Boss hog

Tracks gives us the real Bruce

by Ted Drozdowski

"Born in the U.S.A." was an artistic misstep. I said that back in 1984 when the tune zoomed up the charts into the Top 10, and I still believe it today. Sure, that hit power-slammed Bruce Springsteen through the goalposts of American iconography, making him the last of our great corn-fed superstar rockers (so far). But it also damned itself through over-production and Springsteen's un-ironic performance. His first-person account of a lost-soul Vietnam veteran may have been intended as a poignant reminder of the toll the war took even on those who came home physically intact -- but it played into the hands of Republicans with its chorus: thunderclap drums and synth-trumpets driving Springsteen's cheerleader repetition of "Born in the U.S.A." It was a fuckin' campaign theme ripe for the plucking by any jingoistic sonuvabitch who came along.

Of course, when they did pluck, Bruce protested and the sonuvabitches relented. But for me, it was a mistake that still curdles my guts every time I hear it. Bums me out, too, because our vets and Bruce both deserved better. The production and arrangement are textbook examples of factory-like hitmaking from that time -- as if Bruce and his handlers knew they could drive this one home with a nice layer of gloss. The Born in the U.S.A. album, however, also yielded the subtle, poignant performances "Downbound Train" and "I'm on Fire," both of which ring with the emotional depth the title track should have possessed. If the Reagan/Bush machine hadn't made such an easy play for "Born in the U.S.A.," those two numbers would have made Bruce's artistic fumble bearable.

One reason I'm pleased about the release of the new 66-song, four-CD set Bruce Springsteen: Tracks (Columbia) is that it includes a previously unreleased version of "Born in the U.S.A." recorded in 1982 for Springsteen's acoustic masterpiece Nebraska. And this bare-bones -- just Bruce and his guitar -- take of the song supports every goddamned thing I've been saying about the hit version for years. Sure, without the bombast we might not have had Bruce the legend; but now we at least have "Born in the U.S.A." the song that indisputably, sensitively, and finally says what it means.

For Springsteen fans like me, who have found much of his work with his full-tilt electric bands overblown, his singing forced to an emotion-drained shout by the sheer volume of his big-ensemble rock numbers, this box of Bruce that hit stores last week is a balm. Fifty-six of these tunes are either songs Springsteen never found room for on albums or demos/acoustic versions of tunes that got brasher treatments when originally released. Most of the first -- and best -- two discs are acoustic, a setting in which the humanity of his lyrics runs uncluttered and for which his voice is better suited. Those discs cover 1972 to 1983, his formative decade as a working songwriter and musician. There are gems like his demos of "It's Hard To Be a Saint in the City" and "Growin' Up." There's also empty shit like "Bishop Danced" ("Bishop danced with a thumbscrew woman/Did a double-quick back flip and slid across the floor/The Catholic traffic flowed freely 'cross the river/And fiddlestick fiddled quick out the front door") and plenty more third-rate Tom Waits where that came from.

The third disc is cliché Bruce -- full-band material with overblown bridges and big chords and hoarse vocals that just occasionally hit the mark but will nevertheless delight most Springsteen fans. It's all unreleased stuff from the Born in the U.S.A. and Tunnel of Love sessions of '82 through '87. And I'd argue that Springsteen was wise to leave these on the shelves save for "Lucky Man," a dark gambler's tale set to a bad-ass kick-drum beat with sizzling, distorted voice-box guitar that's full of gritty mojo and groove. It sounds far more experimental and dangerous than anything he's put on an album.

The final CD embraces '89 to '98, from Human Touch on past his Phil Ochs-haunted The Ghost of Tom Joad. And this stuff starts ringing right about five cuts from the end, with the sweet, slow love song "Happy Surfaces." But even that's tainted by synth "pads" -- as the filler lines of synthesizer that trail too many of his lyrics are rightly called in the biz. It's a cheap sonic sweetener that Springsteen has used far too often on his electric recordings.

The most recent tune, this August's recording "Gave It a Name," is one of the set's most compelling. In sharp, simple lyrics Springsteen talks about the ugliness that's often coiled in men's hearts. But the best is "Brothers Under the Bridge," a kind of sequel to "Born in the U.S.A." that closes the box. Springsteen performed the number on his Ghost of Tom Joad tour. Sung simply in comfortably loping cadence, it's the kind of quietly eloquent first-person tale on which his early reputation was built. The homeless narrator could well be the protagonist of "Born" after the last of his bravado's been stripped, when his corrosive wartime experience has finally eaten to the depths of his soul. Yet he's still human, still feeling, and still hanging on even though he's living his observation that "One minute you're right there . . . then something slips." Hell, when you play it back-to-back with Tracks' acoustic version of "Born," it is the same guy. And 15 years later, Bruce has finally told his story the right way.