Bruce Springsteen – The Promise

“At the time, I was still held in thrall by the towering pop records that had shaped my youth ...” All and all that’s just fine, but like Mr. Dylan, Bruce seems to be releasing a ton of material that certainly deserves to be heard, but some thirty years off, if these songs were left on the cutting room floor back then, do they really deserve a place of prominence, or are they merely a perspective into the scope and sequence that brought the music of this Jersey Boy, by way of New York City, or vise versa to the attention of the world, branding him like some ’57 Chevy, one of the most powerful and innovative artists of the last century. Certainly Bruce is finding both his voice, his music, and his muse here ... all evident by his liberal borrowing [?] from the music that so inspired him, and in that sense, this is a very important body of work.

Rather than simply processing and reviewing this body of work, I feel it’s more important to consider several of the songs, note their genesis, and see their development. “Racing In The Street” is far more than a mere nod to Martha & The Vandellas, Bruce wraps his head around their energy, and their visions of great pop songs, laying layer after layer, till it’s almost a wall-of-sound, as the music struts on. The song has a much more human feel to it, more somber, then what we’ve come to know, relying on a more pronounced harmonica and piano. “Gotta Get The Feeling” is an unavoidable slash across the face of rock n’ roll, creating a Phil Spector induced mesh of Badfinger meets The Four Seasons, suitable for dropping the top after a cool rain, allowing Clarence to ripple perhaps his most sustained and melodic sax riffs of his career. “Outside Looking In” doesn’t rock, it gallops in like a heard of horse, heavy on heartbeat reverb, and lyrics that can’t be challenged, or beholding to any other number. “Someday We’ll Be Together” is a rather weak, but beautiful track, nearly classically done, laced with atmospheric effects, and a held in check euphoria. “One Way Street” conjures Smokey Robinson, is filled with youthful yearning, yet opportunistic in its nature, with hints of “Thunder Road.” What [?], you don’t know the Flamin’ Groovies, then get ye to the record store, and hear what they taught Bruce here, as he stumbles through a love gone wrong rockin’ ballad, complete with a sensational guitar solo that’s double tracked to perfection with the a sax solo that’s so good you’ll be jumping back just to hear it again and again. “Rendezvous” was recorded in one take, and is brilliantly evident, sounding powerful, full of pop guitar jangle, a knock your socks back brief set of fuzz, a couple of stolen lines, and drumming that has Keith Moon written all over it. “Ain’t Good Enough For You” harkens back to “Palisades Park,” full of finger popping, girl twirling melodies that will have you strolling down the boardwalk like you own it, sending out infectious eye spark that’s sure to turn heads in jeans that are just too tight for even the night. “Fire” beaks all the rules, slowed down in tempo, lustful, sweaty, full of ion, and Spanish Stroll, built for the 4th of July, and cherry bombs in the night. This is a minimalist version of what we’ve become accustom to hearing, punctuated by Steven’s brilliant guitar work, and a sax rhythm stolen directly from Booker T. & The MG’s, but that’s not a bad thing, that’s a dancin’ fine smile. “Come On Let’s Go Tonight” is totally reworked, the melody is very somber, almost tearful, though the Celtic feel from the accordion and violin almost do and don’t work in the same breath, it takes a man like Springsteen to pull this off without looking shameful. “Talk To Me” has a ska feel to it that will not be denied, with lyrics that tumble like dice from his lips, yet at the same time is full of a un-obvious blue eyed soul. “Breakaway” is probably the only epic on this release, and one of Bruce’s early strong points, raising the ghost of Roy Orbison [how come Bruce was never part of The Traveling Wilbury’s?], back to a rhythmic military drum, filled with visions of troubled youth, and a wasteland just over the horizon that seems to offer the only hope. Some parts are a bit cheesy, and Bruce certainly pushes these aspects in his later work, making a lot of it seem trite and unnecessary. “City Of The Night” comes at you like a slow burning fuse that strolls, and is more than worthing of anything Mink DeVille ever laid down. The song simmers much like Lou Reed’s “Walk On The Wild Side,” full of summertime imagery ... and is just too short for my liking.

And that my friends brings us right back to the initial question, and my favorite bench on the boardwalk, regarding the importance of this body of work ... The Promise is what it is, it’s up to you to take from it any and all of what moves you, and after all that’s the real thrill of music in the first place. But hearing Bruce lay out these numbers, some familiar, some new, certainly gives one pause to sit back and consider what might have been, and perhaps spark you to listen to those early recordings with a new set of ears, and a deeper appreciation for the work and emotion of Bruce Springsteen. There are a couple of killer numbers here that I’ll slide into my iPod, and program into my disc player, but for the most part there’s nothing earth shattering to be found, it all feels really comfortable, as if theses tracks have been forever playing in my head, or perhaps like I've recently discovered a Springsteen album I overlooked for some reason ... though having heard this release, I wouldn’t want to be without it.

*** The Fun Facts: If you've never visited Eric Meola's studio, you certainly should, he's responsible for the album art here, along with a huge number of other blinded by the light photos of Bruce. Of course my first question to hime was, "Is that really Bruce driving?" To which he responded, "Yes." Then asked, "What colour was the Galaxie 500?" With the answer being, "Red." He went on to say, "It's a grand sweeping photograph with drama in the mountains and skies, with the car seeming to flash white light from its position dead centre of the vanishing point. It was taken one afternoon on a long dirt road off Highway 80, I asked Bruce to drive straight at the camera as ominous clouds from a late summer storm began to form overhead.”

Review by Jenell Kesler