RADIO HANNIBAL

Top 101 Songs Of Bruce Springsteen, A Countdown, In Document Form

Leave it to another fan of this countdown, compiled and written by JT of Perth, Australia (follow him at @thesonofnoone on Twitter), to convert the entire 101 song writings into a word document.  It's 88 pages in length.

The guy who converted it is planning on binding it, filling an iPod Nano with all the songs and giving it to his girlfriend. 

Top 101 Songs Of Bruce Springsteen, a document

 

Top 101 Songs Of Bruce Springsteen, A Countdown, The Complete List

Here's the condensed list of the 101 Songs as chosen by our contributor, JT.  Perusing the list is one thing.  Reading the entries for each song is where it's at.

101 I Wanna Marry You
100 Bring On the Night
99 The Fuse
98 Be True
97 Loose Ends
96 None But the Brave
95 You're Missing
94 Two Faces
93 Land of Hope and Dreams
92 You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch)
91 Held Up Without a Gun
90 Rendezvous
89 Tunnel of Love
88 My Hometown
87 Real World
86 Ramrod
85 Two Hearts
84 Factory
83 Merry Christmas Baby
82 Janey Don't You Lose Heart
81 I'm On Fire
80 Ain't Got You
79 Does This Bus Stop at 82nd St.?
78 Lost in the Flood
77 I'm a Rocker
76 O Mary Don't You Weep
75 Don't Look Back
74 Darkness on the Edge of Town
73 Night
72 Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out
71 The E Street Shuffle
70 Mansion on the Hill
69 Where the Bands Are
68 Happy
67 How Can a Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live?
66 State Trooper
65 The Hitter
64 Youngstown
63 Growin' Up
62 Independence Day
61 Candy's Room
60 For You
59 Fire
58 Roulette
57 Stolen Car
56 Blinded By the Light
55 My Love Will Not Let You Down
54 Frankie
53 Downbound Train
52 Back In Your Arms
51 Reason to Believe
50 Take 'Em As They Come
49 Protection
48 Cadillac Ranch
47 Sherry Darling
46 Wild Billy's Circus Story
45 Johnny Bye-Bye
44 Follow That Dream
43 This Hard Land
42 Losin' Kind
41 Restless Nights
40 The Ties That Bind
39 The Promised Land
38 Something in the Night
37 Paradise
36 Point Blank
35 Kitty's Back
34 Badlands
33 My City of Ruins
32 All That Heaven Will Allow
31 It's Hard to Be a Saint in the City
30 Seaside Bar Song
29 I Wanna Be With You
28 Brilliant Disguise
27 Living Proof
26 Meeting Across the River
25 Prove It All Night
24 Drive all Night
23 Thundercrack
22 Because the Night
21 Johnny 99
20 If I Should Fall Behind
19 Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)
18 Atlantic City
17 Tougher Than the Rest
16 The Price You Pay
15 She's the One
14 Jungleland
13 The River
12 Spirit in the Night
11 Wreck on the Highway
10 Fade Away
09 4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)
08 Valentine's Day
07 Born to Run
06 New York City Serenade
05 Incident on 57th Street
04 Backstreets
03 Highway Patrolman
02 Racing in the Street
01 Thunder Road

 

Top 101 Songs Of Bruce Springsteen, A Countdown Pt. 33

Before we get down to the top three entries in this Bruce Springsteen countdown I just wanted to say a few words.  Our contributor. JT, started this project back in December and as it's been noted was done in real time...meaning he wrote it as he went along.  The list was pretty much in order before the start but I was never privy to a look at it.  I've anticipated each new entry as much as you.

During the countdown he even took a holiday to the United States for the better part of a month.  A pilgrimage to the land of Bruce as it were.  He's mentioned it in his writings.  In fact, what really sets this apart from other such undertakings is the personal bent he's incorporated into each entry.  His stories, sometimes amusing, sometimes heartbreaking, always poignant, elevated this countdown to another realm.  And the fact that it is penned by an Aussie in his late 20's is totally refreshing.  

I am so happy he allowed me to publish the work here on Radio Hannibal.  I knew, as a Cleveland based blog, that there would be much interest in anything Springsteen related. 

Early on I also knew that this project had to be read by as many fans of Springsteen as possible.  To that end, I have even tried to gain the attention of the Bruce himself by having it brought to the awareness of the folks at John Landau's(his manager)office through a friend with close connections.  Are they reading it like all of us?  Has Bruce himself read it?  I have no idea but in my mind I imagine so.

You can read the complete countdown by clicking on "Springsteen 101 Songs" on the left margin under Categories.  If you know of others who may be fans please pass this along.  JT's passionate work deserves as many readers as possible.

So without further adieu, here are the top three picks in this Top 101 Soings Of Bruce Springsteen.

This countdown is being compiled and written in present time by JT of Perth, West Australia. Follow him on Twitter @thesonsofnoone.

3. Highway Patrolman

Get it on: Nebraska (1982) and Live in Dublin (2007)

There’s only ever really been one good friend of mine who shared similar musical tastes to me. We bonded over a mutual love of Led Zeppelin, Neil Young and others. We differed on Springsteen however. I was the fanatic, he the skeptic. He was like so many others in that he’d only heard those songs on the radio (namely ‘Born in the USA’ and ‘Dancing in the Dark’, coincidentally two songs which you won’t find anywhere on this list) and didn’t think there was any other element to the guy. Unlike so many others of my circle of friends, he was willing to hear me (and Bruce) out. He gave me a chance to prove his own instincts and opinions wrong. Pretty admirable stuff.

Coincidentally, what I tried to do to with Springsteen, he tried to do to me with Tom Waits. Waits was and is to him what Springsteen is to me. Needless to say I came around, but it took a lot longer for me to finally want to listen to Waits.

Anyway, I loaned him everything I had gathered up until the time we met. There were disagreements, for sure (he loved Greetings From Asbury Park, NJ and Darkness on the Edge of Town, wasn’t too keen on The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle or Born to Run. Yeah, I still scratch my head at that one), but since he quickly became a fan, what did it matter which songs and albums he became a fan of?

In the end, he was the one who kept on pushing Nebraska on me. I knew the album was good, but he knew it was great, and wouldn’t quit bugging me until I agreed. So to Liam, I say thank you. Because without your pushing and prodding... I would never have listened to ‘Highway Patrolman’.

‘Highway Patrolman’ isn’t a song I can listen to at any time of any day. I don’t think I’d want to either. It’s the perfect song for a quiet night at home, not for driving down the highway with the stereo turned right up. It actually would seem to be the perfect song for those nights when you just can’t sleep. I’d love to get out of bed one night after hours of tossing and turning, walk down stairs, sit on the couch and put this on and just let it ring out.

The brotherly relationship at the heart of the song is what gets to me every single time I listen to the song. I’ve got one brother, and no other siblings. I wouldn’t at all say we have a complicated relationship, but we’re not best friends.. I still live here in Perth, he now lives with his wife in another city. Growing up, there were a bunch of families that we spent our time with. Each of these other families had at least two children, and I never thought to think it was weird that none of the kids I grew up with actually had a good relationship with their brothers or sisters. It wasn’t as though they were at each others’ throats, it was just that we spent more time hanging around with the kids which were our own age than we did with our own siblings. As a result, I never thought it was normal for brothers and sisters to actually like each other.

Once I left school and my life moved on, I saw things for the way they really were. The relationships I have now with my closest friends are nothing compared to the relationships they have with their siblings. My wife has three sisters, and she loves and cares for them like I never thought possible. I’ll never get enough of sitting back and watching in awe how my wife interacts with her sisters. Yet there I am, still with the same relationship with my brother that I had as a child. Well, that’s not exactly true. In the past few years we’ve grown closer and have become much better friends. But I still feel as though my relationship with him pays the price of my naive childhood, where I thought it was normal to not have anything approaching a friendship with him.

Joe Roberts and Frank Roberts are brothers I can relate to. Not the criminal side, but the thought that although two brothers can be at the opposite of the spectrum, they’re still brothers. "Man turns his back on his family he ain't no friend of mine" rings so true with me that whenever I hear the line (and the song), my relationship with my brother is at the front of my mind. The thought that things could be better between us, and that I haven’t done nearly enough to improve our relationship. But then sometimes I think that hey, at least I’m not a cop chasing my brother over state lines, and that things could be much worse than they are.

The best bit: That the song was turned into a film. And not just any film, a damn fine film (The Indian Runner). How many songs can you say that about?

2. Racing in the Street

Get it on: Darkness on the Edge of Town (1978), Live 1975-85 (1986)

I grew up in a suburb of Perth that’s basically carved out of forest, and for the first 22 years of my life, I lived over the road from a national park. It’s the kind of town or suburb that you could drive past and not even know it’s there, but when you drive through it, you’re sure there’s no suburb that could beat its beauty.

I spent quite a few of my pre-school years with a girl named Skye. A year younger than me, we were in the same day care for years and we only lived a few streets from each other. Our parents were friends back then and we’d often spend time at their place, and they at ours. Times change, and they did back then. After about the age of five, I never saw much of Skye and our parents, although cordial when they saw each other, never maintained the friendship of the early 1980s. Nothing bad happened, times just change.

When I think of ‘Racing in the Street’, I think of Skye and her family. Why? Skye was killed sometime around 2000 when, as the passenger in a car, she was hit by a kid who was driving too fast  on streets not straight enough to sustain his elementary driving skills. Her death ruined her family. Her father, a towering and imposing man, became a shell of who he was. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t smiled since his daughter’s death and honestly, can you blame him?

‘Racing in the Street’ is the natural sequel to the Beach Boys’ ‘Don’t Worry Baby’. To me, it’s the progression of the mindset that placing one’s life in an automobile is a path to a lonely existence. You may have the thrill of the engine’s roar, but at the heart of things, you’re cutting yourself off to those around you. I’m not sure that’s what Springsteen was trying to say, but I find it hard to believe that a song so melancholic and filled with such sombre lyrics could be glorifying a racer’s existence. To me, the song mourns those who can’t see past their cars, those who will never let their life move past their mechanic adolescence. It highlights the flipside of that life, and just like ‘Don’t Worry Baby’, it’s fully aware that for every rev-head who gets behind a wheel, there’s another who can’t bear to think of what could happen when things go wrong.

"But now there's wrinkles around my baby's eyes
And she cries herself to sleep at night
When I come home the house is dark
She sighs "Baby did you make it all right"
She sits on the porch of her daddy's house
But all her pretty dreams are torn
She stares off alone into the night
With the eyes of one who hates for just being born"

I haven’t ever met a Springsteen fan who doesn’t adore this song. The live version from the Live 1975-85 box is ‘Racing in the Street’ played to perfection. The crowd rises at the start of the song, acknowledging that "hey, we love this song" before quietening down. Springsteen has never been in finer voice (IMHO) than on the 1980-81 tours which accompanied The River, and he doesn’t let us down here. But even still, the power of the song resides in the fingers of Danny Federici and Roy Bittan. I listen to this song one day and I’m mesmerised by the swirling organ, on other days I can’t hear anything except Bittan’s piano. The days where you hear everything together are the days where you feel as though you’re that little step closer to heaven. The E Street Band, even with Clarence Clemons relegated to percussion duties, have never had a more perfect three minutes than the ending to this version. For three minutes they build from a whisper to a cacophony of controlled, powerful noise and I can’t possibly think that music gets any better.

Yet, I didn’t like the song to begin with. I thought it was just a bridging song to the more rocking numbers on Darkness on the Edge of Town. Like the suburb I grew up in, I flicked past the song as though I never knew it was there. But I stopped and opened myself up to its wonders and I’m now convinced that there could never possibly be anything more beautiful.

The Best Bit: Everything that happens after the vocals finish. It’s the kind of coda that could go for twenty minutes and you’d still think it were too short. It could last forever and I’d honestly be happy.

1. Thunder Road

Get it on: Born to Run (1975), Live 1975-85 (1986), and others.

Where do I start? I owe more to this song than any one man could ever owe to a piece of music, least of all one that was nearly 25 years old by the first time it graced this listener’s ears. I listen to ‘Thunder Road’ and I know that I’m listening to my favourite song of all time. Simple as that.

Let me depict a day for you. I don’t know the date, but it was the day I first heard Born to Run. I bought the album and then headed to my Dad’s office to help him out with a few things. By this stage I’d already bought five or so of Springsteen’s other albums, but held out on buying this because it was more expensive than the rest and I was (and still probably am) a bit of a cheapskate. I was literally shaking with anticipation about listening to the album. I’d never been like that before and I definitely haven’t since.

After all, I was about to listen to something that history had already judged to be a masterpiece, so what did my opinion matter? Well, it mattered a great deal to me. I needed this album to not be as good as it was supposed to be. I needed it to be better. I needed my life to be changed. I expected nothing less than that. So, you’ve got a good idea what my hopes were.

Normally I unwrap the plastic from CDs as soon as I get in my car, and I then spend about 10 minutes looking at the albums, building up a sound in my head as to what I think the album is supposed to sound like. I couldn’t do that with Born to Run. I knew that as soon as I unwrapped the album I’d need to hear it. Not having a CD player in my car at that stage, I was probably afraid that I’d become the first person in history to carjack somebody with the view of listening to a Bruce Springsteen album. I got home, and unwrapped the album. Sat back and got ready to listen.

I can’t recall my immediate impressions. I don’t think I had any, actually. I just kept going back and listening to ‘Thunder Road’, over and over again. I must have listened to the song 20 times that afternoon. I was mesmerised by the song. It was unlike anything I’d ever heard in my life. There was no chorus, only one long verse. Or was it one long chorus without a verse? Either way, I wasn’t sure what I was listening to was actually real.

Bruce Springsteen spends ‘Thunder Road’ singing about a trip to the promised land. He wanted a way out and a better life. Maybe he was singing about no one, maybe he was singing about his love life, or maybe he was singing about his professional disappointments to that point. Maybe he was singing about all three, and maybe he was just singing a song. It doesn’t matter.

I can’t talk about ‘Thunder Road’ without spending my time talking about the impact the song had on me that day and still has on me to this day. I’ve never listened to the song and felt anything less than inspired. I sit down and imagine what it would take to create something so momentous and I come up drawing blanks. It simultaneously makes me feel worthless and invigorated. I’d even go so far to say that it’s probably made me forget to breathe on occasions, even if for just a few seconds.

Some may think that I’m exaggerating my descriptions or that one man shouldn’t feel anything near what I feel for 'Thunder Road' for any song. To them I’ll say that that while some people may cherish their gardens and others may spend their days fawning over an automobile, I spend my days searching for the perfect song. I don’t think the perfect song exists, and I’m not sure I actually want to find it, but I do know that in ‘Thunder Road’, Bruce Springsteen gives me a miniature slice of heaven, one that I’m glad is recognised as the brilliant song it is. But you know what? I wouldn’t care if no one else in the world liked the song (in fact I’d probably take some perverse satisfaction in it), I’d still continue to be at its mercy.

I’ve just spent hundreds of words trying to explain what this song means to me and I don’t think I could ever properly do that. ‘Thunder Road’ is my song. It lives inside me always. I know every word, every nuance of the song, yet it still sounds as fresh as it ever has. As the years pass and my attention turns to other things, the love I have for this song continues to grow.

I don’t think I even understand how special that really is.

I was convinced for years that there was no possibility that any song ever recorded could be any better than this. One day Sam Cooke’s ‘Bring it On Home to Me’ hit me like a ton of bricks and knocked ‘Thunder Road’ off its perch, but since it was a Sam Cooke song and the man’s immortal, I didn’t think Bruce would mind. But I know deep down that this isn’t how I really feel. I know that in my head and in my heart, ‘Thunder Road’ is the greatest song of all time.

The best bit: Really? I’m asking myself to choose one moment from my favourite song? I suck. There’s the solo, acoustic version which has never been released which takes the released version’s exuberant yet cautious optimism and leaves it as nothing but a plea. There’s the solo piano versions from 1975 which are simply remarkable. There’s any one of 1001 live versions where the crowd rises to a collective exuberance. But for me, I can’t go past the final portion of the song. It doesn’t matter which version we’re talking about. It’s poetry without words... cinema without pictures. I’m done trying to describe something that I could never describe. Just find it and listen to it. The whole song is a masterpiece.

Top 101 Songs Of Bruce Springsteen, A Countdown Pt. 32

This countdown is being compiled and written in present time by JT of Perth, West Australia. Follow him on Twitter @thesonsofnoone.

8. Valentine’s Day

Get it on: Tunnel of Love (1987)

This was the biggest shock for me. I was tabling the songs and ordering them into what would be the first draft of the final order and ‘Valentine’s Day’ appeared in the top ten. "You’ve got to be fucking kidding me" I thought to myself, and as I started to trawl through the list and the songs around it I began a two-hour process of seeing if it actually deserved its spot at #8 in my list of the 101 Greatest Bruce Springsteen Songs.

No spoilers, but it kept its spot. To this day, I don’t know if I can completely justify my decision. I don’t know why I have to (after all, it’s my list and I don’t claim to be anything approaching an authority on the matter. I’m just a guy who loves the tunes and has verbal diarrhea when placed in front of a keyboard), but I feel as though I must.

So I’ll give it a go.

‘Valentine’s Day’ gets overlooked a great deal because it’s the final song on Tunnel of Love. Hell, I didn’t listen to the song for about my first 100 listens of the album. I was too busy listening to the first half of the album and once I got through that and through ‘Brilliant Disguise’, I couldn’t bare to sit through ‘One Step Up’ and ‘When You’re Alone’ and if those songs were any indication, then ‘Valentine’s Day’ couldn’t be any better, especially since I was to learn that it had never been played live (something which has since been rectified on Springsteen’s 2005 tour). So I skipped the song. Repeatedly. Actually, skipped isn’t the word to use. Ignored would be better. I ignored the song.

Then, as luck would have it, it showed up one random day when my iTunes playlist was on shuffle. I had over 40,000 songs on my playlist at that stage, so with odds of 1/40,000 it seems as though someone may have been trying to tell me something. "Listen to the damn song, FOOL!!"

Not sitting at my computer I listened to the song and did a double take. I was sure it had to be some bootleg cut or something. Maybe one of the songs on Tracks that I’d neglected. It shocked me when I found out it was ‘Valentine’s Day’. Best surprise I’d had in a long while.

So, the surprise factor means it’s got a special spot in my heart. But don’t let sentiment alone fool you, it’s a fine song. One of the finest in fact.

It’s the perfect song for 5pm on a beautiful Spring day.

With the tone of Tunnel of Love being somewhat down, ‘Valentine’s Day’ arrives like a breath of fresh air. Bruce’s bassline bounces through the song like a casual stroll. Then there’s the fragile acoustic guitar flourishes in the background and the synth he takes straight from the Born in the USA playbook. Each of them combine to form this brilliant track.

Then there’s Bruce himself. Again, it’s the optimism of the track which wins you over. Not only is it melodically grand, it’s the lyrics that you can’t help but be drawn in by. You listen to the words and hear the man sing "if you die in your dreams, you really die in your bed", and one could think that it’s another downer. But to me, it’s anything but.

‘Valentine’s Day’, to me, is the promise of a better day. That at the end of every shitty day, there’s always a sunrise. I’ve had a lot of shitty days in my life and after the majority of them, I wanted to be made to feel anything but the feeling I had. I wanted to know the feeling that when I woke up the next morning, the previous day was but a faded memory.

Above all of that though, ‘Valentine’s Day’ is to me a song about the promise of a better life. That wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, there’s always hope for things to be better. And I think I like that. 

The best bit: It has to be that bassline. It’s the perfect bassline for a weekend walk when you’ve got nowhere else you need to be. It swings back and forth and just carries you along with it, making you forget where you are and what you’re doing. Well, at least it does for me.

7. Born to Run

Get it on: Born to Run (1975), Live 1975-85 (1986), Chimes of Freedom EP (1988), Greatest Hits (1995), Live in New York City (2001), The Essential Bruce Springsteen (2003)

Long before I was a Bruce Springsteen fan, I went through that rite of passage which seemingly every teenage or post-teenage male music fan goes through - my Zeppelin phase. Some people think I’m a Springsteen nut? Well it’s nothing compared to my Zeppelin kick, which lasted probably two or three years. The first bootlegs I ever got were Zeppelin tapes, and I damn near wore those things out. I used to sit there and have debates over the best version of ‘Since I’ve Been Loving You’, and coming up with theories that Robert Plant’s voice never recovered from his 1972 tour to Japan, when they happened to visit or play in Hiroshima. Stuff like that.

But it didn’t last. Doesn’t mean I’m not a Zeppelin fan any more, just that when a band you love only releases 70+ songs in their lifetime, you’re not going to have the same longevity probably as someone like Springsteen or Neil Young, who’ve released hundreds. But my Zeppelin affair was intense. I’d completely immerse myself in their albums and not listen to anything else. I became a snob in the worst way... deride anyone who thought differently to me, and scoffed at anything which I deemed to be a ‘popular’ opinion on Zeppelin, including anyone who extolled the virtues of ‘Stairway to Heaven’. I had the theory that anything popular was to be automatically red-flagged as crap, and should be ignored. I thought that since I knew every single bit of that song, that it was too familiar to be considered great any more. But I was wrong.

One day, toward the end of my Zeppelin phase I sat down and listened to ‘Stairway to Heaven’ with a set of headphones on and I tell you it was remarkable. Everything in the song seemed so alive, so vibrant. I couldn’t find fault. Even though I could have told you that at the 3:40 mark, John Bonham’s drums would kick in, I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) be able to tell you how powerful that drum sound was. And even though I’d heard it a thousand times, I wasn’t prepared for how brilliantly melodic, and how perfect Jimmy Page’s guitar solo was (and still is).

So I guess what I’m saying is that even though you think you’ve heard something so many times that you think you’ll never hear anything new or exciting in the song again, think again. And that’s the approach I take to ‘Born to Run’, and honestly, it’s an easy approach to have. I’ve never felt as though ‘Born to Run’ was stale in any way, shape or form. Sure, there’s six songs I prefer, but that shouldn’t be taken as a slight on ‘Born to Run’.

It’s a remarkable song. I agree with Dave Marsh that it’s memorable more for it’s music than for its words, even though the words are also remarkable. The music pummels you so much that you can’t help but sit there helpless as it enters your head. I don’t think there’s been a time when I’ve listened to the song where the main riff hasn't remained in my head long after the song’s finished.

But I feel pity for Bruce Springsteen. As much as Born in the USA is his most commercially successful album, this here is his most popular song. And it’s tied around his ankle like a ball and chain to a convict. He can’t escape the song. He created it now he must live his life with it. Even when he tried to escape the anthemic nature of it and turn it into an acoustic gem in 1988, he still managed to make it into a sing-along. The song is him and the two are forever linked. Like a conversation about John Lennon invariably mentions Paul McCartney, like Prince and the word ‘purple’, Bruce Springsteen can never escape ‘Born to Run’. And as fine a song as it undoubtedly is, when you’ve released hundreds of songs, you’d hate to have one of those hundreds be what ‘Born to Run’ is to Springsteen.

All of that pity, however, would be much worse if the song we were talking about weren’t as great as ‘Born to Run’. There isn’t an occasion that the playing of the song would fail to lift whatever audience were hearing it. It’s the anthem of a lifetime... the anthem of Springsteen’s lifetime. And it’s a worthy addition to the top ten of this countdown.

The best bit: It’s the first time he sings "baby we were Born to Run". That melody never fails to inspire.

6. New York City Serenade
5. Incident on 57th Street

Get them on: The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle (1973)

There’s this movie that has to be made one day. It’s about a boy and a girl. They’re obviously in love but are tied to their hometown. They’ve got friends and family there and their lives are safe. They could live out an existence that they might be happy with... an existence that everyone around in their lives would be happy with them living. But there’s this nagging thought at the back of their heads that their lives lie on a different path to what everyone wants for them.

Anyway, they go through all these great scenes throughout the film and you never know their real names. Their friends have got a thousand names for each of them... there’s Puerto Rican Jane, Rosalita and Sandy for the girl... Spanish Johnny and Billy (but not Wild Billy) for the boy. But they’re the same person. That I have no doubt over (although I’m fully prepared to be proven wrong on this one).

The film takes place over the one night. It kicks off with the macho boys making their way into the one place where they reign supreme before the boy sees the girl of his dreams. He keeps a bit of his juvenile mentality when he pleads with her to be his... she resists but you know she’s interested in him too. Their lives are interwined. As they night goes on they meet their returned friend from the city. Her name’s Kitty. They thought they’d be angry at her for deserting them, but as soon as they see her, they’re overjoyed that she’s back. Then there’s the scene when their good friend, Wild Billy, has the hanging on intently as he tells them the stories they know can’t be true, but they hang on his every word anyway. And things seem idyllic. Things seem easy. But things are never quite as easy as they appear to be.

Trouble brews. The boys have to prove their manhood, whatever the cost. And things are serious. This isn’t just a fight where knuckles are bared, this is real. But the girl pleads with the boy not to get into too much trouble... "Spanish Johnny you can leave me tonight but just don’t leave me alone". Things heat up before the cops break up the action and everyone retreats. Johnny goes home but the night is still young, and he yearns for action. He looks at his girl, leaves her for the night and promises for a better life.

And it’s the better life he wants. He doesn’t want the life of walking the streets with the same guys he’s walked the streets with all his life. He knows that even though the city is within reach, that it’s another world away, a world he so desperately wants for him and his girl. And he makes his choice. He wants to get away from the life he leads, he wants to get anywhere but where he is. He makes a bold play for the girl, but her parents refuse. But you know he’s not going to give up that easily. He pleads with the girl, despite the reservations of her parents. "I'm comin' to liberate you, confiscate you, I want to be your man".

And he gets the girl. The final scene of the movie is their new life in New York City. Even though he tempts her with a cafe in San Diego, it’s New York City where their future lies. By this stage it’s midnight and the new day’s sun will soon be on the horizon. There’s a whole new raft of characters to be found in the city. There’s the Jazz Man... the fish lady, but honestly, there’s only two people on those streets. The boy and the girl, and they glide their way down the New York City streets, hand in hand walking away from the camera, their whole lives in front of them as the Jazz man walks away in another direction, softly singing to their future.

The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle is so far and away my favourite album of all time. I don’t think anything’s ever come close to the title before or since. I can’t even sit here and tell you what my favourite album of all time was before this. Bruce Springsteen has made grander albums, and has albums with more great songs, but none of them resonate with me like this album does.

And at its heart is a second side which is truly remarkable. I’ve already spoken about ‘Rosalita’, but really, it’s ‘Incident on 57th Street’ and ‘New York City Serenade’ which leave the most lasting impression on my ears. ‘Incident...’ is a more hopeful version of ‘Jungleland’. It’s ‘Jungleland’ before things went bad... while ‘New York City Serenade’ is simply a remarkable song... a true showcase for the talents of David Sancious, who not only lays down the opening piano, but also gives the song its breathtaking string arrangements.

It still boggles my mind to think there aren’t more people in the world who know and love these two songs as much as I do. They leave such an impression on me with each and every listen that I can’t fathom anyone having an opinion that differs from mine - one of completely and utter surrender to the powers of each of the songs.

The best ‘New York City Serenade’ bit: Those opening piano notes. Especially those from about the 1:18 mark which help bring Bruce in. Just beautiful.
The best ‘Incident on 57th Street’ bit: Bruce’s final words in the song, an impassioned cry of "we may have to walk until the daylight maybe". He’s giving so much that he can’t even finish the word ‘maybe’. He then brings it home with some great guitar. But it’s that last line which leaves you breathless, just like the singer.

4. Backstreets

Get it on: Born to Run (1975) and Live 1975-85 (1986)

Note: This write-up was written some time ago, in mid-air over the USA.

It says something about the three songs above ‘Backstreets’ that this song, this masterpiece, is relegated to fourth spot. Even as I type this, there’s a war raging within myself, with parts of my heart, mind and soul outraged at its low placement. Then there’s the other parts of me, understanding and sharing some of the outrage, but knowing that ahead of ‘Backstreets’ are three other songs which have done nothing wrong, three other songs which fully deserve their podium finish.

So even though it hasn’t made the grade, even though it didn’t getting enough votes within myself to make the top three, there’s nothing wrong with ‘Backstreets’. The song, like those yet to come, is perfection. There isn’t a single flaw I can find within it, and even though there are those songs where the inherent flaws add to the beauty, grace and power of them... the beauty, grace and power of ‘Backstreets’ lies in its perfection. I mean, have you ever listened to Gary Tallent’s bass playing in this song? He plays the bass on ‘Backstreets’ like Keith Moon played the drums. Listen to it originally and it just sounds as though it’s random notes (or beats) being played, however when you get right down to it, you notice that sure, there’s lots of notes but not once does he miss the beat. Controlled chaos at its best.

I can’t sit here and write about ‘Backstreets’ in regards to any other song, Springsteen or otherwise, because there isn’t anything like this out there. Sure, some aspiring songwriter may have claimed that there’s a song on their album that is ‘Backstreets-esque’ but putting aside all their good intentions, I can tell you that’s bullshit. Without even hearing the song, I can dismiss it out of hand. That’s not to say that it isn’t a good song, just that I know it isn’t as good as ‘Backstreets’. There isn’t much that is.

Honestly, the song still astounds me every time I hear it. And believe me, each and every listen is six and a half minutes of full concentration. There’s no way that I could ever listen to ‘Backstreets’ with only a half-hearted interest. It may sound overwrought, but for those six and a half minutes, ‘Backstreets’ is the most important thing in my life.

I’m typing this on a flight from New York City to Los Angeles, and while in NYC I did the whole "go to Central Park, walk around and see the sights etc" thing that’s a must when in the city. It was a warm day last Friday (today’s Tuesday) and even though the heat was there, there was still some ice rink operating with a bunch of school kids skating ("why aren’t these fucking kids in school??" was my wife’s frequent question. I had no answer). Anyway, they had some random soundtrack playing" we heard some Black Eyed Peas, heard some Creedence, heard some other stuff. And then ‘Backstreets’ started playing. I was about 25 metres away from the rink, with muffled speakers, but I could tell those opening piano notes even if I were almost deaf.

I stood next to the rink, and being the complete whack-job that I am, I just stood there. As I said, I can’t do anything else when ‘Backstreets’ is on. I just have to stop and listen. Half-way through the song, someone turned it off. "They TURNED OFF THE BLOODY SONG" I thought to myself. I would have said something to someone, anyone, but I didn’t want to be that guy. I was so deflated. I’m sure if I told my wife about my outrage, she would’ve said something about it "just being a song" or "a song you’ve heard hundreds of times before" or "who cares?" and I would’ve loved it because I would have been able to say the following:

1) Yes, it’s a song. But it’s not just a song. "Just a song" is about other songs, not this one. It’s about the songs you wish you never heard again. It’s about the songs you wish you never heard in the first place. It’s not about ‘Backstreets’.

2) Yes, I’ve heard the song hundreds of times before, but I’ll never get to the stage where I’ve heard this song too many times. There isn’t a limit to one’s enjoyment of perfection. The very greatest songs stand up to repeated listens, and not just over a lifetime, but over a week, a day, an hour.

3) Who cares? Me. Yeah, I probably care too much, especially considering we’re talking about the song playing on muffled speakers at a Central Park ice rink inhabited by children who couldn’t care less about anything, least of all Bruce Springsteen. I don’t care if anyone else cares, but I care. I care greatly.

So that’s how utterly brilliant and mesmerising ‘Backstreets’ is. It’s a song that can make an incoherent fool out of me, even when on the holiday of a lifetime and someone turns the song off half the way through. I love my outrage, I love that I love the song so much that I’m outraged. There’s probably a dozen songs that I can think of at the moment which would have the same effect on me.

Now having said that, I couldn’t for the life of me give you a single reason why my reactions to the song are the way they are. There’s probably no need for me to do so, but I love so many parts of the song that there’s too many things for me to mention. There’s Max Weinberg’s drum beat for instance. How about Roy Bittan’s piano, or Bruce’s guitar (again with a guitar solo that serves to highlight nothing if not his underrated playing)? Each of them is sublime and are thrown into the melting pot to help make the song what it is. But it’s so much more than these things. It’s the words, the desperation in the vocals, it’s the whole damn song.

It’s perfection.

The best bit: "At night sometimes it seems you can hear the whole damn city crying. Blame it on the lies that killed us, blame it on the truth that ran us down. You can blame it all on me Terry, it don’t matter to me now. When the breakdown hit at midnight there was nothing left to say. I hated him then and I hated you when you went away." I listen to these words and I can’t honestly think of anything ever that the man has done better than this.

Top 101 Songs Of Bruce Springsteen, A Countdown Pt. 31

This countdown is being compiled and written in present time by JT of Perth, West Australia. Follow him on Twitter @thesonsofnoone.

10. Fade Away

Get it on: The River (1980)

So here we are, the top ten. It’s been a long road getting here and it’s been a trip that I’ve enjoyed taking. Listening and re-listening to each of the songs as I get my thoughts down has been far more rewarding than I thought it could ever be when I started on this task last December. It’s taken me so long to get this finished, that seasons have come and gone. Like the changing seasons, I feel as though I’ve changed a little bit as well. Certainly when I started the thread, I wasn’t intending to be as personal as I’ve been. Not that I mind being personal, I just didn’t realise how much of what I was going through or what I’ve been through related to some of the songs in question. For instance, the thoughts I wrote down for ‘Independence Day’ were completely unplanned and were the result of me sitting down at my work desk with the weight of a world of guilt upon my shoulders. Instead of putting those guilty feelings down here, I would have preferred to perhaps tell my father about them, but I didn’t. But those feelings needed to come out somehow, and with my countdown somehow up to ‘Independence Day’ I felt as though there were no better time for me to express what I was feeling.

And that’s what I’ve tried to do as often as possible. Because we’re not talking about random songs which you hear and only take a passing interest in, we’re talking about songs which hopefully incite similar emotions in you to what they do in me. The very best songs in the world are usually someone laying themselves bare for all to judge, and the very best Bruce Springsteen songs do just that. There’s 10 songs remaining and each of them is an expression or a plea. The songs are sung by a man who’s standing and laying all the cards on the table, screaming out loud with the fullest of conviction;

"This is who I am". "This is what I want".

Not enough people have the guts to stand up and say who they are, or what they want. People hide behind versions of themselves, afraid to be naked to the world. Perhaps Springsteen can’t express his feelings and emotions the way he’d want to except in song. I know that half of the things I’ve said in this thread are things that I would be mortified to say in front of those closest to me. The comfort of strangers allows me to write the things I’m afraid to say. And maybe Bruce Springsteen is just like me.

"Well now you say you've found another man who does things to you that I can't
And that no matter what I do it's all over now between me and you girl
But I can't believe what you say, No I can't believe what you say
'cause baby I don't wanna fade away"

‘Fade Away’ should reach into the soul of nearly everyone who hears it. Is there anyone among us who hasn’t felt the pain of seeing someone you once loved and knowing that there’s someone else who now gets to experience the things you once did? I’ve been through it too many times and I never want to recall those feelings, but listening to ‘Fade Away’ I do, and even though I can’t remember the girl’s smile, I still recall the hurt I felt when I first realised that she wouldn’t be mine again. You never want to fade away, and even though you eventually do and she fades away from your life as well, you know that the pain will always be there, lurking somewhere in your soul. The way I see it, it’s good to hold onto your pain. There’s no shame in that. Hold onto the pain, the hurt, and the bad times and it will make the good times all the more sweet when they arrive.

"Well now you say that you've made up your mind
it's been such a long, long time since it's been good with us
And that somewhere back along the line you lost your love and I lost your trust
Now rooms that once were so bright are filled with the coming night, darlin'"

The song’s full of things you’d call memorable. Danny Federici’s organ, or the final lines when Bruce sings "I don’t wanna fade away" and his vocals do just that. But here’s where I give Steve Van Zandt his due. It’s evident through interviews given, that The River holds a special place in Steve Van Zandt’s heart. It was the first Springsteen album where he was given official production credit and he’s all over the album, whether it’s his twelve-string chiming away in the background or his vocals.

He loves ‘Fade Away’. And why wouldn’t he? His backing vocals on stage sound a little much some times (only on the rarest of occasions), but here he sings his heart out. He sounds as though he was recorded on a separate microphone five metres behind Bruce, singing as though he was Springsteen’s shadow. He sings as though he knows that in a few years he will be gone from the E-Street Band, a band he made better.

So when Steve Van Zandt stood there singing "I don’t wanna fade away", part of me knows that he was singing to Bruce, letting him know that he couldn’t be his foil, his shadow forever. And I think that’s why the song means so much to Steve Van Zandt. Sure it wasn’t his song, but he poured his heart and soul into it.

"Now baby I don't wanna be just another useless memory holding you tight
Or just some other ghost out on the street to whom you stop and politely speak
when you pass on by vanishing into the night, left to vanish into the night"

‘Fade Away’ is Bruce Springsteen’s forgotten hit. Neglected on his greatest hits, not essential enough for The Essential Bruce Springsteen, ‘Fade Away’ actually got to #20 on the US charts in 1980. Maybe it wasn’t successful enough in the wake of ‘Hungry Heart’, maybe it wasn’t single material to begin with, but the song was left to vanish into the night. It was only played a handful of times and never between 1982 and 2005. Why? I have no idea. If I had created such a brilliant song I would want to stand atop the highest mountain and proclaim it as a badge of the highest honour.

As it stands, it’s my 10th favourite Bruce Springsteen song. Given how passionately I enjoy the man’s music, that’s an amazing honour to bestow. But trust me, the honour’s all mine. Every time I hear the song it sounds as fresh as the day I first heard it, never to fade away.

The best bit: It has to be the backing vocals of Steve Van Zandt, doesn’t it? They’re simply amazing and send an already amazing song soaring just that little bit higher.

9. 4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)

Get it on: The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle (1973), Live 1975-85 (1986)

I never knew how they did (and still do) it. I’d be at the bar with friends, sitting there aiming for anonymity... hoping that in my anonymity some gorgeous woman would walk up to me and would let me whisk her away for the night. Never happened. Turns out that sitting in the corner and nursing beer after beer doesn’t endear yourself to the beauties of the world. It wasn’t fair though. I’m a nice guy... hopefully not the ugliest guy in the world, and I’m genuinely interested in other people and what they have to say to me. Why wouldn’t they want to talk to me?

Well it turns out that a lot of women don’t want the ‘nice guy’. They want the bad guys who they think they can turn into good guys. They want the guys who saunter up to them in bars and whisper exactly what the girls want to hear into their ears. It’s those guys who I think of when I hear ‘4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)’. They’re the guys who walk up to women and tell them "love me tonight and I promise I’ll love you forever".

It’s the way Bruce practically whispers the song, not so much pleading but trying to convince. It just gets me a little bit jealous. I’m convinced that ‘4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)’ is ‘Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow’ told from the perspective of the male. In ‘Sandy’ it’s the guy trying to charm his way into the girl’s pants (if not heart), while The Shirelles sung of the female perspective.

If I need to give another reason why I love the song so much, it’s the way the song just oozes the vibe of what it must have been like down on the Jersey Shore in the early 70s. How many songs can do that?

But if it were just the album version of the song that I was interested in, then the song would actually be a bit lower. To some that may be blasphemy, and so be it. Not that there’s anything wrong with the studio cut. Nothing wrong at all. It’s brilliant. But to be top 10 worthy, mere brilliance won’t cut it. Luckily for us all, and in the words of Yoda, "there is another".

The failings of the Live 1975-85 box set are numerous. It focused too heavily on the Born in the USA era (but that was understandable since the box did come out in 1986), and if it was trying to recreate the Springsteen concert experience, it failed miserably. Then again, I’m not too sure it was. It wanted to present chunks of eras. 1975 was represented by the piano version of ‘Thunder Road’, then we got a 1978 chunk before moving onto recordings from 1980-81. We then ended with (far too many) selections from the 1984-85 tour.

The set needed a lot of work to get out. Songs were edited down, Max Weinberg re-recorded his drums so as to make them more uniform throughout the set and so as to remove that horrible 80s sound the drums had on the Born in the USA tour. Of the edited songs, ‘Backstreets’ had its legendary ‘Sad Eyes’ portion removed, ‘Growin’ Up’ had its mid-song story cut down. I’m pretty sure ‘Because the Night’ was cobbled together from different sources and the pacing of the whole set was way off. I mean, c’mon! ‘Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)’ on the first disc and not placed towards the end of the gig as a main set closer? Big time fail. The cover of ‘War’ really need not have been released (not that it’s bad, but what does it add to the original?) and that they couldn’t fit ‘She’s the One’ or ‘Jungleland’ on there was a major oversight.

Having said all that, there’s still some amazing gems to be found. Off the top of my head, I prefer the versions of ‘Two Hearts’, ‘Cadillac Ranch’, ‘Johnny 99’ and ‘Reason to Believe’ that are there. Not to mention the amazing Miami Horns-infused version of ‘10th Avenue Freeze Out’. The piano version of ‘Thunder Road’ is always a welcome addition and I could go on.

But what the set did right over all else was that instead of going back to 1975 or 1978 like some aficionados would have wanted him to, Bruce looked back on the concert he performed at the Nassau Coliseum on New Year’s Eve, 1980, for the version of ‘4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)’ which he was to release. This show has been used on four different occasions for live releases. ‘Held Up Without a Gun’ from The Essential Bruce Springsteen comes from here, as is the Tracks version of ‘Rendezvous’ and the released version of ‘Merry Christmas Baby’ (all of which are in the countdown already). It’s a great, amazing concert and if we don’t get the whole concert released, a set detailing his three-night stand here in December 1980 would be nice.

I’m willing to call the performance of ‘4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)’ the single most enthralling live performance of a song that I’ve ever heard the man perform. I mean, he just takes the song and makes it a giant, impassioned plea, and with the band firing on all cylinders behind him, he gives it the voice to match. Whereas the original had the singer sliding up to women and practically whispering in the ears of the girls, this one has the singer with a new perspective, on his knees and making a final play for the girl of his dreams.

This version is why the song is #9 on the countdown. Without it, I don’t think the song would ever have clicked as much as it now has. It’s a truly remarkable performance, my version of choice, and a worthy addition to this countdown.

The best bit: "Well the cops finally busted Madame Marie for tellin' fortunes better than they do. This boardwalk life for me is through, you know you ought to quit this scene too". Brilliant line and in the scheme of the album (which I think I’ve said takes place in one day), is just the teaser to the journey the boy and girl will take across the album.

Top 101 Songs Of Bruce Springsteen, A Countdown Pt. 30

This countdown is being compiled and written in present time by JT of Perth, West Australia. Follow him on Twitter @thesonsofnoone.

12. Spirit in the Night

Get it on: Greetings From Asbury Park, NJ (1973), Live 1975-85 (1986)

By chance the first time I heard ‘Spirit in the Night’ was when I was driving in my car down a highway at night on the way to a party with a girl I had just had to have a chance to be able to mess things up with. So from the start I was getting off on the best possible foot. Since then our relationship has only gotten better. I can’t recall ever skipping past the song, whether it’s from Greetings From Asbury Park, NJ or whether it’s one of the dozens of live versions I’ve heard. It never fails to impress, never fails to get the inner party that we all have somewhere inside us working.

Because what is ‘Spirit in the Night’ but the soundtrack to a party between you and a few friends? It’s a Saturday night when all you’ve got to do is throw caution to the wind and have fun.

There’s very few Bruce Springsteen songs which translate as well across Bruce’s whole career. A quick browse of my collection reveals I have 37 different performances of ‘Spirit in the Night’. I could pull out a version from 1973, listen to and love it just as much as I could a version from the Working on a Dream tour. We’ve got the great mid-70s versions where the crowd is almost as much of the band as the rest of the guys. There’s also the solo piano version on the Live in Barcelona DVD where Bruce forgets the words. It just shows you how much the man has mellowed in the past decade. In no foreseeable dimension would any Springsteen fan have thought he’d release a version of one of his oldest and most beloved songs where he messed up the lyrics. But we’ve got it now and it’s a great version... lyrical flubs included.

But there’s a great version that Bruce did at Asbury Park in 1996 with Danny Federici of Accordion, Vinnie Lopez was there too as well as Steve Van Zandt. I think of that version quite a bit when I think about ‘Spirit in the Night’. I’m not the biggest fan of that tour. Far too serious for my liking. However the shows that Bruce did at the Asbury Park Convention Centre were just fantastic. The shows not only allowed him the chance to present his then-current tour to his hometown, it also gave him the chance to have a little fun. The ‘Spirit in the Night’ from the November 26 show could have come from twenty years earlier and been recorded as Bruce sat around a fire with a few friends.

Having an adventurous mind and not a shred of musical ability in my body... I sometimes sit and wonder what songs I’d play on guitar if I could and I had a few friends around relaxing. There’s ‘Sweet Virginia’ by the Stones... ‘Return of the Grevious Angel’ by Gram Parsons (or maybe ‘Hickory Wind’), and then there’s ‘Spirit in the Night’.

Now all I need are the friends who know the song so they can sing along in the chorus with me. One day it might happen.

The best bit: Clarence Clemons’ saxophone throughout both the studio version and the Live 1975-85 version both need a shout-out. He plays the studio version like a respectful busker, the live version like a drunken madman. Neither time is flawed. It’s like he’s standing near Hazy Davy and the crew, just watching and blowing his sax to the events of the night.

11. Wreck on the Highway

Get it on: The River (1980)

The man loves the road, you’ve got to give him that. The man has a connection with the road that I doubt I could even begin to understand. Does the road symbolise the way out of where he was? Does it represent freedom? I don’t know. All I do know is that when you have Bruce Springsteen talking about the road then the odds are that you’re going to get a great song.

The idea of the road sits well with me. There isn’t a week that goes by where I don’t think about packing things up and taking my wife and I away from it all. Not forever, but just for enough of time to make things seem as though they’re right. The road gives you that opportunity to get away from your problems, and here in Australia we’ve got a hell of a lot of roads to take you to places you never thought you’d ever see.

Cars? Not so much. I’ll tell you why later on, but cars don’t sit well with me. My wife has a car, I don’t. I’m content with taking two trains and a bus to get to and from work each day. I have an odd, yet mild, distrust of those who find cars anything more than an avenue to get from Point A to Point B quicker than they would by foot. That’s not their problem, that’s mine, but it’s something I live with.

Today’s been an absolutely crappy day for me. I’m at work and all I want to do is sit down and work, but events are conspiring to keep me from doing what I’m paid to do. I keep wandering around my office, sorting out spotfires which really have nothing to do with me, but I get to deal with them anyway. My mood isn’t fantastic (to say the least) and I’ve got too much work to do. But I keep listening to ‘Wreck on the Highway’.

Why?

Well, I look outside and it’s gloomy. The rain is falling down and I know that on the roads tonight there will be carnage. It’s been months since we had decent rains so the roads will be slippery. It’s cold so people will be eager to get home, maybe too eager. Maybe they’re so eager they drive that little too fast. I just know that there will be carnage on the streets tonight. I don’t know why I know, but I know that someone will get a knock on their door late tonight to say that there’s been a death on the roads. Prove me wrong, God, please do. Get people home safely and prove me wrong. 

There are days like today where I’m just emotionally drained. It’s days like today where I could put ‘Wreck on the Highway’ on and be on the verge of tears. It’s one of those songs that when I’m feeling bad, it helps me. I want to hear something that sounds like how I feel. I want to hear ‘Wreck on the Highway’. I know that may not make too much sense, but the main reason I love ‘Wreck on the Highway’ so much is because when I’m feeling like I am right now, there’s no better song for me to hear. I don’t want it to make me feel better, but it does. The song, without even trying to do so, lifts me up. It makes me want to get home as soon as I can and be with my loved ones.

‘Wreck on the Highway’ isn’t an iconic ‘road’ song like so many others that he’s written, but it’s just about one of the damn most heartbreaking things I’ve ever listened to. But such is the way of the man, he attaches this amazing melody to his heartbreaking lyrics meaning that even though the subject matter of the song is mournful, you can’t help but listen and listen.

The best bit: Everyone who knows and loves ‘Wreck on the Highway’ will probably say something like Bruce’s vocals or lyrics. And they’d be right. They’re great. As much as I get a kick out of Garry Tallent’s simple yet beautiful bassline, there’s that moment when Bruce sings "An ambulance finally came and took him to Riverside. I watched as they drove him away" where I just stop breathing. Particularly as he stretches the "away" out like a longing look.

 

 

Top 101 Songs Of Bruce Springsteen, A Countdown Pt. 29

This countdown is being compiled and written in present time by JT of Perth, West Australia. Follow him on Twitter @thesonsofnoone.

14. Jungleland

Get it on: Born to Run (1975), Live in New York City (2001)

‘Jungleland’ is 10 minutes of heaven, made up of so many little (and not-so-little parts) which are the heart of its greatness.

So here, are my favourite things about ‘Jungleland’;

1) The mournful opening strings. You can tell just by listening to them intro the song that there’s trouble ahead.

2) When Roy Bittan begins his piano introduction. I don’t think I could ever sit in front of a piano and begin to learn how to play that, yet Bittan does so as though he’s playing upside-down, blindfolded and drunk (yet still brilliantly).

3) But wait! The strings make a comeback. After disappearing for a few seconds they return, underpinning Bittan’s piano and making you think that the pessimism present with the opening strings may just be a ruse.

4) A couple of years ago, I had one of Australia’s most esteemed sports commentators - a man called Dennis Cometti (think of someone akin to Al Michaels or Jim Nantz) - came in my studio at work to record some audio. Anyway, he sat in our dark booth and recorded his audio without taking off his tinted sunglasses. After he left, my engineer made note of this to me and mentioned that if it were anyone else, we’d be saying how much of an idiot they were, but because it was who it was, we were saying how cool it was. So in the same sense, my number 4 is the names of the characters. ‘The Barefoot Girl’, the ‘Magic Rat’. The ‘Maximum Lawman’. Put them in any other song and they’re silly names. In ‘Jungleland’, they’re just part of what makes the song great.

5) I’ve made mention of how underrated Bruce’s guitar playing is previously. Here’s just another example of how the guy is actually quite the fine axeman.

6) "Man there's an opera out on the Turnpike, there's a ballet being fought out in the alley."

7) I just love how grandiose the song is. The whole song borders on being completely over-the-top but it stays within the boundary for the whole song. Not that there’s anything wrong with being over the top... it’s just that it doesn’t suit ‘Jungleland’.

8) I love how the song plays out like a Bizarro world version of ‘Happy Days’

9) That it takes four minutes for Clarence Clemons to appear in the song even though it’s widely (and rightly) considered his crowning moment...

10) ...and having mentioned the big man... there’s probably enough words that have been written about his sax solo, so I’ll try not to add too many more except to say that I’ve heard plenty of live versions of this song and off the top of my head, I can’t recall a version where he’s messed up the sax solo. I’ve heard him stuff up ‘Bobby Jean’, but not this. It’s almost as though he knows that this song is where his reputation was forged and that he owes to himself to bring the best each and every time it’s played.

11) Everything from "Beneath the city". It’s like one of those scenes in war movies after the battle has been fought and those left standing just wander around in a haze, trying to pick up the pieces of the carnage.

12) But then he picks it up and gives us the brilliant "Man the poets down here don’t write nothing at all, they just stand back and let it all be" line.

13) Back to Roy Bittan. His piano under Bruce’s final wails gets a mention.

14) So do Bruce’s wails, especially his final wail.

You could fill a book dissecting ‘Jungleland’. I’m sure as hell haven't delved into it that much, but ‘Jungleland’ is so alive with characters, so vivid in its imagery and filled with such powerful music that you can’t help but be swept up in the grandiosity of every note.

The best bit: You want a best bit? I just gave you fourteen. Take you pick from there and I’d agree with your choice.

13. The River

Get it on: The River (1980), Live 1975-85 (1986) and Live in New York City (2001)

I spoke in ‘Atlantic City’ about how even though Bruce was alone when he recorded Nebraska, that I’ve got a sense that the music isn’t lonely. There’s a handful of stunning songs on The River which are the reverse of that sense. The title track is just one of those songs (some of which I’ve already spoken about, some still yet to come). It’s probably the loneliest song in the man’s catalogue.

It’s an amazing track, and surprisingly it’s one of the very few Bruce songs that gets the rare spin on the radio station that I’m forced to listen to at work (the others? ‘Born to Run’, ‘Born in the USA’, ‘Dancing in the Dark’, ‘Cover Me’, ‘Glory Days’, ‘I’m on Fire’ and ‘Hungry Heart’). Most of the time it’s played, it’s because it’s in the lunchtime request block and it’s probably just the same person requesting each time... but each and every time I hear the song (especially the opening strains of the harmonica) the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.

How about that harmonica? Has there ever been a more forlorn sounding instrument on a Springsteen album? Whether it’s here or on ‘The Price You Pay’ it just pierces your soul.

And the song obviously brings out intense personal feelings in Springsteen himself. He’s admitted that the song is about his sister and brother-in-law, and it brought out lengthy intros about family on the Born in the USA tour. And while the first time I heard his ‘Vietnam physical’ on the Live 1975-85 box it left me stunned, it soon left me forwarding through it to get to the song proper. But you can’t tell me that the man doesn’t go through some intense, deep thoughts when it comes to ‘The River’ and that these are best released when he’s actually playing the song, not introducing it.

(Speaking of the Live 1975-85 box, how brilliant is the somewhat extended coda on that version? It’s just further proof that letting the E Street Band breath a little bit is never a bad thing.)

The only misstep I’ve ever heard when it comes to this song is the reworked version on the Live in New York City release. But I know there are some who find that version different, but just as enthralling as the studio version. To each their own, I guess. It can never take away how great the studio version is.

‘The River’ is the soundtrack to a life of overcast, grey skies. A life where the days of blue skies and promise falls by the wayside to leave you alone and wondering what went wrong and how the hell you’re going to be able to right the situation. In fact, the music could have been used as a constant motif throughout ‘The Wire’ and I wouldn’t dispute its use.

Is the song depressing? In a way, yes. You feel for the plight of those in the song, but it also makes you thankful for what you have in your own life. And any song that does that can’t be completely depressing.

The best bit: "Now those memories come back to haunt me, they haunt me like a curse. Is a dream a lie if it don't come true, or is it something worse that sends me down to the river."

 

Top 101 Songs Of Bruce Springsteen, A Countdown Pt. 28

This countdown is being compiled and written in present time by JT of Perth, West Australia. Follow him on Twitter @thesonsofnoone.

16. The Price You Pay

Get it on: The River (1980)

Sometimes you’ve got to just slow it down. ‘The Price You Pay’ sure as hell ain’t a dirge, but it takes its time. It’s five minutes (plus change) burn at you, with a majestic backing track from a band whose sound has never been better than it was on The River. That’s as simple as I can put it.

But I don’t like it when things are simple, so let me talk some more.

I mean, you listen to it (well, I do anyway) and you wonder where the song will take you. What’s the next twist and turn (if there’s one at all).  And then by the time the song reaches its climax you realise that even though there’s been no twists, no turns, the journey you’d just been on has been far more rewarding than you’d thought at any stage during the song.

There’s so many things in ‘The Price You Pay’ which are spot-on. No amount of words can capture how spot-on they are. Like the 12-string guitar that just sits there in the left speaker, drawing your tilted head ever closer just so you can hone in on those chiming notes. There’s the sound of Bruce’s harmonica (which I’ve yet to talk about but will in a few songs time).

And how about the backing vocals? My god, they’re good. Well, they’re better than ‘good’. Listen to them on their opening lines, as Bruce sings "And in one last breath they built the roads they'd ride to their death". Listen to "ride to their death". Listen to them in the chorus, how they mournfully sing "the price you pay". Don’t tell me they’re anything less than one of the most brilliant things you’ve heard. Nothing about those backing vocals are flawed.

And then there’s the final, emphatic line;

"I’m gonna tear down and throw it away!!" You know it’s coming. Sooner or later in the song, the tension which had been building was going to come to the fore. It’s an almighty release, with Springsteen delivering a final blow akin to "this is a town full of losers and we’re pulling out of here to win" from the great ‘Thunder Road’.

I’m not even sure Bruce likes the song (based on its lack of live airings since the album came out - 32 in total), but what does he know? I think it’s a remarkable song.

The best bit: "So let the games start, you better run you little wild heart" and the little boost of speed that "you better run" gets. Little things like that keep me coming back time and time again.

15. She’s the One

Get it on: Born to Run (1975) and Hammersmith Odeon, ‘75 (2008)

It’s coming up to my first wedding anniversary. In fact, it’s almost a fortnight away, and when that day comes it will also be three years to the day that I met my wife. Meeting her was the culmination to probably the most frustrating six months of my life. I needn’t go into too many details about five months and three weeks of that time, but let me just say that I snapped out of this trance I was in and announced to myself (and a few friends) that I was back on the market (as though people knew I was ‘off the market’ to begin with) and looking for a woman in my life.

It was a Friday night, the week before I met the woman who is at the moment asleep down the corridor from me. Two friends and I went to a bar after work, and the place was filled with suits. The male-to-female ratio seemed as though it was 3:1, but honestly it was more like 2:1. Most of the females there were too old for me to even pretend as though I was interested.  Even if I was looking for a one-night stand (which I’m not sure I was), they weren’t on my radar. I did spot this one girl however. Gorgeous.  And she was standing right in front of me, talking to a guy who had the demeanour of a stereotypical geek, awkward in his stance, uncomfortable with a beer in his hand and even more uncomfortable talking to this stunning woman in front of us.

My friends and I were all looking at this woman using peripheral vision and when he excused himself to get more drinks, we knew that there was an opening (the bar was so packed that even someone wanting two glasses of water had at least a 20 minute wait). We all turned and gravitated towards her, each of us probably reeking of the desperation which, to be honest, filled our lives. We got chatting to the girl and she was amazingly nice considering she was being hit on by three guys at once, each of whom was way out of her league like an Olympic Bantamweight lined up against George Foreman the night he destroyed Joe Frazier. Anyway, the conversation started towards the guy she was with (who still hadn’t returned), and it turned out she was on a blind date, and not only that... she was having a good time.

My friends implored me to give her my number, so I pulled out a business card and wrote a note on the back, gave her the card and then walked away. The note read "don’t call me, enjoy your date". Whether I felt pity on the guy I was trying to usurp, or whether I knew how hard it was to get a date with a beautiful woman, or whether it was because the girl was enjoying herself to that stage... I didn’t want to interrupt their night any further. And it’s lucky she didn’t call me, because exactly one week later, my life changed.

I hate the Eurovision song contest (like most others), so why I decided to go to this Eurovision Party I have no idea. I was asked along by my cousin and his then-fiance (and now wife) and with nothing better to do, I thought why not. We had to dress as our favourite European country, and being the slack idiot that I am, I dressed in the one thing I had which was remotely European... a red t-shirt with Spanish writing on it which vaguely translates to "I may not be the best, but for you I’m sufficient". I got to this house, walked upstairs to where the noise was, said my hello to everyone as a group and then sat on a couch. Seated two spaces to my left was a cute girl with an electric blue wig on. You can probably all guess where this is going... yep, that girl’s now my wife. It wasn’t necessarily love at first sight... there was a lot of lust, but love? Not sure about that, although I did have a pretty good idea that she’d be around for a while.

It wasn’t until a week later that I got a better idea of the woman I was now dating. We’d been out to dinner and when we woke up the next morning, we went out shopping (even though I was feeling like death warmed up). About 10 minutes into our shopping trip and I could barely walk I was so sick. My girl took me back to her house, folded her sofa out and took care of me that day (she’s a nurse by trade). How the hell did I deserve this? Sure we were dating but it wasn’t like we were tied at the waist. She took care of me that day much better than I deserved. I mustered up enough strength later that evening to go home and as I got in my car, my iPod came on. It picked up where I’d left off the previous day, and the song that was playing?

‘She’s the One’.

Well if that wasn’t a sign then I don’t know what is. I’d already fallen in love with her before I got in my car, but ‘She’s the One’ coming on the stereo just validated my thoughts. But enough about me. What about the song? Man, it’s good. It’s actually better than good. It’s unbelievably good.

If ‘She’s the One’ could be presented in a graph format, it would be one which the line starts near the junction of the X and Y axis and just keeps going up and up for four-and-a-half minutes. Because that’s what it does. Like a devoted mountain climber scaling the heights of Everest, ‘She’s the One’ starts off small and just builds and builds into something towering. When you think the song can’t build any more, it just keeps building.

I wake up every day more in love with my wife than I was the day before... and just when I think that I couldn’t possibly love her any more than I do today, I go to bed and wake up proving myself wrong. Every day I have with her is better than the day before. There was never really any doubt that she was the one for me... but sometimes it’s nice to have a bit of Springsteen to help you realise the truth.

The best bit: The arrival of Clarence Clemons’ sax. It takes more than two-and-a-half minutes to arrive, but you always knew it was coming. It’s the final piece in the puzzle of the song, pushing it further and further to greatness.

 

Top 101 Songs Of Bruce Springsteen, A Countdown Pt. 27

 

This countdown is being compiled and written in present time by JT of Perth, West Australia. Follow him on Twitter @thesonsofnoone.

19. Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)

Get it on: The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle (1973) and Live 1975-85 (1986)

Is it safe to say that there’s no song in Springsteen’s catalogue which is beloved as ‘Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)’? Even if it’s not someone’s favourite song, it still holds a very special place in their heart. I thought about that for a while and wondered why that was.

Is it because the song is plain fun?
Is it because the song reminds the listener of less complicated days?
Is it because the song was the staple of the man’s live shows for years?
Is it all of this and a hundred other reasons I’ve yet to think of?

Yes. To all of them.

It falls safely into my theories of great love songs being about wanting the girl, not having the girl, or having lost the girl. There’s exceptions obviously, but ‘Rosalita’ is completely about wanting the girl. Wanting the girl so bad that you want to get in your car and drive off with her forever. It’s a great sentiment that would play out better in a country that isn’t the one I live in at the moment, and it’s a sentiment that would come to serve Bruce well (in an admittedly more dour setting) in ‘Thunder Road’.

Whenever I think of ‘Rosalita’ I think of joy. Joy in the band as they play the song they played hundreds of times before. Joy in the listener who knows what’s to follow for seven minutes, and joy for those who don’t know what’s about to follow for the next seven minutes.

I’ve been to a thousand parties where a simple playing of ‘Rosalita’ would have picked up the dullness and flushed it away. It’s the soundtrack to a better life, one where inhibitions don’t exist and all you’re running on is the boundless enthusiasm that wells forever inside you. Basically, ‘Rosalita’ is unbridled joy.

The best bit: The moment before the final chorus when the whole band stops, as if to say "we need to take a breath here" before kicking straight back into the song’s finale.

18. Atlantic City

Get it on: Nebraska (1982), Live in New York City (2001) and Live in Dublin (2007)

There’s these mythical E Street Band recording sessions that may or may not exist. I probably sit in the latter camp, but for the moment let’s pretend the sessions took place. The ‘Electric Nebraska’ sessions were recording sessions held as a precursor to the sessions which yielded Born in the USA.

Some of the songs originally recorded with the Nebraska songs made their way onto Born in the USA, including the title track and ‘Downbound Train’ while others made it to b-sides (‘Pink Cadillac’ and ‘Johnny Bye-Bye’. All the other songs aren’t documented as being performed by the E Street Band.

Why’s this important? Well, I think that there’s a mindset among Springsteen aficionados that believe anything unheard has a great chance of being better than what we already have. And I just can’t get behind that philosophy with the Nebraska songs. A ‘Johnny 99’ with band accompaniment is completely unappealing to me. Leave the songs as they are, don’t wish for things to be different. ‘Atlantic City’ included.

On Live in New York City you get a full-band ‘Atlantic City’ and it’s very good. It gets docked points for completely cutting out the call and response thing Bruce had going with the crowd that night (crappier sounding bootlegs reveal how powerful it was that night), but gives you an idea of what a full-band ‘Atlantic City’, if recorded back in 1982, would have sounded like. Then there was the rearrangement on Live in Dublin which although fine, doesn’t get towards the sound Bruce gave us on Nebraska.

The live cuts with his various bands show us that Springsteen diehards need to stop looking for our new holy grail. I never understood why there was such a need to go searching for something when the songs you’ll be immediately comparing them to are so brilliant and unique. I, for one, think that electrified band versions of the Nebraska songs would be not a disaster, but something supremely underwhelming. What makes the songs on Nebraska, and especially ‘Atlantic City’, so brilliant are the sparseness which breathes throughout the songs. You can listen to the song and just picture Bruce in the middle of a house which in itself is in the middle of nowhere, playing his guitar with a flannel shirt on while gently going back and forth on a rocking chair. Why would you want to change that?

There’s a great moment buried amongst hundreds of other brilliant moments in Michael Mann’s Heat when Neil McCauley (played by Robert De Niro) sits talking to Eady (Amy Brenneman). It’s a seemingly meaningless conversation where the two of them are getting to know each other and Neil mentions that he travels a lot. Eady asks whether traveling makes him lonely. Neil replies "I’m alone. I am not lonely".

‘Atlantic City’ reminds me of that line. All throughout Nebraska, you get great songs with just Bruce and his guitar sounding alone and lonely. On ‘Atlantic City’, Bruce may be alone, but he never sounds lonely. And I don’t think I’ve ever sat back to think about how difficult it would have been to achieve that.

The best bit: The echoing backing vocals Bruce gives himself, as though it’s his own ghost haunting the song.

17. Tougher Than the Rest

Get it on: Tunnel of Love (1987) and Chimes of Freedom EP (1988)

It's got to be said that as an actor, Bruce Springsteen has room for improvement. He was obviously riding some MTV boom around the time of Born in the USA, because his videos from around this time (especially ‘I’m on Fire’ and ‘Glory Days’) are just... well "interesting" is a word I could use. Yeah, let’s go with that.

He obviously got over it though. By the time of Tunnel of Love he’d ditched the videos where he’d fall in love with a pair of legs for videos much simpler. He also realised that the videos which were basically live performances were his best. He didn’t mind adding a few other flourishes but for the most part, the ‘Tougher Than the Rest’ video is a live performance (and a killer one at that). And in not acting, he gives his most amazing performance.

But here’s where the video gets a pass. It contains the single-greatest moment in any Springsteen film clip ever. Better than watching him pitch on the baseball diamond. Better than Courteney Cox, better than the women rushing the stage to kiss him in ‘Rosalita (Come Out Tonight). It’s even better than the moment in the ‘Thunder Road’ clip when Max Weinberg smashes the drums and raises his arms up higher with each crash. Everyone knows the bit I’m talking about, don’t they? It’s the glances between Bruce and Patti Scialfa where they, well... how’s the best way to say this... they’re basically eye-f***ing each other on stage.

I know I’m joking around at the moment, but at the same time, I’m not. It’s actually amazing to watch. You feel almost voyeuristic in doing so, but you can’t help but notice the tension between the two. Watch the clip and you’ll see what I mean. Patti Scialfa (who has never been as perfect as she has in the live version found on the Chimes of Freedom EP, which is the same version in the video), blinks her eyes in a way that you just know they weren’t just some some involuntary movements. The blinks linger just that little bit too long (or just enough if that what she was trying to convey). There might as well have been a backing tape of the band playing, because as far as Springsteen and Scialfa were concerned, there were only two people on that stage during the song.

And that’s exactly why that video is the best he’s ever done. ‘Tougher Than the Rest’ is such an intimate song. It’s a singer auditioning for the woman’s love, a one-way conversation piece and it needed such an amazing video to show how powerful the song is. It’s one of my very favourite Tunnel of Love songs, and although Bruce doesn’t roll out the songs from that album too often, he should. It’s often thought of as his "divorce" album, and taken as a whole that may be a warranted impression. Take the songs individually and you’re left with some of the most heartfelt and honest music the man’s ever created.

But take the video away and you’re still left with an amazing piece of music. It’s very much a product of the eighties when you get down to how the song sounds, but I don’t take that as a negative at all. It’s a song full of stunningly honest lyrics and every time I listen to it I wish I could create something half as powerful. 

The best bit: "Well it ain’t no secret, I’ve been around a time or two. Well I don’t know baby, maybe you’ve been around too". Too often lyricists try for extravagant language to get their points across. Not Bruce, and especially not on ‘Tougher Than the Rest’.

 

Top 101 Songs Of Bruce Springsteen, A Countdown Pt. 26

This countdown is being compiled and written in present time by JT of Perth, West Australia. Follow him on Twitter @thesonsofnoone.

23. Thundercrack

Get it on: Tracks (1998)

If there were a contest, it must have been close. Two songs, one role on stage, one place on the album. ‘Thundercrack’ lost. ‘Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)’ won and became set closer for a decade and one of the man’s most beloved songs. ‘Thundercrack’ wilted away... stayed in the vaults for 25 years and wasn’t heard from again (almost).

With that kind of history, you’d think that the decision to cut ‘Thundercrack’ from the man’s repertoire would have been easy. I don’t know how the decision was made and whether or not it was easy, but I know that in cutting ‘Thundercrack’, Bruce deprived himself and his audience of one of his finest songs.

(To be honest, I loved the song before I knew how it sounded. ‘Thundercrack’... What a name!)

Now it’s no secret that I love this era of the band. Mid-73 through to Mid-74 may have seen Bruce in a commercial lull, but artistically, it produced some of his most vibrant and fascinating music, and ‘Thundercrack’ may very well be the best eight-and-a-half minute distillation of that period. It’s an eight-and-a-half minute party that never gets old.

Who cares that "her brains they rattle and her bones they shake - whoah she’s the angel from the Inner Lake" don’t have the same ring to them as lyrics than lines such as "I get shivers down my spine and all I wanna do is hold you tight"? ‘Thundercrack’ is and probably never was about the lyrics. It’s brilliance lies in the unspoken things, like the opening notes of Danny Federici’s organ, to the backing vocals of Vinnie Lopez, who always manages to sing as though you think he’s about to try and sing too high - but never does.

If someone landed on Earth and enquired about the E Street Band and what their sounds were, well you’d have a lot of fun. As previously mentioned, there’s about twelve incarnations of the band. ‘Thundercrack’ lies in the first incarnation, before Bruce begins to switch his songwriting style away from the exact kind of song ‘Thundercrack’ is, and if you needed to demonstrate the sound of the band, then there’s no better piece of music than the middle section to ‘Thundercrack’.

Even though I understand the reasons why it wasn’t included on The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle, it still stands head and shoulders over countless others of the man’s songs. Not bad for an outtake. Mind you, it’s the best outtake the man’s ever had.

The best bit: Bruce’s best songs (or perhaps it’s better to say "my favourite songs") from this period have some great background vocals. ‘Thundercrack’s no option. Whether it’s the opening lines... the "sha-la sha-la la-la la-la" before the song kicks into gear, or the "whoah oh oh" vocals coming out of the middle of the song, the vocals don’t necessarily give the impression of a band as much as a big family. And I like that. Quite a lot.

22. Because the Night

Get it on: Live 1975-85 (1986) and The Promise (2010)

For too long, my opinions of Bruce Springsteen weren’t particularly good. I’d been a young child when Born in the USA came along and he seemed too angry when singing ‘Born in the USA’ and too uncomfortable when singing ‘Dancing in the Dark’. I never liked seeing the guy all dressed in flannel, fist pumped high into the air. For years, this juvenile impression stayed with me and kept me from the man’s music.

Years later, ‘Streets of Philadelphia’ came out and it was the first time in probably a decade that a new Springsteen song had made a splash here in Australia (as far as I could remember anyway). And I didn’t think it was too bad. It overstayed its welcome when played to death on the radio, but before it got to that stage, it was a song I quite enjoyed. There wasn’t anything to dislike about it, and there wasn’t anything to jump on a table and start dancing like a fool at either. It was just pleasant (for lack of a better word). I just couldn’t get my prejudices out of my head, no matter how hard I tried.

Finally, when the time had come to put my petty and childish thoughts aside, I began to ‘get’ the music that he made. I understood the need for people to simultaneously raised their fists into the air when singing his songs. I disagreed sometimes with their choice of songs when fist-pumping their way around, but I knew there were songs which, even though you didn’t necessarily want to, no other course of action was available.

‘Because the Night’, from my very first listen, was the ultimate fist-pumping song. It’s arena and stadium rock at its very finest and if that sounds as though it’s a thinly-veiled insult, then I’m probably not getting my point across enough. ‘Because the Night’, to me anyway, is the song that warrants the reaction that lesser songs receive.

The cut on the Live 1975-85 box set is completely and utterly essential. There’s no studio cut that could ever be better, and considering Bruce never completed the song in the studio, it should be the version that anyone reaches for when they want to hear the song. It’s probably worth noting that although the liner notes for the box state this is from the December 28, 1980 show at Nassau Coliseum (the three shows in that run, Dec. 28-29-31 are legendary shows), it’s actually pieced together from other performances. I swear the guitar solo is from a completely different source. But it doesn’t matter, it’s brilliant.

It’s from his 1980/81 tours, which I’ve already told you could be the period where his voice was at its greatest and the performance seemingly creates this marvellous tension-filled atmosphere, where the beginning of each chorus is a bomb exploding. By the time Bruce’s great solo is done and the whole band comes in for a final chorus is almost too much. The band lift you off your feet one final time and you can’t help but be completely energised by the song.

Kudos to the great Patti Smith for finishing the song when Bruce didn’t want to, but on the Live 1975-85 box set, Bruce took the song right back and made his own again.

The best bit: There isn’t one particular bit that’s better than the rest, so I’ll mention again the atmosphere of the cut on the live box. It makes the night sound dark and stormy, with the band playing to ensure the bad weather recedes. Great version.

21. Johnny 99

Get it on: Nebraska (1982) and Live 1975-85 (1986)

A little tidbit about myself: My lucky number is 21. I was born on November 21, my mother on March 21 and my father on January 21. We used to live at number 21 and the final two numbers in our first phone number were 2 and 1. So number 21 in this count down couldn’t just be a good song, it had to be great. Lucky for me that there was no danger of that not happening.

Of all the thing you hear about Bruce, about his songwriting, about his band, about his mythical live shows, there’s one aspect that I think gets swept under the rug every now and then.

The man’s an exceptional singer. Sure, I do think that sometimes with some songs he can get a bit lazy and revert to a twang to pass the time, but in the scope of his whole career, that’s only a rare occurrence. His voice can be twisted and turned to suit whatever he’s singing, yet at the same time you’re never thinking that you’re listening to anyone other than the man himself. And there’s not many people you can say that about. He’s equally comfortable singing a slow, moody piece as he is cranking out ‘Twist & Shout’ three hours after he first started singing that night. He’ll also leave you breathless with wordless whoops and hollers when you least expect it (see my entry on ‘Land of Hope and Dreams’ for the perfect example... or listen to the cut of ‘Tenth Avenue Freeze Out’ on the live box for another).

One aspect of Bruce’s career which isn’t swept under the rug is the remarkable ability of the man to put himself in the shoes of strangers, each of which is living a version of the fears in Springsteen’s life. ‘Johnny 99’ is obviously not an autobiographical song, but whenever you listen to it, you’re convinced that he’s singing about something he has an intimate knowledge of, as though Johnny himself was a long-lost brother of Springsteen’s.

‘Johnny 99’ combines Bruce’s great, underrated voice, with his perfectly rated ability to tell a story through his music. In fact, Bruce’s vocals on ‘Johnny 99’ lead me straight to one conclusion... that of all the songs the man has released, there’s no other song that simply didn’t need any music backing the vocals. There’s no doubt in my mind that as an acapella song, ‘Johnny 99’ would be just as powerful, and would even leave a greater impact than what we’ve got (which, admittedly, is a pretty big impact).

Never mind though - because with its limited instrumentation, ‘Johnny 99’ is still the 21st greatest Bruce Springsteen song. And considering how much the number 21 means to me - it’s a grand honour to bestow.

The best bit: The definitive cut we have isn't on Nebraska, it's the brilliant version on the Live 1975-85 box set. "Well a fist fight broke out in the courtroom, they had to drag Johnny’s girl away!" Love the imagery of this and the way Bruce roars the vocals.

20. If I Should Fall Behind

Get it on: Lucky Town (1992) and Live in New York City (2001)

"Some people wanna fill the world with silly love songs. And what's wrong with that?"

Nothing Paul, nothing at all.

That’s not to say that ‘If I Should Fall Behind’ is a silly love song. Not at all. Never in a million years could it be called a silly love song. Any Bruce Springsteen song that could be classified as a ‘silly love song’ is a song I don’t want to hear. The beauty of the man’s best songs are that even when they’re happy, you’re never complacent when listening to them. You’re sure that around the corner lurks trouble for the singer. Even when you’ve heard the song a hundred times, you can still never be so sure. But ‘If I Should Fall Behind’ IS a love song. It’s one of the man’s finest love songs. Well, that’s doing the song an injustice. It’s one of the man’s finest songs.

I’ve already spoken about the speech I gave at my wedding almost one year ago. For years, even before I’d met the woman who is now my wife, I’d had this pact with myself that in my speech I’d quote Marvin Gaye’s ‘If I Should Die Tonight’, specifically the main lyrics "if I should die tonight, though it would be far before my time... I won’t die blue ‘cos I’ve known you". I was talked out of it, and being the music buff, I still wanted to work some lyrics into my speech. My next stop was ‘If I Should Fall Behind’ and "if as we’re walking, my hand should slip free... I’ll wait for you and should I fall behind wait for me".

But I didn’t use it. The moment wasn’t for me to spout lyrics, especially since my five minute speech spread upwards of twenty minutes (I did manage to drop a ‘God Only Knows’ reference in there, but only because it’s one my wife’s favourite songs). But the sentiment of the song has stuck with me since I first heard it. The sentiment that no matter how happy you are, there’s something that may derail your journey, but if it does, there’s nothing better than having that special someone there to get you through. If that happens, be lucky that you’ve got someone to help you through. It’s always stayed with me and I don’t think it will ever depart the grey matter between my ears.

Bruce knows this more than most. Even when singing his ‘love’ songs, he never seems more than 80% happy. As though he’s permanently mindful that outside forces could cause what he’s got to come undone. And I don’t think that’s because the guy’s a downer, it’s just that I think he agrees with me that perfection in life isn’t something that you’d ever want to attain because how can you ever enjoy what's good in life if you’ve never had to experience all the shit things that life throws your way?

"Now everyone dreams of a love lasting and true
But you and I know what this world can do
So let's make our steps clear that the other may see
And I'll wait for you
If I should fall behind
Wait for me"

It would be remiss of me if I didn’t mention that of all Bruce’s songs, ‘If I Should Fall Behind’ is one, probably the only one, where I prefer a cover version to the original. But since I’m such a Go-Betweens fanboy, my love of Grant McLennan’s solo rendition of the song probably doesn’t count. But since we’re mentioning it, when I broached the idea of ‘If I Should Fall Behind’ as our wedding dance song, it was the McLennan version, not Springsteen’s that I played to help sway my wife's decision. I lost.

I’m not sure about you, but I love silly love songs. But more than that, I love the love songs which are so true that you sit back and listen, wondering if the song was written especially for the life you’re now leading.

The best bit: On Live in New York City, the whole band get a chance to sing. Nils Lofgren gets but a line and kills it, but Bruce’s final "I’ll wait for you, and should I fall behind, wait for me" makes it even more memorable.