Bruce Springsteen: Letter To You - 2020

  

For such a legendary band, Bruce Springsteen and The E St. Band (in full attendance) have put out surprisingly few albums and they have often (especially in latter years) been blighted by poor production. Here, thankfully, that is not the case as seventy-something Springsteen joyously leads his seventy-something mates down a little dirt track that has a sign out front sayin’ thunder road to resurrect some ghosts from the past. 

This is not a seaside bar/mean streets Born To Run Bruce album, though, nor a bleak Darkness On The Edge of Town. Its spirit is to be found back in the wordy glory of 1973 (due to the presence of three made-over previously rejected songs), in 1979-80’s The River sessions and in 2008’s Magic. It is an album respectfully lodged in the past and I love it for that - no dabbling in tape loops, ‘beats’ or rap vocal sections, just music that harks back to a more innocent time. Nobody is better qualified to deliver this sort of thing than a great nostalgist like Springsteen. As with all Springsteen albums, however, you just know that the songs will take on a new life when performed live. 

Anyway, shall we get to the music?....

One Minute You’re Here starts in sleepy, croaky, folky and maudlin Springsteen style. It sounds like one of the tracks from CD4 of the Tracks compilation. While it is an atmospheric enough song, there is no E St. Band sound to be found much here until very subtly near the end Roy Bittan’s keyboards arrive, gently. It is certainly a low key, underwhelming opener. I always feel albums should kick off with a corker. This one sits a bit incongruously with many of the tracks that follow it. A bit like I Ain’t Got You on Tunnel Of Love.

Letter To You is more like it as it comes storming in like a Roulette-style reject from The River’s 1980 sessions. It is great to hear Max Weinberg’s rat-a-tat drums and Charlie Giordano evoking the spirit of Danny Federici on organ. There is a bit of a feel of the material from the Magic era too, although, notably, the production is much better. While not a particularly outstanding song, there is a bit near the end where Max kicks back in on the drums that makes me remember that I am listening to the E St. Band. 

Burnin’ Train is a drum rolling, urgent rocker that burns pretty brightly. Check out Springsteen’s guitar solo, the piano and those energetic drums half way through. The band are back in town on this one, for sure. 

Janey Needs A Shooter, as all more than part time Springsteen enthusiasts will know, is a track from way, way back in the early seventies. It is presented here in slow and dignified fashion that evokes the period from between Born To Run and Darkness On The Edge Of Town. It takes me back to the time I got into him myself and while the song is a dense, dark one it just has that sound that made me fall in love with the man’s music. Listening to it now, though, I can still hear why it was rejected by Bruce in the first place. It doesn’t quite have that je ne sais quoi to it that would have earned it a place on Darkness, for example. 

Last Man Standing starts with acoustic strumming before the full band kicks in and it brings back memories of The River sessions and again, the Magic album. Jake Clemons contributes his first saxophone solo, resurrecting his legendary Uncle Clarence’s bullhorn blowing. This is a proper E. St Band track. The title refers to the fact that Springsteen is the only member of his first band, The Castiles, to still be alive. The same applies to the dignified chunky rock of The Power Of Prayer, which also has a lot of the sound of 2008 about it. It features another sax solo and some pounding piano too. Springsteen visits a familiar theme of regular barroom characters and Jake’s saxophone takes us higher, gloriously, particularly at the end. Ben E. King gets a namecheck in the lyrics too. 

These last two tracks, together with House Of A Thousand Guitars, sort of form the album’s E St. cornerstones. On the above-mentioned number, Weinberg’s drums and Bittan’s piano dominate a song that is part ordinary, part hymnal. The repeated chorus is slightly clumsy, though, especially at the end. Incidentally, the song's title is sneakily stolen from Willie Nile's much-better song of the same name. A bit naughty that, Bruce. You have previous for this too - Better Days, Walk Like A Man, Tunnel Of Love, and many more....

Rainmaker is a powerful, muscular slow-pace rock number that I suspect is obliquely referencing some of the obvious frustrations its singer is feeling with his country’s contemporary, depressing situation (in mid-late 2020). 

Now, it is time for the righteous to get on that train, leaving behind the Born In The USA-Greatest Hits hangers-on, as we who have got our long-service tickets head skywards to E St. nirvana. Our faith has been rewarded for sticking it out through Waitin' On A Sunny Day, Outlaw Pete and Queen Of The Supermarket. 

The gargantuan, epic E St. beast of If I Was The Priest is another long-lost outtake from the early seventies given an update. It gets my gnarled old E St. juices flowing and stands as the best track on the album for me. It was apparently the song that earned The Boss his first contract with Colombia records back in 1973. Why it was not included in his first album is beyond me. It is full of religious and Dylanesque/Wild West imagery (plus obligatory harmonica) and my beloved E St. Band cut loose throughout its glorious six minutes plus. It should have closed the album. 

The Mighty Max reminds us why so many love him as he powers the intro to the riffy E Streetery of Ghosts. Again, the band all give it their absolute all, as they always did - like Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers - the honest side of rock. Check out the denouement to the song - E St. Heaven. When you hear it you will know exactly what I mean. I am laid low at the moment with bad arthritis in one of my once talented feet and I swear this is curing me. One dose of E St. every four hours. 

You want some more good medicine? Coming right up with the Blonde On Blonde travels to New Jersey feel of Song For Orphans, which is the last of the three resurrected seventies songs. Let your harmonica and guitar take me higher, Bruce. Tracks like this are the very quintessence of Bruce and his wonderful band. My goodness, I love this. So it is packed to overflowing with verbose "new Dylan-isms" but mister - I don't give a damn. Thinking about it, these three have been even more of an important grouping within the album’s genesis. They form the point when you think ‘this has been  getting better and better’. This is what I wanted. 

The album ends with another bit of Springsteen strumming-driven rock on the typically-titled I’ll See You In My Dreams. It pales slightly simply because of the sheer immensity of the previous three but it is a fine sign-off. 

Nice to have you all back, lads and lasses. We’ve missed you. With a decent production for once, too.