Bruce Springsteen
Born In The U.S.A.
»
![]()
Bruce Springsteen
Born In The U.S.A.
Columbia, 1984
RiYL: John Mellencamp, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty |
Recorded on a Tascam four-track in Springsteen's bedroom, and originally intended to be just a demo of new material, Nebraska is everything Born In The U.S.A. is not: understated, literary, dark, intimate, undercalculated and underproduced. And strangely enough, the original version of "Born In The U.S.A." has the same no frills vibe. It lacks the anthemic nature, the epic scope, the Top-Ten-hit feel of the "Born In The U.S.A." played stadiums across the world in the mid-80s. Here the song works on a smaller scale. The listener just hears Bruce alone in a dark place. No chiming keyboards, no pounding drums, no stormy five-minute electric guitar solo.
He sings the song's lyrics breathlessly over his acoustic guitar, the words delivered as a blues dirge, their sad meaning crystal clear:
"I'm ten years, burning down the road," he sings. "I've got nowhere to run. I got nowhere to go."
Naturally, the song possesses the same production values and literary qualities as the rest of the material on Nebraska. But more importantly, "Born In The U.S.A." perfectly reflects the fragile emotional center of the album. Its story, its complicated meaning, its serious exploration of a life on the edge of American society. One could make a very compelling argument that Nebraska should have been named Born In The U.S.A.. It just fits that well.
But Springsteen didn't really consider Nebraska an album. He released it without hardly any embellisment or elaboration -- an uncharacteristic move for the Boss -- and held back just a few songs, including "Born In The U.S.A.," for further experimentation. In his notes to his manager, he said he wanted to flesh out "Born In The U.S.A." with the full band. He wanted "to rock this one out."
With more than just a few years hindsight, its plainly obvious this was a mistake. The song wasn't just perfectly suited for Nebraska it was horribly out of place on Born In The U.S.A.. In fact, this misplacement of "Born In The U.S.A." is without question the biggest mistake of Springsteen's career. The decision not only perverted the meaning of the song itself but it undermined the spirit of the entire album and ultimately compromised his integrity of this great artist.
Now, let's be clear: No one can argue the full-band version of "Born In The U.S.A." is without merit. Bruce belts out the same words and his emotion is no less tangible; his scream toward the end of the song is one of rock history's most heart-wrenching, most haunting cries. The instrumentation, while dated, is also powerful, the lyrics equally strong. But certain things get lost in this amped-up, over produced version, and the listener gets lost in the emotion and electricity. Ultimately the meaning of Bruce's singing and screaming, as well as the potent story told in these beautiful lyrics, become estranged.
The meaning becomes further obscured when the song is placed among the middle-of-the-road pop that dominates Born In The U.S.A.. It’s unfair and dishonest to say this record was created for the sole purpose of making Springsteen into an international superstar. There's a lot of care and artistry put into these 12 songs (as well as the other 50+ songs that he wrote, recorded and considered for inclusion). Still the singer clearly sought mass appeal. In fact, the album’s highest-charting song, "Dancing In The Dark," was written at the insistence of Springsteen’s manager Jon Landau, who kept telling Bruce, "I just don’t hear a hit."
Springsteen wanted a hit and he went home and he wrote one. As it turns out he had already written six -- for a grand total of seven Top 10 singles. And then he performed in four MTV videos, which were played relentlessly on the blossoming station's airwaves. And then he packed hundreds of stadiums around the world with thousands of screaming fans -- teenagers who had heard the singles, seen the videos, bought the album, poster and t-shirt and waited out in the hot and cold, rain and snow for days and nights to get seats to his three-hour shows.
And when he came on stage, he opened with "Born In The U.S.A.," performed it in front of a 50-foot flag. Belted out its lyrics before umpteen misinformed, misled fans who sang the chorus while waving a flag of their own.
Now, decades later, its still hard for me or anyone to judge this album’s artistic merit without first considering the context of its popular enormity and its strange and dark relationship with the title track's obscured meaning. How can anyone ignore the flag-waving fervor that surrounded this guy for more than two years when trying to figure out what this album is all about?
Well let's just try for a moment. For just one second, let's ignore the title song and cover art and look under the hood to see what else we have here. First, we discover the six-other aformentioned hit singles -- "Dancing In The Dark," "Glory Days" "I'm On Fire," "Cover Me," "I'm Goin Down," and "My Hometown." Taken on their own, these songs work the way Madonna's "Get Into The Groove," Michael Jackson's "Beat It," or Prince's "Little Red Corvette" work. They are classic rock. For the most part, they lack the personal intensity that defines most of Springsteen's work, but it doesn't really matter. All of these songs are nostalgic trips, and a few of them are near perfect pop.
Beyond these hits, we find a few "forgotten" classics ("Bobby Jean," "No Surrender," "Downbound Train") and just a couple of so-so songs ("Darlington County" and "Working On The Highway"). The duds don't do much to tarnish the album's poppy shine, however, since each is pretty effective as a happy-go-lucky pop song. Likewise, those aforementioned "forgotten" classics might be the best three songs on the album; "Downbound Train" is without question the best song here, and it's brilliance only seems to grow with age.
So there is really no denying this album's incredible pop punch. And had Springsteen saved "Born in the USA" for another album, he would have he had literally 50+ other songs from the Born In The USA recording sessions from which to choose its replacement. Many, many of them would have enhanced the album's listenability, as well as its longevity. One listen to the third disc of the artist's collection of unreleased material, Tracks, reveals a handful of obvious alternatives: "My Love Will Not Let You Down," "Frankie," "This Hard Land," "Murder Inc.," and "Janey Don't You Lose Heart" just to name a few.
As a loyal admirer of Bruce Springsteen's work, I can't tell you how frustrating I find this album and the story behind it. Even if Bruce had named the album, Dancing In The Dark, and kept "Born In The U.S.A." for a more apropriate time, this album still wouldn't be his best. But at least it wouldn't have compromised his artistic integrity.
Misunderstood lyrics are a common problem in rock and roll. Just ask the guys who wrote "Louie, Louie." But there's something truly heinous about the misinterpretation of "Born In The U.S.A." Instead of inspiring reflection on an important social problem in America, the song prompted flag waving by teenage fans and jingoistic rhetoric by powerful Republicans. And while you certainly can't blame Bruce Springsteen 100 percent for the misunderstanding, he does hold a certain unmeasurable amount of responsibility to guide his listeners -- to frame his song's message.
In his defense, Springsteen has done a great deal of work to re-frame his audience's understanding of this song. On the Ghost of Tom Joad and E Street Band Reunion tours, for example, Springsteen performed the song as brilliantly as possible, again with just him and a guitar. And he openly discussed the song's misinterpretation, both during those shows and during interviews on national television.
Still, I believe he unintentionally turned his ongoing exploration of hard issues facing Americans into an exploitation of American symbolism and values. He compromised his own reputation as a serious artist.
In effect, he created a monster when he decided to put that song as the opening track of this album. It's a gollum that still haunts him today -- when he releases wonderful songs like "41 Shots," and police officers accuse him of using tragedy to sell concert tickets. Because of Born In The U.S.A., it's to easy for a critical listener to view The Rising as an exploitation of the events of September 11. And that is a tragedy.
Ironically, his most popular work of art, his most obvious achievment, can't be evaluated without confronting that monster. And sadly even his biggest fan can't grant him total amnesty.
Editor's Note: For a second take on this album, read Jeff Vrabel's review of this album here.
BEN FRENCH | Ben founded NATN in the winter of 1998-1999 with fellow IU alums Troy Carpenter and Jonathan Cohen. During the day time, he's working for Nielsen Business Media, publisher of Billboard. Ben's favorite acts include Bruce Springsteen, The Clash, Sonic Youth, Elvis Costello, Talking Heads, Rolling Stones, and the Beach Boys.
