A new Bruce Springsteen record will almost guarantee the resurrection of the "hasn't made a great album since Nebraska" conversation. The less rigid will substitute "Nebraska" for "Tunnel Of Love." But the worst of the lot won't give you anything after "Darkness On The Edge Of Town." For a world renowned superstar, respected songwriter, legendary entertainer, and Tony winner, Bruce Springsteen rarely makes a good record...at least that's how it seems the first week of a new release. A new Bruce Springsteen record, since "Tunnel of Love" it seems, will almost be a guaranteed disappointment on first or second listen because, at least since 1980's "The River," Bruce Springsteen hasn't made a record that sounds like the Bruce Springsteen you remember loving, all those sweaty, Capitol Theater nights ago. Besides, you have Southside Johnny for that, and ironically, that band gets trashed by the cognescenti, too. It's a lose-lose, isn't it?
But things change. You come around. In the words of Jeff Tweedy, "What you once were isn't what you wanna be anymore." Not you. Not me. Not Bruce Springsteen.
Now we have "Western Stars," a "cowboy" record. "Western Stars," a "desert" record. "Western Stars," a "Laurel Canyon" record. I've been living with this record for a day now, and "Western Stars" isn't any of those things. It's a Bruce Springsteen record and it's a damn good one, and even damn good records are not perfect.
Names like Jimmy Webb, Glen Campbell and Harry Nilsson were tossed around when "Hello Sunshine" was released as the first single. In and of itself, "Hello Sunshine" is indeed a pastiche of those artists, and the music they made. But in the context of "Western Stars," the album, that single is just as much a Bruce Springsteen song as "Walk Like A Man" from "Tunnel Of Love," or "Incident On 57th Street," from 15 years before it.
Songs like "The Wayfarer" and "Sundown," are, in a word, stunning. This is record-making at its finest, with sweeping production and big finales. "Stones," the very best thing on "Western Stars," for now, has a vibe that is part "Lonesome Day" and part "Color Of A Cloudy Day," the heart-wrenching Jason Isbell/Amanda Shires song, and it too, will leave you breathless.
Not everything works for me. Not the opener, "Hitch Hikin'," a simple and repetitive cliche that would have served the record better as a closer, much like "Wreck On The Highway," closing out "The River." And "Sleepy Joe's Cafe" feels too much like "Mary's Place" from "The Rising," which felt too much like Sam Cooke, and neither particularly good.
"Western Stars" will unfold and reveal itself slowly, like a brilliant record should. I love it more than I did yesterday. It might help to drop all labels and all expectations. I don't even expect the rumored E Street Band record to sound anything like the E Street Band when it gets released next year. But if you're a fan of The Boss and of pop music, "Western Stars" has the best of both.
