"Government is not reason; it is not eloquent; it is force. Like fire, it is a dangerous servant and a fearful master." - George Washington
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Bruce Springsteen makes case to believe in 'Magic'
Springsteen on the "Today" show (9/28).
Jim Farber
New York Daily News
Tuesday, October 2nd 2007, 4:00 AM
Call it a comeback. On Bruce Springsteen's new CD, "Magic," he rediscovers the rock muse that first fueled him.
After enduring hootenanny Bruce ("The Seeger Sessions"), self-righteous Bruce ("The Rising") and two doses of dreary Bruce ("The Ghost of Tom Joad" and "Devils and Dust"), fans finally have back the guy who can match a rousing pop song to verses of focus and meaning.
In fact, for "Magic" Springsteen has created his catchiest music in 15 years (since "Human Touch"/"Lucky Town") and penned his most convincing words in 20 ("Tunnel of Love").
Things fade away fast in the world of "Magic" - physical beauty, cultural relevance, the bonds of love, the things you recognize and the people you used to know.
While Springsteen's early work had everything to do with racing out to meet a world of possibilities, "Magic" has more to do with watching what you found there receding into the rearview mirror.
In that sense, it's an age-appropriate work. Bruce did just turn 58, after all. So now he can sing with authority about trying to rebalance a life where less lies ahead than behind. Yet "Magic" is far from a grim affair. If it isn't exactly the flat-out, barreling rock record advance word promised - and if it never scales the Olympic heights of Bruce's very best - it contains consistently gripping music and the artist's most well-thought-out, and best proportioned, words in eons.
All of this comes as a special relief after the political piggybacking of his last album with the E Street Band (2002's literal-minded "The Rising") and the rural affectations of "Devils and Dust." Bruce may have gotten some of his groove back with the rousing and wily "Seeger Sessions," but on "Magic" he's writing strong, original songs again, starting with the bracing first single, "Radio Nowhere."
As noted by many online critics these last few weeks, the song does sound sort of like Tommy Tutone's "Jenny." But that hardly rises to a level that would land Bruce in court. Also, Bruce's passion far exceeds that of the reference song, and his subject couldn't be more relevant.
"Radio Nowhere" addresses the death of mass culture in the Internet age, the end of that special connection we formed with each other by listening to the same stations and hearing the same bands.
The theme of loss escalates in "You'll Be Comin' Down," in which time tears away the power of physical beauty, as well as "Girls in Their Summer Clothes," where the young things no longer grant Bruce their gaze.
"Livin' in the Future" imagines the end of a love. A hidden track at the end ("Terry's Song") deals with literal death, saluting Bruce's friend and bodyguard Terry MacGovern, who died this year.
While Bruce has told interviewers he timed this release for an election year, politics lurks as a shadowy subtext rather than an in-your-face commentary - always the preferable route. His most direct comment comes in "Last to Die," which muses on the special tragedy of those who give their lives for a war long acknowledged by most to be a mistake.
Springsteen's new songs aren't just his most exciting in many years, they're better crafted as formal pop pieces, giving them enough joy to exorcise the sadness. There are bits of hope in here, too. Ever the American optimist, Springsteen made sure to stick his brightest sentiments in the enigmatic title track, which balances threat with possibility.
In that sense, "Magic" ends up far more poignant than wan. Better, for a work that's often about things slipping away, it houses music you'll want to hold close.
jfarber@nydailynews.com
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