Songs For Your Day

In 1973, Bruce Springsteen decided that, not only was he going to release one of the most acclaimed debut albums of the era–an album which drew lyrical comparisons to Bob Dylan; which was catapulted along by Vincent Lopez’s inspired drumming and Harold Wheeler’s light-fingered, barroom-joyous piano playing–but that he would also, eight months later, release his sophomore effort, The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle.  Arguably The Boss’s best album, and by far one of the best albums in Rock n’ Roll, it continues along the same track as Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J. while upping the ante with flawless incorporations of jazz, and even classical, piano.

Vini Lopez is still around, though he would leave the band in 1974, and replacing Wheeler on keys was David Sancious, who actually lived on E Street.  The highlight of the album is its three-song (of seven total) second side, where “Incident on 57th Street,” “Rosalita (Come Out Tonight),” and “New York City Serenade,” blend seamlessly to form one of the most incredible suites of music ever recorded.

“Incident” is a story song like “Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts” is a story song, but with a big difference: whereas Dylan sings like he could have come from anywhere, and indeed did all he could to cultivate that image, Springsteen’s song is colored with Jersey-tinted sunglasses.  The moment Spanish Johnny drives in from the underworld, the listener is keenly aware of a Setting, evinced equally by the lyrics as by the music.  Sancious’s piano is eternally compelling, and Lopez’s drumming seems just barely reined in from the wilds of the swamps of Jersey (to which it will be re-released as soon as we get to “Rosalita”).

After seven minutes of traveling with Spanish Johnny while he tries selling his heart to the heart girls over on Easy Street, the song closes out with Sancious playing what I, a non-music reading person, assume to be descending scales (?); we are then launched, with no chance for tie-straightening, into a manic, wide-grinned recount from Bruce to Rosie about just how much damn fun they’re gonna have if she would only come out tonight.  After all, says The Boss, “I just want to be your lover, ain’t no liar / Rosalita, you’re my stone desire.”  It’s a character driven song even more so than “Incident,” populated by the likes of Little Dynamite and Little Gun, Jack the Rabbit and Weak Knees Willie, Sloppy Sue and Big Bones Billie.  My favorite part is Bruce’s acknowledgement of Rosalita’s parents’ distaste for this young rock n’ roller she seems to love:

Now I know your mama she don’t like me ’cause I play in a rock and roll band
And I know your daddy he don’t dig me but he never did understand
Your papa lowered the boom he locked you in your room
I’m comin’ to lend a hand
I’m comin’ to liberate you, confiscate you, I want to be your man
Someday we’ll look back on this and it will all seem funny

Bruce here is on top vocal form.  He backs off a little on the vocal velocity to basically shout a whispered plea, but when the tempo kicks back in with the opening of the next verse (“Tell him this is his last chance to get his daughter in a fine romance / because the record company, Rosie, just gave me a big advance”) he just lets it loose.  I always felt like scream-rock bands could have taken notes from The Boss.  When his vocals get loud and scratchy, it’s with pure emotion; it never feels like an affectation.

Eventually, though, the reckless energy of the early night must end.  What follows is a solo walk through empty streets, “New York City Serenade,” the kind of song to which you need to devote ten minutes of every night drive you take.  It’s almost indescribable.  Both inspirational and haunting, it claims my complete attention every time I listen to it.  It is epic, a concrete example of the maxim Bruce sings early on in the song; indeed, the entire album is: “Walk tall, or, baby, don’t walk at all.”  He’s singing, he’s singing.