{"id":54941,"date":"2015-08-25T12:10:07","date_gmt":"2015-08-25T17:10:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.shotinthedark.info\/wp\/?p=54941"},"modified":"2015-08-25T12:20:45","modified_gmt":"2015-08-25T17:20:45","slug":"the-streets-alive-secret-debts-are-paid","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.shotinthedark.info\/wp\/?p=54941","title":{"rendered":"The Street’s Alive, Secret Debts Are Paid"},"content":{"rendered":"

Born to Run\u00a0<\/em> – for my money, one of the ten greatest albums in the history of American rock and roll, and of that list, one of my 2-3 favorites – turns thirty years old today.<\/p>\n

No, wait – 1975? \u00a0That’s forty years go.<\/p>\n

Ouch.<\/p>\n

I’m going to re-run a post I first did on the album’s thirtieth anniversary. \u00a0Which is, itself, kind of a chronological whack in the head; I’ve been blogging long enough to cover two decennials of this album.<\/p>\n

But it was one of my favorites when I first wrote it, and I’m glad to put it out there again.<\/p>\n

\n

Bruce Springsteen released Born To Run<\/em> thirty years ago today.<\/p>\n

\n

Thirty<\/em> years. The album is twice as old as I was when I first heard it.<\/p>\n

Amazing.<\/p>\n

\"borntorun_front.jpg\"<\/p>\n

I hear the album today, and it\u2019s still just as fresh as it ever was. If Rock and Roll is a matter of crystalline moments that still cut and shine through the tarnish of the years and the background noise of everyday life, Born To Run<\/em> is the mother of all diamonds.<\/a><\/p>\n

I remember being a seventies-addled junior high kid, watching the guy at Mother\u2019s Records in Jamestown \u2013 the one across from the high school \u2013 drop the needle on the first copy of Born To Run<\/em> I ever saw, on the one hand thinking \u201cno way<\/em> it\u2019s better thanBoston<\/em>\u201c, on the other hand looking at the sleeve \u2013 a 26 year old Bruce leaning on a 33 year old Clarence (with a Fender Freaking Telecaster Squire<\/em>, in the middle of the heyday of the Gibson Les Paul, no less!), presaging the joy and tension and just plain ENERGY<\/em> in the album, and thinking \u201cWow. That\u2019s rock and roll\u201d.<\/p>\n

\"\"

Clarence Clemons, Bruce, and Miami Steve, at Bruce’s UK debut in support of Born to Run, at the Hammersmith in London.<\/p><\/div>\n

And then \u2013 Thunder Road:<\/p>\n

The screen door slams, Mary\u2019s dress sways
\nLike a vision she dances across the porch. As the radio plays
\nRoy Orbison singing for the lonely
\nHey that\u2019s me and I want you only
\nDon\u2019t turn me home again, I just can\u2019t face myself alone again<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

A girl! Dancing on the porch! Sign me up!<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"

Outtake from the Born to Run cover photo session.<\/p><\/div>\n

All prelude of course, to the burst of energy to come that washed over me, that shot a chill up my spine:<\/p>\n

With a chance to make it good somehow
\nHey what else can we do now?
\nExcept roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair
\nWell the night\u2019s busting open
\nThis two lanes will take us anywhere
\nWe got one last chance to make it real
\nTo trade in these wings on some wheels
\nClimb in back, Heaven\u2019s waiting on down the tracks\u2026<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Bruce has done better albums (Darkness on the Edge of Town, Tunnel of Love<\/em>), he\u2019s had records that sold more albums (Born In The USA<\/em>) \u2013 but no album, before or since, has ever had moments<\/em> like Born To Run<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\"\"

It breaks my heart just a little that two of the three guys in this 1975 pic – organist Danny Federici and Clarence Clemons – are gone now.<\/p><\/div>\n

Moments \u2013 it\u2019s a prosaic word, but in the world of Mitch, as applied to Rock and Roll, it has a very specific meaning that, for purposes of explanation, I should make clear; a \u201cmoment\u201d is something, some tiny snippet of a song, that sends a chill up your spine, that rattles you to the core of your being. They can be huge and dramatic (Roger Daltrey\u2019s scream in \u201cWon\u2019t Get Fooled Again\u201d), or light and subtle (Susannah Hoffs\u2019 cooing \u201cto a perfect world\u201d at the end of \u201cDover Beach\u201d, from the first Bangles album); they can be part of a great song (the final \u201cto bring the victory Jesus won\u2026\u201d in U2\u2019s \u201cSunday Bloody Sunday\u201d, the murderous guitar hooks in Big Country\u2019s \u201cWhere The Rose Is Sown\u201d, the bridge in Smokey Robinson\u2019s \u201cCruisin’\u201d), a mediocre one (the final coda in the Alarm\u2019s \u201cBlaze of Glory\u201d, the bridges in the Babies\u2019 \u201cIsn\u2019t It Time\u201d), even a crappy one (Neil Schon\u2019s entrance in Journey\u2019s \u201cDon\u2019t Stop Believing\u201d), it can beat you over the head (the beginning of Barry Goudreau\u2019s blazing final solo in Boston\u2019s \u201cLong Time\u201d), it can seduce you (the mournful, whispered chorus of Richard Thompson\u2019s \u201cJenny\u201d, Aimee Mann\u2019s transclucent last line of the last verse of Til Tuesday\u2019s \u201cComing Up Close\u201d). You get the picture.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Moments are ephemeral, unpredictable. Most artists never have one (Laura Brannigan and Dee Snider searched their whole careers in vain); most albums never send a single chill up a lonely spine. A single such moment can redeem an otherwise mediocre career; the world could forget the Monkees, Roxette, 10,000 Maniacs, the Cars and Abba tomorrow, but I\u2019d love them for a grand total of maybe fifteen seconds worth of moments among them (brief snippets of \u201cI\u2019m A Believer\u201d, \u201cIt\u2019s All Over Now\u201d, \u201cThese Are Days\u201d, \u201cBye Bye Love\u201d and \u201cSOS\u201d, two-second flares of pop brilliance that are all I need). A talent for such moments \u2013 the ability to create more than one or two on a couple of albums \u2013 is a rare thing indeed, almost mythical. Pete Townsend, Ray Davies, Chuck D, Lennon\/McCartney, Paul Westerberg, Chrissy Hynde (until about 1985), Bono\/The Edge, Stuart Adamson, Smokey Robinson, Levi Stubbs, Aimee Mann \u2013 it\u2019s a small, select list.<\/p>\n

\"\"

The Born to Run era E Street Band; Clarence Clemons, Steve Van Zandt, Max Weinberg, Bruce, Roy Bittan, Danny Federici, Gary Tallent.<\/p><\/div>\n

And in no album are there more such moments jammed so tightly together, moments enough to define the careers of a dozen other artists, moments that, thirty years later, still thrill and chill and drag you out into onto the Jersey Turnpike of the mind in Dad\u2019s jalopy. None. Ever:<\/p>\n