The Music Of Bruce Springsteen

For thirty-four years now, Bruce Springsteen has been making and releasing original music, the style of which has, in my opinion, never been bettered. His themes are based around "everyday" day life, whatever you define that to be. His lyrics reflect the harshness of the ordinary life and portray a sense of empathy to the listener. Through his music, Bruce Springsteen is a power of strength to those who are often finding life tough and wearing.

For me, his songs fall into two catagories, defined by the tempo of the music: the fast rousing songs can be gathered together as one; the slow, reflectful songs can also be grouped together. Of his most well-known songs, Born to Run, Badlands, Hungry Heart, Dancing in the Dark, Glory Days, Better Days, and of course, Born in the U.S.A. all fall into the first catagory. When I need a song to pick me up, it is usually one of these. Each of these songs is different, though. The lyrics of Hungry Heart are perhaps closer to those of his slower songs. Born in the U.S.A. is possibly the most misunderstood record ever released, and it's lyrical content is far from positive. Better Days is, on the other hand, wholely positive. Like Glory Days, it's about being happy with what you've got. Born to Run is about individualism; everybody is running from something, everybody is running towards something, and everybody is running, for the most part, alone.

The second catagory of song I mentioned earlier is the slower, often more reflective song. The River, Atlantic City, My Hometown, Streets of Philadelphia. Success is not a constant theme in these songs. They deal with the distinct possibility of failure: failing to support a family in The River; failing to find happiness in marriage in the same song; failing to get out of the red financially and having to head out of town in Atlantic City; the failing of the economy in My Hometown; the failure of integration in the same song, and the failure to escape a terrible place; and the failure to support even oneself in the Streets of Philadelphia. Each song deals with the harshness of the urban landscape in Reagan's America. The true failure of these sorrow songs, though, is the failing of the United States. The U.S.A. fails Bruce in all these songs. The dead man's town (Born in the U.S.A.) devourers him. The American Dream is just that: a dream of success, and nothing more. Is a dream a lie if it doesn't come true, or is it something worse? (The River) The songs in the first catagory keep the spirits of the listener up, but these songs balance them out.

Thunder Road is the only well-known Springsteen record which bridges the gap between the two groups. The tempo of Thunder Road starts slow, but picks up halfway through. Perhaps the second catagory of song is just Bruce hiding beneath the covers and studying his pain (Thunder Road). The second part of the song emphasises that all one has to do is show a little faith, there's magic in the night (Thunder Road). In this song, Springsteen contemplates defeat, and falling into the second catagory of song, but then becomes a winner. He recognises his one last chance to make it real (Thunder Road) and dares to mention the promised land. Live versions of Thunder Road, however, add another meaning. More often than not, Springsteen sings the entire song slowly. The most famous release of this is on the entirely live album Hammersmith Odeon, London '75. Perhaps the promised land isn't actually all it might seem to be. I particularly like the line "Well I got this guitar and I leaned how to make it talk," and the seconds of silence that follows it. Think about it.

In a world where it is all too easy to feel small, insignificant, lonely and powerless, it is important to draw strength and confidence from people who feel the same way. Strength in numbers.

In the day we sweat it out in the streets of a runaway American dream
At night we ride through mansions of glory in suicide machines
Sprung from cages out on highway 9,
Chrome wheeled, fuel injected
and steppin' out over the line
Baby this town rips the bones from your back
It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap
We gotta get out while we're young
`Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run

Wendy let me in I wanna be your friend
I want to guard your dreams and visions
Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims
and strap your hands across my engines
Together we could break this trap
We'll run till we drop, baby we'll never go back
Will you walk with me out on the wire
`Cause baby I'm just a scared and lonely rider
But I gotta find out how it feels
I want to know if love is wild
girl I want to know if love is real

Beyond the Palace hemi-powered drones scream down the boulevard
The girls comb their hair in rearview mirrors
And the boys try to look so hard
The amusement park rises bold and stark
Kids are huddled on the beach in a mist
I wanna die with you Wendy on the streets tonight
In an everlasting kiss

The highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive
Everybody's out on the run tonight
but there's no place left to hide
Together Wendy we'll live with the sadness
I'll love you with all the madness in my soul
Someday girl I don't know when
we're gonna get to that place
Where we really want to go
and we'll walk in the sun
But till then tramps like us
baby we were born to run

The screen door slams
Marys dress sways
Like a vision she dances across the porch
As the radio plays
Roy orbison singing for the lonely
Hey thats me and I want you only
Dont turn me home again
I just cant face myself alone again
Dont run back inside
Darling you know just what Im here for
So youre scared and youre thinking
That maybe we aint that young anymore
Show a little faith, theres magic in the night
You aint a beauty, but hey youre alright
Oh and thats alright with me

You can hide `neath your covers
And study your pain
Make crosses from your lovers
Throw roses in the rain
Waste your summer praying in vain
For a savior to rise from these streets
Well now Im no hero
Thats understood
All the redemption I can offer, girl
Is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow
Hey what else can we do now?
Except roll down the window
And let the wind blow
Back your hair
Well the nights busting open
These two lanes will take us anywhere
We got one last chance to make it real
To trade in these wings on some wheels
Climb in back
Heavens waiting on down the tracks
Oh-oh come take my hand
Riding out tonight to case the promised land
Oh-oh thunder road, oh thunder road oh thunder road
Lying out there like a killer in the sun
Hey I know its late we can make it if we run
Oh thunder road, sit tight take hold
Thunder road

Well I got this guitar
And I learned how to make it talk
And my cars out back
If youre ready to take that long walk
From your front porch to my front seat
The doors open but the ride it aint free
And I know youre lonely
For words that I aint spoken
But tonight well be free
All the promisesll be broken
There were ghosts in the eyes
Of all the boys you sent away
They haunt this dusty beach road
In the skeleton frames of burned out chevrolets

They scream your name at night in the street
Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet
And in the lonely cool before dawn
You hear their engines roaring on
But when you get to the porch theyre gone
On the wind, so mary climb in
Its a town full of losers
And Im pulling out of here to win.

Lights out tonight, trouble in the heartland.
Got a head-on collision, smashin in my guts man.
Im caught in a crossfire that I dont understand.
But theres one thing I know for sure girl:
I dont give a damn for the same old played out scenes
I dont give a damn for just the in-betweens.
Honey I want the heart, I want the soul, I want control right now.
You better listen to me baby:
Talk about a dream; try to make it real.
You wake up in the night with a fear so real.
You spend your life waiting for a moment that just dont come.
Well dont waste your time waiting

Badlands you gotta live it every day
Let the broken hearts stand
As the price youve gotta pay
Well keep pushin till its understood
And these badlands start treating us good

Workin in the field till you get your back burned
Workin `neath the wheels till you get your facts learned.
Baby I got my facts learned real good right now.
You better get it straight darling:
Poor men wanna be rich, rich men wanna be kings,
And a king aint satisfied till he rules everything.
I wanna go out tonight, I wanna find out what I got.
Now I believe in the love that you gave me.
I believe in the faith that could save me.
I believe in the hope and I pray that some day it
Will raise me above these

Badlands you gotta live it every day
Let the broken hearts stand
As the price youve gotta pay
Well keep pushin till its understood
And these badlands start treating us good

For the ones who had a notion, a notion deep inside
That it aint no sin to be glad youre alive.
I wanna find one face that aint looking through me
I wanna find one place, I wanna spit in the face of these

I come from down in the valley where mister when youre young
They bring you up to do like your daddy done
Me and mary we met in high school when she was just seventeen
Wed ride out of that valley down to where the fields were green

Wed go down to the river
And into the river wed dive
Oh down to the river wed ride

Then I got mary pregnant and man that was all she wrote
And for my nineteen birthday I got a union card and a wedding coat
We went down to the courthouse and the judge put it all to rest
No wedding day smiles no walk down the aisle
No flowers no wedding dress
That night we went down to the river
And into the river wed dive
On down to the river we did ride

I got a job working construction for the johnstown company
But lately there aint been much work on account of the economy
Now all them things that seemed so important
Well mister they vanished right into the air
Now I just act like I dont remember, mary acts like she dont care
But I remember us riding in my brothers car
Her body tan and wet down at the reservoir
At night on them banks Id lie awake
And pull her close just to feel each breath shed take
Now those memories come back to haunt me, they haunt me like a curse
Is a dream a lie if it dont come true
Or is it something worse that sends me
Down to the river though I know the river is dry
Down to the river, my baby and i
Oh down to the river we ride

Well, they blew up the chicken man in philly last night
Now, they blew up his house, too
Down on the boardwalk theyre gettin ready for a fight
Gonna see what them racket boys can do

Now, theres trouble bustin in from outta state
And the d.a. cant get no relief
Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade
And the gamblin commissions hangin on by the skin of his teeth

Well now, everything dies, baby, thats a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in atlantic city

Well, I got a job and tried to put my money away
But I got debts that no honest man can pay
So I drew what I had from the central trust
And I bought us two tickets on that coast city bus

Now, baby, everything dies, honey, thats a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in atlantic city

Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold
But with you forever Ill stay
Were goin out where the sands turnin to gold
Put on your stockins baby, `cause the nights getting cold
And maybe evrything dies, baby, thats a fact
But maybe evrything that dies someday comes back

Now, I been lookin for a job, but its hard to find
Down here its just winners and losers and dont
Get caught on the wrong side of that line
Well, Im tired of comin out on the losin end
So, honey, last night I met this guy and Im gonna
Do a little favor for him

I was eight years old and running with a dime in my hand
Into the bus stop to pick up a paper for my old man
Id sit on his lap in that big old buick and steer as we drove through town
Hed tousle my hair and say son take a good look around
This is your hometown, this is your hometown
This is your hometown, this is your hometown

In `65 tension was running high at my high school
There was a lot of fights between the black and white
There was nothing you could do
Two cars at a light on a saturday night in the back seat there was a gun
Words were passed in a shotgun blast
Troubled times had come to my hometown
My hometown, my hometown, my hometown

Now main streets whitewashed windows and vacant stores
Seems like there aint nobody wants to come down here no more
Theyre closing down the textile mill across the railroad tracks
Foreman says these jobs are going boys and they aint coming back to
Your hometown, your hometown, your hometown, your hometown

Last night me and kate we laid in bed talking about getting out
Packing up our bags maybe heading south
Im thirty-five we got a boy of our own now
Last night I sat him up behind the wheel and said son take a good
Look around
This is your hometown

Yours, wherever you may be,
Daniel C. Wright

The Talented Tenth: Why It Is Necessary For A Comprehensive Understanding From A Comprehensive Study

Since the start of this month (June), I have been reading many scholarly articles regarding the life, philosophy and work of W.E.B. Du Bois. Much has been written of him, and a great deal of it concerns his 'Talented Tenth' concept.

The fundamentals of Du Bois's idea are simple:educated African Americans should sacrifice personal interests in favour of community leadership, designed to improve the condition of the race. Before I broadly define the Talented Tenth, it is necessary to immediately deal withe the biggest criticism. The single criticism which has dogged the concept right from its publication is still part of the debate today: elitism. But the Talented Tenth was never designed to be an exclusionary group! The concept was originally designed to promote self-sacrifice.

It is important to distinguish between the Talented Tenth and the black middle classes of both now and of Du Bois's era, something Juan Battle has done in the past. Juan's defining characteristic of the black middle class is elitism: they are the ones who are dong nothing for poor blacks and they are the ones who are concerned solely with individual accomplishments. Juan also concludes the Talented Tenth are currently fulfilling Du Bois's original charge to uplift the African American race from the top, down.

An in-depth public study going beyond the boundaries of academia of Du Bois's Talented Tenth concept is crucial to understanding how far American society has come in the last one hundred years. The study should be done along Du Boisian lines, split into four divisions: historical study; statistical investigation; anthropological measurement and sociological interpretation.

I am wondering whether or not it is still necessary to have a group 'leading the way' for the race. Du Bois altered and modified his definition of the group as times and circumstances changed. What would he have as the defining characteristics today? Would a college education still be central to it?

Also, what can British society take from his work with regard to the Muslim community of the twenty-first century? The history of Muslims in Britain is very different to the history of Africans in the United States. The key difference is of course, Britons never enslaved the Muslims. So is the Talented Tenth of Du Bois still valid for Muslims or does it need to be modified in some way or does it need scrapping altogether?

Yours, wherever you may be,
Daniel C. Wright.

He Was Deaf But I Was Dumb

We had been sat down for about twenty minutes, contemplating the ways of the world and debating the issues of the week with friendly light hearted talk. It was more busy than the last time, but it was still only about half full.

A gentleman walked in and strolled around carrying a drink and something else. He walked up to the top: he caught my eye when he came back down. There was plenty of room to sit up there, but he came back down and walked past both of us. I saw that Rick kept his eye on him all the way down to the bottom. Not long later, this sole gentleman reappeared in my eyeline before he finally sat down. He sat down at the table next to us. By this time, we had both 'clocked' that something was odd about this man. The fact he was tightly clutching a large A4 writing pad and making strange sounding noises put us on edge.

Rick got up and went to the toilet. I had only about one fifth of my pint left. (Thwaites Bomber; the only place I have ever seen it on tap) As I took a drink, he came over to me and tapped me on te shoulder. He thrust his pad in front of me. On it, he had written some thing along the lines of "Hello, my full name is Roger ------ ------. I am from Manchester." As I am sure can be appreciated, this is a highly unusual occurance in a pub. Shaking a little, I wrote a scruffy reply, replacing his details with mine. As I did so, a text came on my phone and Rick reappeared back from the toilet. He looked quite shocked as he sat down, and, as a trigger movement, had a sip of his drink. His glass was emtpy. As I handed him my reply, I wondered why I couldn't talk to him. I read the text on my phone. It was from Rick, and read something along the lines of "Man, that guy is really freaking me out. Let's make a move."

He thrust the pad in my face again, this time asking me where I lived. "Right here in Lymm," I replied. Then it got really wierd. He drew a map, a big 'X' marking the pub and asking me to finish it off. I was a little worried by this. Who was this guy? And what did he want?! Rick saw what this man was asking me to do, and, being more assertive than I, he grabbed the pad and wrote something. I later found out he wrote what I call a 'put-down exit': "We're going now. Bye." and walked out, making eyes at me to leave. I hurried off, shaking hands with the man as I went. By the time we got to the car, I was well shaken, most perplexed by what had just happened. I could not think straight. What was wrong with that man?

He was deaf.

He had been deaf all his life and so couldn't talk. I didn't realise that at the time, and the experience scared me.

Yours, wherever you may be,
Daniel C. Wright.