Outlaws and Kids
Posted: April 2nd, 2009 | Filed under: Bruce | 48 Comments »
It is surprisingly hard to find any one statement that, say, 90 percent of people you know would agree with. I could say “Education is good” or “Crime is bad” or “Michael Bolton is criminally awful” or “People should clean up after their dogs,” or “Tivo is a great invention,” or “We should support our troops,” or “We should try to help people,” … and it’s quite likely that I would not get 90 percent support.
Or we can pick something closer to home: I can say that Bert Blyleven belongs in the Hall of Fame, and I’m pretty sure that a supermajority of people who read this would agree with that. This is a very-pro Bert site. But I can tell you based on polls already done that he would not get 90 percent support here among friends.
Why? Well, having heard plenty from those who do not think Blyleven was a Hall of Famer, I would tell you that for most people who do not think Blyleven is a Hall of Famer, it is simply a gut thing, a feeling — they simply do not think Hall of Fame and Blyleven together. There’s a divide there. A few have tried to make half-hearted statistical cases (Blyleven did not win 20 games often enough, he was more of a compiler than dominant pitcher, his winning percentage is not great, etc.), but it’s pretty hard to argue statistics against a guy who is fifth all-time strikeouts, ninth in shutouts, 27th in victories and has a 2.35 career World Series ERA.
So, no, the arguments against Blyleven tend to be more visceral, more about emotion and expectation and what a Hall of Famer means. I won’t lie: It frustrates me. The fact that anyone could believe Jack Morris is a Hall of Famer but not Bert Blyleven remains to me a startling and confusing paradox. That fact that NUMEROUS people believe that makes me wonder if there’s logic in our universe. But that’s the thing about feelings. They are deep, and they are often unreachable with logic, forceful argument or compelling evidence. We don’t see a blue skies. We see skies in the shade of blue that fits our mind.
All of this leads to a single statement that I do believe 90 percent of you would agree with:
Statement: Bruce Springsteen’s “Outlaw Pete” is a dreadful song.
I feel confident that would get 90 percent support (at least). This is because, it seems to me, people on this site would fall into three distinct categories.
1. Rabid Bruce Springsteen fans. I have to believe at least 75% of you would grudgingly admit Outlaw Pete is a dreadful song, especially since — even though this probably has been overplayed — it really does sound like it has a baseline borrowed from KISS.
2. Casual Bruce Springsteen fans. I have to believe that there are more of you than Group 1, and way more than 90 percent of you either think “Outlaw Pete” is a dreadful song or would feel that way if you ever heard it.
3. Decidedly non-Bruce Sprinsteen fans. You are the people who realized three of four paragraphs ago that this is actually a Bruce Springsteen post and immediately stopped reading. That’s OK. I can say with confidence 100% of you would hate Outlaw Pete.
All in all, that has to put us over the 90 percent line.
Outlaw Pete, for those of your in Groups 2 and 3, is an eight-minute long, rock opera-ish song on Springsteen’s new album. The song is about, well, an outlaw, and his name is Pete, and …that’s really all you need to know. The song is so bizarre and wrongheaded and utterly un-Bruce like that many of us of who love Springsteen cannot help but hope that it’s a kind of inside joke he had with his friends.
But now, having seen Springsteen open his new tour in San Jose, I have lost that hope.
I will tell you up front — and if you keep reading, you will see this — I absolutely loved the show. I loved it despite Outlaw Pete and another dreadfully off-key moment when Bruce decided to go “Blues Odyssey” on us. Even with those two horrendous turns, it was one of my five favorite concerts ever.*
*Off the top of my head, I think those are — and I do reserve the right to change this because I have not spent enough time thinking about it:
1. Midnight Oil and company in Atlanta.
2. Bruce Springsteen in Kansas City.
3. Barenaked Ladies in Lawrence, Kan.
4. Frank Sinatra in Atlanta
5. Bruce Springsteen in San Jose.
But the point here is not to review the show but to make two points — one about Outlaw Pete. Bruce came out in San Jose and right away he played what might be the best song he ever wrote — certainly it is up there: Badlands.
For the ones who had a notion, a notion deep inside
The it ain’t no sin to be glad your alive
I want to find one face that ain’t looking through me
I want to find one place, I want to spit in the face of these Badlands
I love that verse. To me, that one verse more or less gets everything that Bruce Springsteen has tried to say, and — I don’t want to go off the deep end — but more or less everything that rock and roll has tried to say. Maybe I did go off the deep end, but I think it’s all there.
And from there, from that classic, he went right into Outlaw Pete. For those of you who want to share in the horror of the song but don’t actually want to listen to it — I don’t blame you. All you need to know is how the song starts:
He was born a little baby on the Appalachian Trail
At six months old he’d done three months in jail
He robbed a bank in his diapers and little bare baby feet
All he said was “Folks, my name is Outlaw Pete.”
There are some bad rhymes in rock — most of them written by Steve Miller. But I find it hard to accept the image of Bruce Springsteen — the man who wrote “For the ones who had a notion, a notion deep inside/that It ain’t no sin to be glad your alive” — sitting at his desk at home and rhyming “little bare baby feet” with “my name is Outlaw Pete.” But, apparently, he did.
The larger point here, though, is not that Bruce WROTE Outlaw Pete — we all have written and said things which seem odd and incongruous and utterly unlike ourselves. No, the larger point is that Bruce LOVES Outlaw Pete. He ADORES it. That’s an even harder thing to accept. Doesn’t he have good friends who can say to him “Hey, Bruce, love ya, you’re a genius, but I’m not getting the whole cowboy thing here” — sort of the way the band members of Styx tried to say to Dennis DeYoung that he might have gone off the tracks with the crazy ”Mr. Roboto“ theme?
No. Like the line from Seinfeld: ”He’s INTO it.“ Bruce led off his new album with the song. And then he played it SECOND on his concert tour, right behind Badlands. And he did not just play it. He PLAYED it. The thing we love about Bruce is that he gives us everything in his shows — he runs out every ground ball, dives for every loose ball, never gives up on a play — and for those of us who love his music this makes his concerts epic and even transcendent.
But that same unrelenting musical will can turn something like Outlaw Pete into a cringing experience. Because Bruce SOLD Outlaw Pete. In the sports cliche, he gave Outlaw Pete 110%. I could never give full voice to the experience of watching that. I can only tell you that there were bright lights, photographs of cacti and desert, a bizarre “move along little doggy” dance and, horrifyingly, a big finish where the spotlight shined on a black cowboy hat.
Later, while singing some sort of blues song called “Good Eye” — another pretty badly misguided song off the new album as far as I’m concerned — he seemed to be trying to suggest that he was a blind blues singer. Anyway that’s what I picked up. I didn’t get it at all.
I feel like I’m only giving you the down parts of the concert, which I do not want to do … the rest of the concert was brilliant in every way, from the best version of “Out in the Streets” I’ve ever heard him do, to incredible versions of “Thunder Road” and “Growing Up,” to a big wave just for me on “Waitin’ on a Sunny Day,” to a haunting “Ghost of Tom Joad,” to sheer perfection on “Born to Run,” and so on. It was a great, great show. But those two lows were really low.
Only, I don’t walk away sad about it. In fact, I find the Outlaw Pete fiasco to be oddly uplifting in a way. It just reminds me again that to be great, really great, you have to put yourself out there with everything you’ve got, all your heart, all your soul. You have to leave behind doubt, you have to put away fear, you have to take the chance. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’ll give them Badlands. Sometimes, if you’re not so lucky, you’ll give them Outlaw Pete. But if you don’t take the chance, if you don’t give yourself up, you won’t give them either one. No, it ain’t no sin to be glad your alive.
The second point is more personal: My buddy Pop Warner, using all the music connections he has, got us amazing seats for the Springsteen show. These seats were SO good, that basically we ended up sitting right by where Bruce’s sons and daughter were standing. I would like to make clear that I am not so intense a Springsteen fan that I would have known they were Bruce’s kids — it’s just that Bruce kept coming to our side of the stage and making faces at them, and at some point during Born to Run, he yelled “Come on Sammy,” to his son Sam, who (and we’re now getting to the point) was watching with the quiet and slightly horrified look of a 14-year-old son watching his father sing old songs, the look I no doubt had at 14 when my father would break into “Wake Up Little Susie” for reasons unknown.
I could not help but keep an eye on his kids to see how they reacted. And, more, I could not help but wonder: What would it be like to the son or daughter of Bruce Springsteen? What would it be like to see the way people genuflect whenever they see him*, to watch grown men and women almost come close to tears when he plays their favorite song, to see the depth of devotion that people have to the guy they just know as “Dad.”
*I’m a big Jon Stewart fan, but I found it hard to watch Stewart interview Springsteen on The Daily Show because he more or less sounded like the Chris Farley character on Saturday Night Live (“Remember that time you sang that song. That was awesome!”). Stewart is from New Jersey, and he no doubt is awed by Springsteen, and he no doubt feels like Bruce played a big role in his career and life. But he went into an extended bit where he thanked Bruce for all he had done, and I really did want to say, “Hey, Jon, it’s OK. You’re a big star too. It’s really OK.”
I, of course, cannot begin to imagine. But I’m embarrassed to say I’ve thought quite a lot about this because, even though I’ve only seen it through my own, pathetically small prism — people do recognize me sometimes. They even ask me for autographs sometimes. More often, they are just very nice, and they come up to me to tell me how much they like the column, the blog, the Soul of Baseball, whatever. And yes, I did go out of my way there just to like to my book. At least I didn’t link to The Machine again. Sheesh.
But, yes, in my own itty-bitty-no-I’m-not-comparing-it-to-Bruce-he’s-one-trillion-times-more-famous way, I have a little fame, and this has often led to complete strangers walking up to talk while I’m with my daughters. The 4-year-old, Katie, has not had any real reaction to it yet, but the 7-year-old, Elizabeth, is actually quite sensitive to the whole thing. We once had a rather lengthy and heartfelt conversation where she told me that nobody out there care about her while I was quite famous. I told her that I was not famous at all, and she said, “People ask you for your AUTOGRAPH. Nobody asks ME for my autograph.”
After a while, because she was six years old at the time, I was able to use some father logic to explain to her that she was actually the famous one, and that people were only asking me about her (which was true in that father logic sort of way). This did appease her. We have since had several less emotional conversations on the topic, and even in my own little insignificant world I suspect that this is a topic that will not disappear entirely.
So imagine the depth of those feelings when they are a billion times more obvious. Of course, there are plusses and minuses of being the child of someone famous — I suspect that the Springsteen kids are doing OK for themselves — and there have been countless books written by sons and daughters of famous people. But I do wonder what it’s like when Dad is Bruce, who draws out such deep emotions in people, whose level of stardom has crossed into legend, who represents something deep to so many, who goes by The Boss.
So, during the concert, I would glance over to see how Bruce’s kids were enjoying the show. There was no way to know, of course. Teenagers are not easy for me to read. They were not singing along or dancing or any of that … but would your kid sing or dance to your music? No, they just stood there, and they watched the show, and occasionally they seemed to be interested by the lighting or by the time Max Weinberg’s drumstick flew out of his hand or with Nils Lofgren’s dancing. They seemed pretty much like other teenagers.
And I suspect they’re working it out fine. A few months ago, some adult at school asked Elizabeth what she thought the Kansas City Chiefs should do. Elizabeth does not care about football, and I suspect she could not name a single player on the Chiefs (in baseball she could, at least, name Brian Bannister on the Royals … though he will be starting the season in Triple-A Omaha). And while she could give you a 30-minute soliloquy about why Gabriella is now her new favorite character in “High School Musical,” and go even longer with knock knock jokes and New York fashions, she could not give you two sentences on the entire genre of sport, not unless you let her talk about what one of the bowlers on ESPN was wearing the other day.
So, it surprised me to hear that Elizabeth told the guy that she knew exactly what the Chiefs should do. She said: “They should get all new players.”
The adults all laughed (apparently … I wasn’t there) then someone asked her, “Is that what you think or is that what your father thinks?” I wish he had not asked her that. But he did, and I suspect it may not be the last time someone asks a question like that, and what Elizabeth said then made me extremely proud.
She said: “That’s what I think. I don’t have a CLUE what my Daddy thinks.”
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You know, I couldn’t take any more references to it, so I went and listened, and I listened for a while, and I was thinking This isn’t so bad, really, not greator anything, but at least bearable — and then I saw I was only a minute and a half into an eight-minute song. There should be a warning on that thing that says “Once you’ve seen that the first six words are ‘He was born a little baby,’ you know all you need to know.”
“She said: “That’s what I think. I don’t have a CLUE what my Daddy thinks.—
That’s because her daddy doesn’t write enough columns for the Star about the Chiefs during the off-season
(Speaking of which, does anyone know what in the world Priest Holmes is up to?)
I am a big Dylan fan, and I think the real head scratchers are kinda entertaining and make the classics harder to take for granted, which is a good thing.
Fame? Pleeeease. You cannot use that word unless you’re scoring backstage passes to The Boss, like Bob Costas. Though you know Bob. Does that put you two degrees from Bruce?
If I ever see Joe on the street, I’ll push him out of the way and ask his daughter for an autograph. You can thank me by posting my bail.
Seeing Bruce Sunday. I’m pumped (despite the fact that I’ll surely be seeing him perform “Outlaw Pete” which does in fact blow, but not as much as “Queen of the Supermarket”–I actually kind of like “Good Eye”, even if it’s not the most lyrically adept song he’s ever written–it’s kind of like a lost Tunnel of Love song to me)!
Leonard Cohen tonight (this is actually the last thing I do before I leave).
Old Man Duggan and I disagree: “Queen of the Supermarket” is OK music with lousy lyrics, while “Outlaw Pete” is entirely made of wrong.
Here’s why Joe is a great writer. I have never understood, and likely will never understand, the Springsteen phenomenon. It’s one of those things I just don’t get, like imaginary numbers, or rap music, or the Royals making Sidney Ponson their fourth starter. So I would never be able to distinguish “Outlaw Pete” from any other interminable Springsteen opus, no matter how maniacally and energetically it’s delivered. Still, I trust that Joe is going to deliver the goods in his columns, so I stuck with this one.
My perseverance was rewarded when Joe made mention of Springsteen needing friends to tell him that the cowboy thing isn’t working, and that immediately struck a chord because that’s a running joke between me and my wife. (I’m responsible for telling her never again to get a perm or cut her hair shorter than shoulder length, and she’s responsible for telling me to get a grip if I ever start sporting a combover, jumpsuits, or shoes with velcro fasteners.) Then Joe struck another one with the Dad-logic references, something I have employed more times than I can count.
In one column, Joe managed to touch on groupthink, the baseball Hall of Fame, Bruce Springsteen, teenage embarrassment, the price of fame, the need for honest friends, and parenting. It gives me the sense that Joe throws himself into his writing like Springsteen throws himself into each live performance, and I guess that’s about the biggest compliment I can give.
You know, given this crowd, an interesting discussion could be had about what the most cringe-worthy songs are for some artists. As Joe says, even the best take chances that don’t work out sometimes — no risk, no reward. In music though, you’ve spent hours in the studio recording, revising these songs, mixing them down… and no one ever says, “Hey, you know what? This blows…”
It’s also interesting that I bet you do get better consensus as to songs that are horrible. People have favorite songs for reasons that are unrelated to the song — I was listening to this when I met my girl — this reminds me of that time I was driving though the mountains, etc… But, crappy songs pretty much go into the “damn I ripped my headphones out so fast I almost pulled my Ipod off the table”.
Some nominations –
The Police — Born In The 50s
The Beatles — Revolution #9
The Who — Squeezebox
R.E.M. — Shiny Happy People (I’ll avoid the cheap “anything after New Adventures In Hi-Fi crack)
It would be remiss of me not to point out that not only do “feet” and “Pete” actually rhyme, but “inside” and “alive” actually… don’t.
That said, that Outlaw Pete lyric is, indeed, awful. But it rhymes!
I’m proud to be part of group #3–the non-Springsteen fans. Forgive me Joe, but I didn’t finish this piece you wrote. I did get a few paragraphs further than your prediction though.
I don’t find the lyrics that you quote from “Outlaw Pete” to be any different than his other lyrics. I find almost all of them to be overblown and silly. I can’t help but laugh when I hear the opening lyrics from Thunder Road.
Mostly I find Bruce to be a guy who takes himself waaaaaay to seriously. He is utterly without humor, and I find that he comes off kinda pompously. And I don’t think he’s cool because he doesn’t dig football and the Super Bowl.
You can criticize Steve Miller for his bad rhymes all you want–even those of us who enjoy his music generally do. But I find Steve Miller to be a whole lot less pretentious than the man that some call The Boss.
Odd nickname for a guy who strives so hard to keep his good lefty cred.
Nate
Maybe you should do an actual poll about the song. I’m a huge Springsteen fan (named my daughter “Rosalita”, no kidding) and I really like the song.
Also, sometimes the dumbest lyrics are some of the best. It always kills me when Bruce sings “just to buy you some shoes” in Drive All Night.
I am in group 1. And I don’t think “Outlaw Pete” is a bad song. I don’t LIKE it or anything. But I don’t think it’s bad. You have to understand that the opening lyrics are intentionally funny (for proof, read the latest Rolling Stone cover story – he is chuckling about it with the interviewer). There is a place for tragicomedy, and there’s nothing inherently wrong with it.
So having a song with silliness in it is fine. That said…it’s eight minutes long, and really not very interesting. Barenaked Ladies do tragicomic pretty well – see “Bank Job” where they try to rob a bank till they see it’s full of nuns, or “When I Fall,” about a window washer who imagines falling to his death. They aren’t bad for their indulgences of whimsy.
Great point by Paul: this is a piece on many things that don’t particularly relate or appeal to me, but on the whole, it works really well and offers some good insight. Also, I’m in complete agreement with Brian on “Squeeze Box.” For some weird reason, it was included on a “Best of the Who” CD I have; it’s the only song on there I can’t stand.
I was at the show. I’m one of those Bruce fanatics … a piker by fanatic standards, but it was my 33rd Bruce show since 1975. “Good Eye” should be great in concert, and will be if he tones down the distortion level on the vocals.
Anyway, Joe, this is a terrific column. Thanks.
Could be an element of Dylan mockery circa “Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts”/”Isis”, returning the favor of Dylan’s Springsteen parody, “Tweeter and the Monkey Man.”
Or perhaps it’s simply a case of Bruce nicking the tall-tale/surreal western ambiance of those songs, and infusing it with his own characteristic bombast/”humor”.
Or not.
Paul White: I share your bafflement over Bruce fandom…but imaginary numbers really aren’t hard to understand at all. I think they are just poorly named. There’s nothing any more “imaginary” about them than any other numbers. Unfortunately, there was an idea in mathematics, probably best summed up in a famous quote from Leopold Kronecker who said “God made the natural numbers, all else is the work of man.” (He was German, so this is a translation, of course.)
I try to encourage my students to think of them as “complex” numbers instead of “imaginary,” although I don’t find “complex” to be an apt description either, as they really are not terribly so.
Nate
I don’t think I would recognize any Springsteen songs if I heard them. But I agree with Paul White’s comment above.
Steve Miller had that “facts is” and “taxes” rhyme, of course, but Marvin Gaye had something similar years earlier in “Inner City Blues”.
After not seeing Springsteen in 20-plus years, I think watching him now would be like watching Greg Maddux pitch last year. I’ll pass on the tour.
Joe, I enjoyed the SI piece on your not-so-bold predictions. They were pretty bold actually. Baseball in just 72 hours!
I don’t think you should take Outlaw Pete so seriously. Think of it as a ‘mock epic,’ like Pope’s Rape of the Lock. Bruce deserves the right to be silly sometimes. I guarantee you he doesn’t take himself as seriously as some of his fans do. He’s written some goofy songs in the past, and I hope to god he continues to do so.
The last good Springsteen song was “Tweeter and the Monkeyman”. After Dylan laid out every Springsteen cliche in that one song, Springsteen never recovered. And the lowest part of the last Springsteen’s career has to be ripping off 867-5309 for the melody of Radio Nowhere.
I have every album of Springsteen through Tunnel of Love. I’ve bought probably 2/3 of his albums since then and got rid of them all. He should have retired from making new albums 20 years ago and just kept playing all his older songs. Everyone would have been happier and I would have saved money buying a bunch of crappy albums.
My friend asked if I was interested in seeing Bruce in concert, but after seeing the SuperBowl performance, I wasn’t interested.
I agree with Paul White. I can’t find anything appealing about Springsteen’s music, I believe both Bert AND Jack Morris should be in the Hall, and I don’t support out troops (hard to support people doing something you consider morally wrong). Yet I love Joe P’s blog more than any other. That’s what great writing does to you.
I fall into the casual Springsteen fan, and I don’t think I agree the song is dreadful. It’s not dull, but it is a bit boring. Maybe that makes it dreadful, I don’t know. You’re right about the KISS thing though. This “Outlaw Pete” sounds way too much like the chorus of Kiss’s rock-disco attempt, “I Was Made For Lovin You”. I say, if you wanna do that then just sample it so the original gets noticed and you can play with it. Don’t try to make it like you created the melody. Bruce is a better songwriter than to do that. That’s cheap. That’s unimaginative.
For a guy who genuflects by word-counts in the thousands on everything Bruce, you sure did harsh out a bit much on Jon Stewart. I’ve followed JS ever since he played soccer for William & Mary as Jon Leibowitz. And the fact that despite all his own celebrity he truly seemed humble in the presence of Bruce Springsteen struck me as a genuine moment. I’m betting you would have done the same if you had your own TV show and the Boss showed up. Give the man a break and indulge his Brice fetish the same way we indulge yours. And keep up the good work.
Albanate: For the record, Springsteen did once say, “I hate bosses. I hate being called ‘The Boss.’”
Mark S.: That’s an interesting take as a starting point for a rock essay, but it’s just odd to think a Dylan homage (or putdown, however you take it) would send Springsteen into an endless songwriting funk. Yes, “Tunnel of Love” was his last really good album, but to say he hasn’t had one good song since then? I don’t like the new album much, but “The Wrestler” and “The Last Carnival” are great songs. And “Devils and Dust” doesn’t get nearly enough love. (The song, not the album.)
as always fantastic. as someone that on occasion signs autographs, i will say it’s ridiculous and fantastic. i will also say that i would without reservation ask joe for his. anyway, i wonder, joe, if you know the music of dan bern. i think, as a springsteen fan, that you would love him. i recommend “talkin woody bob bruce & dan blues” and “albuquerque lullabye.” both are huge bruce homages. anyway, you’d like him. as much as no one likes “outlaw pete.” (although i think dylan and guthrie wrote about 100 songs between them that were as bad, on similar themes–as did seeger…)
I don’t think Dylan’s (or I should say Lucky Wilbury’s) song sent Springsteen over the edge and made him unable to write a good song again. I do think that it was a capstone of sorts to Springsteen’s style from the 70s and 80s.
What I think really happened was the Springsteen grew up. Through Nebraska, Springsteen was semi-popular. Everyone knew him and he had a level of fame. Remember, before Born in the USA, he only had one top 40 song. “Born in the USA” was Springsteen’s album about growing old (most of the songs are about reminiscing about earlier times). And then it blew up bigger than anyone could have imagined. He had 6 top 40 songs on that album alone.
The subsequent tour and live 3-disc album (and that tour) catapulted him into the stratosphere of popularity. The breakdown of his marriage and divorce was the subject of “Tunnel of Love” and gave that album its power.
Then he didn’t do anything again until 1992. By this time he had remarried and had two kids. He was no longer the loner searching for love or escape, he was a happily married family man. I believe he didn’t have as much to say anymore.
“Tweeter and the Monkey Man” came out and could pretty much be read as a summary of Springsteen’s music. Whether it’s meant as a homage or slap is up to the listener. But I’d guess that Springsteen decided to change his music around then (the same time he moved to L.A.). And I’d argue that he never found his way back.
The Guthrie/Seeger inspired albums sucked. No one would have paid any attention to The Rising if it weren’t about 9/11. And the less we speak of his dual albums from 1992 the better (and don’t get me started on the Hollywood music). His last two albums were highlighted by a song that made everyone wonder why he was stealing from Tommy Tutone and singing that sounds like Dylan in his mumbling phase (listen to Girls in Their Summer Clothes and you’ll see half the words are pretty much unintelligible).
The only thing that’s worth a listen in the last 20 years is “Murder Incorporated”. A song where he tried (in vain) to recapture his older music.
Then we come to 2009 where Springsteen plays the Super Bowl and runs and slides into the camera. All I could think during that slide is: He runs like my grandpa and I don’t need to see his crotch that closely. And I don’t need to see him in concert. Apparently people agree because the tickets for his Phoenix and Houston concerts are selling below (way below) the face value right now. $65 tickets are available on StubHub for $26 (cite: http://www.azcentral.com/thingstodo/music/articles/2009/04/02/20090402brucetix.html).
I’m reminded of Jakob Dylan telling the story of one of his heroes, Tom Waits, meeting his father for the first time. Apparently Waits was dumbstruck by the moment and was somewhere in the uneasy space between speechless and babbling. Jakob said he was thinking “Come on, you’re Tom Waits. You’re the coolest guy in the world. That’s just my dad.” What a bummer it must be to see your hero reduced to jelly by your boring old father.
Of course my favorite Bruce songs have to ‘Fast Cars’ and who could forget ‘Short People’
Not a Bruce fan at all, but a great post nonetheless. I really want to hear Outlaw Pete now.
I have to say that given the whole “He can throw that Hail Mary by you” I am not exactly stunned he is capable of a couple cringe-inducing missteps.
Old Man Duggan: “Leonard Cohen tonight (this is actually the last thing I do before I leave).”
Nice work! The Radio City show sold out in about five seconds, so I guess I’m going to miss him.
i’m a fan of springsteen the artist rather than the songs themselves. i love what he brings to the table and how relentless he is.
i have a lot of respect for the man.
i have been a KISS fan since i was a kid in 1975.
if you’re going to pilfer something from KISS, why must it be from such a terrible song from such a terrible era of their music?
Education For the Win …
Andy L: intentionally funny or intended to be funny? The lighter side of Bruce Springsteen has some promise, I’ll admit, but needs work. Comedy is not easy.
Mark S.: Can you also do the one about how Elvis Costello has sucked since Trust/Imperial Bedroom/King Of America/Blood and Chocolate/Spike/All This Useless Beauty/When I Was Cruel/The Delivery Man/Momofuku or whatever? Because reductionism is always a power rush.
Looking back, I think “Tweeter and the Monkey Man” had a lot more to do with Dylan’s increased creative vigor than it had anything to do with the direction Springsteen took. Dylan was obviously enjoying himself with the Wilburys and to some degree felt refreshed by the experience. He was so much older earlier in the’ 80s; he’s younger than that now.
Random thoughts:
The world is not round.It is slightly wider around the equator than it is through the poles.
@Brian #9: I think it’s wrong to consider Revolution #9 a song (and you could argue that, as such, it doesn’t belong on a pop album, but John is dead and unlikely to change his mind at this point). It’s a composition very much in the style of musique concrete, a fairly prominent avant garde musical denre in the 60’s. I’m not coming in one way or another on whether it’s a good style or whether Revolution #9 is a good composition within the style. Just saying that evaluating it as a song isn’t really looking at it through the proper lens.
@Aaron #29: Short People is by Randy Newman.
I agree with the sentiment about Jon Stewart. The Daily Show is one of my favorites but his interview with Bruce was not really enjoyable for anyone except himself, I suspect.
A like Outlaw Pete. Don’t care what the rest of you say I like it. I will agree that the lyrics aren’t up to much but I really like the music especailly when it goes all Ennio Morricone/Spaghetti Western for the shootout bit of the song.
The one thing I would say though is that the song does not fit on his new album at all. It is too different, although I guess that is why its the first track since it really wouldn’t work anywhere else in the ordering.
The worst part of Outlaw Pete in the live show is that he could play two other songs in that spot. And he has to play it in the #2 spot or it becomes the instant “get up and get beer” song, which, although I can understand it when people do it for something slow (although anyone who did it during “Youngstown” on Reunion or Rising should have their tickets revoked), would be a disaster.
The other disappointment is – okay, we get it, the Morricone tribute, it had to come eventually. THIS is the song you do it with? It’s not funny. It’s not ironic. It’s just bad. Or it might have been okay if it wasn’t NINE MINUTES LONG.
San Jose confirmed our worst fears (and I’m in group #1. Probably group #0): that the rehearsal show we saw the second night in Asbury Park was going to be THE show. There’s no arc. There’s no story. There’s – a bunch of songs we kind of like and the rest is for people who saw him at the Super Bowl and decided to buy tickets.
I’m not sure why people who don’t like Bruce Springsteen need to trumpet it to the world like it’s some kind of great accomplishment, but if it makes you feel good, hey, go for it. I just don’t get what you get out of tearing down something that other people love. It just makes you look small and sad. I mean, I could do six hours on how much I hate Coldplay. It’s just not worth it. I just don’t go read things about Coldplay or spend time writing lengthy comments about them.
About Bruce’s kids: it was understood for years that you didn’t talk about Bruce’s kids. Ever. Anywhere. Photographers didn’t take pictures of them, fans would never publish anything the kids were accidentally in. We all said, “The day the kids appear onstage, it’s open season.”
And then they all came out onstage the last night of the Devils & Dust show in Trenton. People said, “Hey, they were on stage,” and we said, “Go for it.” Bruce and Patti were smart. They were so, so smart with the kids. They didn’t put them in the limelight until they were in their teens. People would ask “What are your kids listening to?” and he would say “That’s their business.” “Your kids must love watching you play.” “Um, there are few things more boring than watching 50,000 people cheer your parents.” stuff like that.
The best was the chat about the kids during D&D: “People come up to me all the time and say, ‘Your kids must think you’re SO cool’. Um, no. They don’t.”
Maybe that’s what you’ll be saying about your kids when they get older, Joe.
Your poll results are skewed by your use of the word “awful”. Had you just said “Outlaw Pete is a good song” you might have got 90% disagreement.
I’ve been a Bruce fan for 25 of my 37 years and I’ve come to believe that Badlands, even more than BTR, really is the quintessential Bruce Springsteen song.
Joe? Joe POSNANSKI??? Are you ELIZABETH’S father??? Do you think you could get me her autograph?
I suppose I’ll get a round of flames for saying I like Mr. Roboto and I proudly own the original “Kilroy Was Here” vinyl. Is it “Art”? Maybe sorta. It’s certainly a unified concept. Is it “great music”? Depends on your definition, but as a longtime Styx fan I’m aware of the general consensus. Is it just plain fun to listen to? Absolutely 100%. I know the non-Dennis members were not thrilled with it, but the album gets me every bit as revved up on my iPod now as it did 25 years ago on the turntable. And after all, why does it have to be Art — DeYoung’s pretensions aside? Like baseball itself, remember… it’s supposed to be a game.
Just another example of the concept that tastes differ, and there’s very little that’s truly laughable… especially to the 90% standard… with the exception of “According to Jim”.
Domo arigato.
I’ve long wanted for musicians to go through a “retraction” process in their later years. The great theologian Augustine in his later years went through every one of his published works and made comments for the reader giving insights into his writings as well as retracting things that he no longer believes. Among his retractions were things that he still defended, but he regretted that they were misused and abused by other people.
I think this last part is where I’m most interested in what a great musician would retract from her earlier years. Would the popularity of a song ruin it? Would horrible or great covers of it ruin it? Would seeing it in commercials ruin it? I know this sometimes gets asked in interviews, but I would love a book of Rock retractions.
That said, perhaps Springsteen will later retract Outlaw Pete.
I’m a diehard, and I’m still not sure what I think of Outlaw Pete. The lyrics don’t do it for me–amusing but not funny, satirical but not profound. I do love it musically, Kiss ripoff be damned, yet it’s way too long. I do appreciate it as something different and fun, and I’d welcome seeing it in concert, but there are other new songs (and forgotten mid-career songs) that I’d rather hear.
I do like Queen of the Supermarket. It’s like a poor man’s Outlaw Pete–not quite as exciting musically, but *some* interesting lyrical ideas, and a manageable length.
I still don’t understand Bruce’s fascination with the “bullet mic” for his blues songs. I actually like the way he does the blues–Reason to Believe was great in the last tour–and the bullet mic is tolerable in the studio (Good Eye, Jersey Devil), when the vocals are somewhat coherent. But on the Devils Tour and at San Jose, the bullet mic blues songs are unlistenable. The sound in general has been terrible at Bruce’s shows lately, and it’s a real pet peeve of mine, given his earlier reputation for walking around the arena to test each section’s sound.
But all that said, I’m looking forward to the tour. I really like the new album, even if the lyrics are often subpar, because it just sounds so darned good. And I love the idea of shaking up the set by putting Badlands first (no more long crowd schtick, just pure intensity), and moving Born to Run to the end of the main set (just cause it’s so predictable as an encore). Actually, I’d love to see a show with Max’s teenaged son Jay on drums–I hear he’s great and really pushes the tempo, which can plod at times with the old man.
Speaking of kids, Bruce’s daughter Jessica is really making a name for herself on the equestrian circuit, winning several prestigious events in Florida. She’s been interviewed a few times on NYC television and seems very down-to-earth (like her father) and articulate (not like his father!).
Mark S: Murder Inc. was actually written in 1982, recorded for what became the Born in the USA album, but not released until 1995. So that’s truly the exception that proves your rule. I personally disagree with you, but his career has certainly been different since that great run between Greetings and Tunnel. FWIW, I think Human Touch was lame, Lucky Town good but minor, Tom Joad great lyrically but dull, The Rising very good but not quite great, D&D interesting but minor, Seeger fantastic musically but a genre exercise, Magic very good but not quite great, and WOD a fun listen but inconsitent lyrically.
Ooh, I would never have bothered to have listen to “Outlaw Pete” if you hadn’t written about it. It’s a fun song, which is not what I associate with Bruuuuuce. Probably, for me, one of his best. Mind you, I think “Mr. Roboto” is brilliant and tons of fun (every band should have a “Bohemian Rhapsody” of its very own), so I’m not trying to persuade him. Just sayin’ hey: thanks for the tip.
I’m just happy I read all the way through this very long post to reach the ending. Well worth it!!!
When Greetings From Asbury Park came out, I didn’t have the taste to appreciate it. Now I do, but nothing comparable’s coming from BS’s pen. Outlaw Pete is funny, true, but in a way a song shouldn’t be–as so many have implied, it’s a parody of itself.
“All Lost In The Supermarket” is probably one of the only workable uses of the word “supermarket” in a song, probably because the word itself Clashes with music as a genre.
“Squeezebox” is still a funny cool song. You guys-n-gals’ve just heard it too many times to like it any more.
Tom Waits & Jon Stewart together would be a great stage act, but at the end Amy Winehouse’d have to come out & beat them senseless with a microphone stand.
Joe — I’m wondering if a KISS baseline is more like the first baseline or the third baseline. Got to agree with you about Badlands. Elizabeth sounds extremely well-grounded.
Brian #9 — I wouldn’t say “Squeezebox” is THAT bad, though I would certainly put it in the bottom quarter of their work. “Shiny Happy People” always make me think of the bit Denis Leary did for MTV way back then: “OK, I want all the shiny people on this side of the room, and all of the happy people on this side of the room.”
Aaron #29 (and by way of explanation to Rutbag #35) — Nice Michael Scott reference. Don’t remember; was “Short People” on that list (I know “Fast Car” was)?
Gate #30 (and all those who wrote about the “great artist/crappy song” conundrum) — You want cringe-worthy? Since so many others have brought up Bob Dylan, he did a whole ALBUM of cringe-worthy AND gave it the rather inexplicable title of “Self Portrait”.
More for Rutbag #35 — Got to agree with you on the “world is round” thing; I answered “No” myself. It’s an oblate spheroid (as opposed to a football, which is a prolate spheroid).
Great work as always, Joe. As Paul White #8 points out, it is indeed amazing how much you can cover in one posting.
Hey, maybe you should write a book!
Brandon @41:
Artists do retractions all the time. Sometimes they even do it the moment an album is released, by never once playing the song live, not even on the tour supporting the album in question. Genesis has never, ever, not even once, performed half the songs from Duke.
(On the other hand, one can never assume anything either; U2, for example, has very very rarely performed “The Unforgettable Fire” since the tour supporting the album’s release, but that’s due to technical issues rather than a retraction.)
First, the grammar. “What would it be like to the son or daughter of Bruce Springsteen?” You probably should put a be in that bonnet.
Secondly, there’s a phenomenon which is now starting to get some more scientific support. Most people stop enjoying new music after the age of about 35. Most people also need to experience something more than once to tolerate it. The number I recall is seven. Seven tastes of a food which is completely new to you (no spices in common with other foods). Seven listenings of a new song (which is why almost all the CDs I’ve bought of new music the past decade or so were soundtracks, where the common leitmotif nature of film scores means you hear a riff that many times or more during the movie). Anyway, recently a study on memory indicated that the peak years are 22-37, and then you start losing memory, but until you’re in the early 60s you’re also gaining experience which can compensate. And I’m thinking, maybe you don’t like Outlaw Pete because you’re starting to reach that age break where it’s harder to like new different things straight off.
I’m in group 2 on Springsteen. I don’t have the disposable income to go to many concerts. I don’t like many recent songs unless I’ve had to hear them a lot while chauffeuring my daughter or Weird Al filked them. I’d define your degrees of fandom as: #1: have many complete original albums, or perhaps bought a compilation album and realized how many good songs were on it. #2: bought a compilation album (or two, given the longevity of some of our artists these days) because you knew there’s be at least 2-3 songs on it you wanted to own. #3: own no albums by that artist. I put my favorite Bruce songs on my rock and roll playlists for when I put the headphones on and crank out work. There are many more songs by the artists of my half generation (my Elizabeth is 23), and my more common playlists are classical albums, film soundtracks, or novelty songs. But I digress.
I’ve seen that in some respects Bruce follows my favorite group, The Beatles, in being eclectic in his songs. I mean, the Beatles started out singing about holding your hand and love me do, young universal feelings of romance, and evolved into maturing feelings of loss and aging, and then went every which way as they liberated themselves from the Pop 40 format. I mean, Yellow Submarine? Rocky Raccoon? Mean Mr. Mustard? Almost all of The White Album (which I think was meant as a takeoff on “white noise”, an attempt to show that music is far broader than most people think and one man’s music is another man’s noise. But maybe that’s just me) is songs that are rather unlike most of what The Beatles did earlier. Similarly, Bruce has done some great songs on common rock and roll common man (okay, mostly common American) themes but he also put Chopsticks in “Blinded by the Light” and sang about Quinn the eskimo.
So I’ll suggest that maybe Pete the Outlaw doesn’t seem all that outlandish to me, given what Bruce has already done, and you may want to consider whether the problem is with the song or a reflection on an aging brain.
Upon reflection, it will be very hard for most normal people to get that the way I mean it and not take it as insulting. My wife, for example, goes bat guano crazy some times when she can’t remember something. I just accept that aging beats the alternative and look it up on the internet, if convenient. One of the greatest bridge players defines his skill that day as “heat one”, “heat two”, or “heat three”, and he says that part of the greatness of the best in the world is to recognize how well they are doing and adjust their efforts accordingly. For example, Manny on a bad (heat three) day might decide after two badly fooled swinging strikeouts to choke up a little and just make contact. I consider that self awareness to be what drives being able to make that adjustment. So I’m suggesting this not to say that you’re older, but rather in the hopes of enlightenment so that you can continue to apply experience to improve performance even if your brain is starting to slow down a bit. As a reader (and proof reader) I see no signs of you dropping off. I’m really just trying to help.