars in music. Like everyone, I listened to “Born in the USA” on repeat, but I also went back and listened to all his music from the 70’s and early 80’s and became a huge fan. When I was in high school in the early 90’s, it wasn’t cool to like Bruce. He was a corny, arena rock boomer in the cynical age of grunge. Like most of his contemporaries, he did not transition well into GenX. I was the only kid I knew that saved a spot in my CD changer for “Lucky Town.”
Springsteen sings a lot about debts that no honest man can pay. Many of these debts cause the losers in his songs to do shady things because they owe money. But many of the debts are existential ones. There is a dissatisfaction in the characters that populate his songs, with their jobs, their country, their girl and their very existence. Sometimes it’s the choices they made and sometimes its circumstances beyond their control, but there is a price to be paid regardless. I’ve felt the restlessness and disillusionment that he sings about. Springsteen has a lot of empathy but not a lot of answers. He knows there’s always winners and losers and don’t get caught on the wrong side of that line. He has political beliefs but seems dubious about the possibility of systemic change. Instead, Springsteen finds healing in music and community. A Springsteen concert is an escape from the bleakness that exists outside the arena. I learned from Bruce, you can’t solve all the world’s problems, but through music you can escape them for a while.
Another common Springsteen theme is generational sin passed from father to son. He had a complicated relationship with his dad, as did I with my alcoholic dad. We bonded over the music of Springsteen when we had nothing else in common. The last cool thing I got to do with my dad before he passed was take him to see The Boss. I took my son a few years later and it got a little dusty during “Independence Day,” a song about fathers and sons. I’ve learned from Springsteen to be careful that your family doesn’t bear the brunt of your restlessness and dissatisfaction and his music has helped me weather the worst of those times.
His best 21st Century album, 2007’s “Magic” is about his blue-collar heroes being used as pawns by the powerful to gain more power – kings aren’t satisfied ‘till they rule everything. On this tour he regularly played from that album “Long Walk Home,” about how our shared values and community are the only things that can save us. He carefully chose songs on this tour about friendship and bonds that are stronger than the fear mongering the powerful uses to divide us. He also regularly played “Land of Hope and Dreams” because he believes in the promise of America, even if we don’t always live up to it. I’ve learned from Springsteen that we can make the world better in the places where it’s in our power to.
There’s a real possibility I’ll never see Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band again. But I learned more from a three-minute record, baby than I ever learned in school.