On the basis of “Outlaw Pete”, an eight-minute saga about a bank-robbing baby that has some catchy hooks outside of the one that’s identical to “I Was Made For Loving You” by Kiss, one can be forgiven for thinking the kid didn’t get enough oxygen. But “My Lucky Day” redeems it, with the big E Street sound everybody loved on The Rising, and even a textbook Clarence solo. The title track is a little too by numbers, and the sweetness of “Queen Of The Supermarket” is sunk by its improbability, or at least its literalness; Paul Westerberg already wrote the best ode to a checkout girl anyway. Right at the end he finds a terrific countermelody, then shocks us with an F-bomb, and lets the song fade to the accompaniment of a UPC scanner. (We kid you not.) “What Love Can Do” sounds like something he must’ve written already, and it could do without the clattery arrangement. “This Life” builds on the Brian Wilson inspirations of the last album to get us smiling again.
The experiments continue on “Good Eye”, a noisy blues rocker sung through a Green Bullet. “Tomorrow Never Knows” is a country song that has nothing to do with John Lennon, and while “Life Itself” is twice as long and has nothing to do with George Harrison, it’s got more depth. The country elements of those last couple of songs combine with the high notes on “Kingdom Of Days” to take it away from “Girls In Their Summer Clothes” and “Your Own Worst Enemy”. “Surprise, Surprise” was another chance to evoke John Lennon, or at least Gomer Pyle, but instead stays a pop song with a Mark Ronson bridge. It’s a final chance for toe-tapping, given the dusty atmosphere of “The Last Carnival”. (As had become standard, this album’s hidden or bonus track is “The Wrestler”, written for the movie of the same name. It’s no “Streets Of Philadelphia”.)
Working On A Dream is possibly Bruce’s most lightweight album, in that it’s not weighed down by the hard lives and tough loves of all those just plain folks. Rolling Stone magazine was bound by law to give it five stars, but that should mean nothing by now. It’s merely harmless and enjoyable.
Bruce Springsteen Working On A Dream (2009)—3
"Rolling Stone magazine was bound by law to give it five stars..."
ReplyDeleteSo true. Springsteen always got the benefit of the doubt from critics, even in his prime—although even "Lucky Town" (or that other one) managed only three stars, if memory serves. But now he's bullet-proof.
I’d say this is certainly Bruce’s most diverse album. At the time, I think everybody made a big deal about the Brian Wilson-isms (although I’d instead call them Bruce taking his Phil Spector obsessions to extremes). However, there all sorts of other things going on, too.
ReplyDeleteI find “Outlaw Pete” to be quite amusing. It falls into the category of what used to be called “tall tales”. It’d be interesting if he remade it in with a more organic “Seeger Sessions” arrangement. The wistful “Girls in Their Summer Clothes” is another favorite. Great singing on a Spector-esque sort of sequel to “Sandy”, 40 years on. Spector also shows up on the title track, the type of anthem his fans adore. “My Lucky Day” sounds like an outtake from “The River”, where Spector was more of a influence and less of a direct cop.
Fortunately, there’s other stuff. Starting “Good Eye” with a loop and then leading into a CCR groove is really cool. The only real Brian Wilson moment I hear is on the intro to “This Life”, but then its back to wistful Spector nostalgia on the rest. On “Life Itself”, “Surprise Surprise”, “Tomorrow Never Knows”, who I hear is Tom Petty – musically, lyrically and even vocally. Consciously or not, that’s a good thing.
And then there’s “Queen of the Supermarket”. Every time I listen to this song, I can hardly believe that I’m listening to Bruce Springsteen. It sounds like a parody! He came up with the most RIDICULOUS lyrics that he ever wrote. They’re accompanied by an incredibly overdone production that careens into kitsch (“The Long and Winding Road”, anybody?). It should be the soundtrack of a “Simpsons” episode where Homer gets all gooey over a checkout girl at Apu’s. Inexpilcable!
“The Wrestler”, like “Terry’s Song” before, ends an album with a song that sounds out of place. It’s not bad, but the movie’s better than the song. I really recommend it.
The album mostly lacks the grit usually associated with Springsteen. There aren’t any of the rockers he usually throws in. As a result, it probably didn’t appeal to a lot of longtime fans. For people who like his more poppy side, there’s good music here. Except, of course, for you-know-what!