Atlantic Records originally billed Bruce as "The next Bob Dylan," and songs like this might be why. The original off of Bruce's first and quite possibly best album, Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J. is an emotional powerhouse driven by a gut wrenching piano performance by David Sancious. The album is a piano driven one itself, as Bruce was the only guitarist at the time (Van Zandt didn't join on guitar until Born to Run). Many mainstreamers may associate Bruce with guitar rock, as that image of him and his Tele is pretty much seared into our minds at this point, but that's a fallacy. His best songs have always been piano driven in my opinion. That's not to say that the guitar work isn't stellar, Van Zandt and Nils Lofgrin are amazing players in their own way, but they're no bigger than any other part of the band.
The live version of this song from Springsteen live at Hammersmith Odeon, 1975, is simply the truth. This is Rock n' Roll. This is the power that Bruce Springsteen holds. The man is his music, and his music makes him the man he is. He's never been a drinker, never done drugs. A fucked up father can be credited for those choices. Springsteen was so fearful he'd become his father, and slip into serious mental instability if he even tried any kind of substance, that he stayed as far away form them as he could. And nothing in the world comes close to being as powerful as a musician who is his work. His sadness, depression, and trouble fueled his masterpieces as they ate him up inside. It's a double edged sword, but without the pain, there would be no Boss. Without the Boss, there would be a serious deficit in the musical landscape. It's Post Impressionism without Van Gogh.
American Troops and War have always played a recurring role in Springsteen's work. The treatment of homebound troops has been a sore spot for Bruce. He has always had something to say about it, and rightfully so. This is one of the first examples of this topic breaching his work, and an epic one at that. The first verse deals with "The Ragamuffin Gunner" who returns home from the Vietnam War, and of the three insanely crafted verses, it always hit me the hardest.
And everybody's wrecked on Main Street from drinking unholy blood
Sticker smiles sweet as the gunner breathes deep, his ankles caked in mud
And I say "Hey gunner man that's quicksand, that's quicksand that ain't mud
Have you thrown your senses to the war or did you lose then down in the flood."
That was the line I remembered the first time I heard the song, and that's the line I hear to this day above all others. I can't put my finger on it, but you've got to hear him sing it. Each verse contains a quoted line, either from another character in the song, or as in this one, Bruce himself. The sparse arrangement is like a stage light on the lyrics. In fact, I would implore anyone to read the lyrics to this song without the music. It's just as powerful. And doing so, I think anyone can see the individual talent that Bruce possessed with words. He was as masterful a craftsman as Dylan, and as wild a frontman as James Brown. I still stick by my assertion that those who "don't like Bruce," just haven't heard and seen enough of him yet.
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