Bruce Springsteen's name has become synonymous with proof of the American dream, his image often drenched in the all too saturated and artificial red, white, and blue, embellished with stars and stripes not only never asked for but never earned - a poetic coincidence to mark a poetic man.
40 years ago today, Bruce Springsteen would release one of the most misunderstood pieces of rock music and culture at large, changing the world around him more than any kid from New Jersey could ever dream of. The album in question? His chart topping, career-defining magnum-opus, one that placed the man well into a decade into his career at the center of the world, one where he became the biggest rock star to grace the planet and a marker for what can and what should be: Born in the U.S.A.
To really understand the irony dipped within the piece is to understand the irony of most of iconography tacked upon Bruce Springsteen, something that his fellow New Jersey native would sum up within the line “people hear without listening”. It was in his early days, at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park, that his nickname “the Boss” would appear, thrust upon him because of his insistence to evenly distribute the paycheck amongst his band. Springsteen claims to hate the name, because he “hates bosses”, but when has that stopped the moniker from taking on its own life? It’s similar how his critiques of the American dream are misconstrued for patriotism, or how his status of being the manly man is put upon him by people who don’t understand that toxic masculinity is not how the man has ever rolled. So what about Bruce Springsteen’s image is correct? That he’s a poet, that he understands the ins and outs of America better than most, that he is one of the truest definitions of a rockstar could be, not because he can play a mean guitar or blow the roof off of the countless stadiums he could sell out but because he is a figure of rebellion so good at his job he was able to change the thinking of people who would never look twice at him if he didn’t have legions of fans behind him.
Springsteen at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park, NJ, around 1975.
Born in the U.S.A. is the poor man’s Nebraska. Nebraska is the darker sister of the two albums, a piece that’s existence helped breed the same ideas found within the more famous of the two albums. Following the turning points of common folk of America, Nebraska lived as a demo in Springsteen’s pocket until it's 1982 release. Springsteen is the only musician on the album, it’s an intimate, gritty, uncomfortable listen. It places the listener in this world they may never really be in with its world building and atmospheric ways, growing over time into an experience that never leaves the way the memories of a trip never would. At the time, Springsteen still had yet to become a household name like the heroes he’d quote as his inspirations, whose influences seeped through each song he wrote. It was once it seemed the rock world had pivoted the furthest away it could from the music Springsteen was so vital in keeping alive that he would meet his greatest success with Born in the U.S.A.
The title track was written for Nebraska originally, and that's the fact that helps link the two albums inescapably. The rhythmic opening drum beats and synthy feel set a stage for what now sounds like the idealized patriotism, Springsteen cuts in shortly with his opening lines Born down in a dead man’s town / The first kick I took was when I hit the ground / You end up like a dog that’s been beat too much / Till you spend half your life just covering up / I was born in the U.S.A. For most, a glimpse at the cover, a glance at Springsteen, and the preconceived notion that he was nothing more than a full-blooded American man hellbent on bringing back the long lost ideals of the 1950s, these lines cease to exist. Why listen to his verses when you can scream his chorus? I got in a little hometown jam / So they put a rifle in my hands / Sent me off to a foreign land. There’s something interesting about Springsteen’s protest opening the album, that being it works as an opener to whoever is listening with whatever lens. If you go in, understanding Springsteen you see it as another great example of his clever and direct critiques of his country from his status as the normal guy next door who just happens to have a record deal. If you go in expecting a patriotic declaration of privilege, you can certainly find it if you’re an expert at reading between the lines or not reading at all. Conservative writer George Will said in 1984 of Springsteen, "I
have not got a clue about Springsteen's politics, if any, but flags get waved at his concerts while he sings songs about hard times. He is no whiner, and the recitation of closed factories and other problems always seems punctuated by a grand, cheerful affirmation: 'Born in the U.S.A.!'" Only a few short months later Ronald Reagan would begin to use the song for his campaign, stating in a speech: “America's future rests in a thousand dreams inside your hearts; it rests in the message of hope in songs so many young Americans admire [like those from] New Jersey's own Bruce Springsteen.” If one thing was obvious it was that most of the people who walked away from the song, or album at large, with the idea that Springsteen was praising the his country they clearly weren’t listening to a single word he was saying. That any man who would praise a country would never write the line I’m ten years burning down the road / Nowhere to run ain’t got nowhere to go while talking of the last major divide between the elders and youth of America. Vietnam was the jumping off point of the album and its’ description of it’s world, it was then and remains one of the biggest divides in recent history. Springsteen responded to these interpretations of his music, music so openly critical of most conservative agendas by often asking if they listened to his music, if his lyrics were ones they’d want to endorse so openly. Will and Reagen didn’t seem to understand that the flags waved for and universal adoration of Springsteen rested with his honesty about the country, that he was a figure people could trust and wasn’t going to pull the hood over their eyes, relate to them only to become unrecognizable only months later. Backed more than any political candidate because he wasn’t attempting to sell a false idea, quintessential Springsteen.Cover Me is short - only 17 lines in the whole song. Originally written for Donna Summer, the song has a distinctly 80s sound while still connecting to that portion of the old rock and roll sensibilities commonly found in Springsteen's work. The song follows this idea of protection found in much of his work, that running away with the one will make at least two lives easier. This whole world is out there just trying to score / I’ve seen enough I don’t want to see any more is much more inline with this protest-esque work with the rest of the album, that at the ripe age of 35 most wouldn’t want to see what else the world could hurl, that living through the unrest of a world that doesn't care about the effects of it’s actions on those in it is not a task for the weak. That even the strongest will stumble within its impossible maze.
Speaking of the 50s rock and roll sensibilities of the E-Street band’s sound, be that the jangly keyboards, driving sax, or quick and simple guitar riffs, they give the music this certain sepia-toned nostalgia. There’s an idealized 1950s America that most point toward as the peak of culture for the country, before the Kennedy assassination, before America’s involvement in Vietnam, before the British Invasion, before the introduction of sub-genre or the liberated youth at large. The look and sounds of that time are often used to show contrast of how unrealistic it all is. Take that in Back to the Future or maybe even more famously by Springsteen in most all that he does. Darlington County paints a picture of what some would find idealistic: two wealthy guys picking up chicks, only to be undercut in it’s last verse with My eyes seen the glory of the coming of the Lord / Driving out of Darlington County / Seen Wayne handcuffed to the bumper of a state trooper’s Ford. That, cut with that Honky Tonk Women- esque cowbell and riff? It’s ingenious. Call backs that make the realism within the lyrics hard to focus on, similar to how often the less desirable aspects of the world are hidden, pushed away, or wrapped in a distinctly red, white, and blue package before being shared to the masses. Working on the Highway starts with a Great Balls of Fire sound, down to the original yelp of the first words. The working title was Child Bride, the song about a worker who falls for a young girl before her brothers lock him up in prison. Son, she’s just a little girl / She doesn’t know anything about this cruel, cruel world. Once more, the mask within the classic sounds of fifties Americana lends itself to the meaning within the song. Of all oldie rock to pick for a song about child brides, why wouldn’t Springsteen pick to emulate the sound of a man who married his 13 year old cousin? Similar to how if he were to call back to any opening riff for a song about cheekily alluded to sex, why wouldn’t he pick one of the bands that invented modern groupie culture? For similar reasons, Downbound Train echoes the name of Chuck Berry classic, using that same atmospheric opening inspired by one of Berry’s most devout followers, and a lyric that can be mistaken for no one but Springsteen himself. It’s layered, everything about the album feels almost tailor made to be dissected, influences going back further and more intertwined than its legacy would ever allude to. There’s something irreplicable about what Springsteen did on this album, making one of the greatest assets in the discussion of lack of lyrical analysis within rock music. More than that, it made a hit album out of ideas and concepts that would have never otherwise made it to the mainstream, its bred discussion on concepts of patriotism, idealism, shifts in culture, and examined the power of inspiration and influence within music, at how powerful a defining sound can be in informing the public of the time, place, and ideas they represent.
There’s nothing much to add about I’m on Fire except the fact it’s one of the greatest songs of all time. Rockabilly background, sexually frustrated lyrics, and an atmosphere unlike any other, and unfortunately short. No Surrender bridges the two main themes brought upon through the rest of the album so far, the revolutionary impact of classic songs on the psyche and the classic longing present on the rest of the album. Now young faces grow sad and old and hearts of fire grow cold / We swore blood brothers against the wind / I’m ready to grow young again matched within the second line We learned more from a three minute record than we ever learned in school with the added use of the soldier motif touches on everything Springsteen has spoken to this point. It’s undeniably hopeful compared to the rest of the album, admitting these large roadblocks between them and their American dream but the only response fit to give them is a promise not to surrender to them. Bobby Jean is a goodbye to an unspecified person, but a person who acted as the narrator's one
true other half: Now we went walking in the rain talking about the pain from the world we hid / Now there ain’t nobody nowhere nohow gonna ever understand me the way you did. It’s not a sad song for a goodbye, written in the style of an old fifties dance style, acting as a bridge between the young and old, a letter to one who understood the off center world they grew up in. People theorize the song to be about Bruce himself, others to Steven Van Zandt who was leaving the E-Street band around the time of its writing, and others fall into the camp of it being a made up piece. I’m Goin’ Down was [unsurprisingly] written during the Nebraska sessions as well following a down on his luck man stuck in an unfulfilling relationship, You used to love to drive me wild / But lately girl you get your kicks from just driving me down. There’s a lot of grief within the song, it’s a certain frustration that seeps through despite the country-tinged flavors that back it. It’s a song that warrants a lot of analysis within many contexts, be that feminist, sexual, western. It, for its short run time and straight forward lyrics, paints a vivid picture with characters that can be psychoanalyzed, that can slowly reveal truths about certain social and cultural aspects of what is marketed about western romance in relationships. Now I think I’m going down to the well tonight and I’m going to drink till I get my fill / And I hope when I get old I don’t sit around thinking about it but I probably will / Yeah, just sitting back trying to recapture a little of the glory of, well time slips away and leaves you with nothing mister but boring stories of glory days is the last verse of the fifth charting single from the album, Glory Days. The song follows three characters who are trapped by their teenage selves, that after being fed the idea youth is the peak of what life has to offer, begin to become trapped in their titular glory days. The song, despite its
innocent delivery and unassuming video, is an examination of the fascination and ultimate
idealization of youth within American culture, that once the ripe age of 30 one's life is over. The narrator grapples with the idea that his youth isn’t all his life is meant to be, but the fear sets in still seeing those around him suffer that fate. The baseball imagery associated with the song lends it to an even more American aesthetic, as most peoples recollection of the song goes no further than its mentions of baseball in the first verse or cameo of Greig Nettles in the video. The following song, Springsteen’s biggest hit, and one of the most enduring pop hits of the 1980s at large was only added to the album as it was believed the album didn’t have any single material beforehand [despite 7 of 12 songs charting]. Springsteen wrote his hit in one day, writing about his own frustrations and isolation, the song being Dancing in the Dark. You sit around getting older, there’s a joke here somewhere and it’s on me / I’ll shake this world off my shoulders, come on the laugh’s on me, They say you gotta stay hungry / I’m just about starving tonight, I take a look in the mirror / I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face / Man, I ain’t getting nowhere are all lines found in his chart topping song, all lines that attest to the pressure he was under, that others could probably relate too with their indirect references to disillusionment that could be universal to anyone who could feel that way. While most of the the verses of the song aren’t light, it’s the pre-choruses that are actually positive, be that one of these three variations of the same line: You can’t start a fire without a spark / You can’t start a fire sittin’ around cryin’ over a broken heart / You can’t start a fire worryin’ about your little world fallin’ apart. The song doesn’t talk down nor dance around itself, and has proved to be one of the most enduring songs in a catalog full of enduring songs, released in the decade, a year, full of songs that are considered some of the best of the best in each discography, genre, or year they hail from. The album concludes with seventh and final charting single it produced, My Hometown. A story song about narrator’s hometown, the one his father looks over proudly, the narrator himself sees become a breeding ground for violence, racial inequality, and suffers an economic depression. It’s a somber piece, one that admits to the origin of some of the red in the red, white, and blue that Springsteen would soon become the spokesman of.
For all Born in the U.S.A. did for those who would listen, it almost did more for those who didn’t. Springsteen was platformed by people who, if they ever cared about him or his work, would not have given him even more leverage than he had already grasped. More than anyone before, Springsteen was able to unite people with his music, so much so that he's been written into hundreds of thousands of New Jersey ballots for decades. Where he differs from with the politicians that tried to buddy up with him is the fact he understand America, and all the ins and outs that go into living in “the greatest country in the world”. For all those who attempt to erase history, to erase the small towns, the erase the effects of war, poverty, popular culture, or the pain of being part of the youth in America, they stand a platform much smaller than Bruce Springsteen. They stand on a platform much smaller, with less reach. It was 40 years ago the Bruce Springsteen first screamed into his microphone that he was Born in the U.S.A., and 40 years later he has to slowly sing the words out, in hopes he can pierce through the thick skulls of those who once claimed to listen to him but who found it hard to believe in a less fortunate world the second success and power seeped into their lives. For all things change, the more they stay the same.
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