It’s not that I don’t get Bruce Springsteen; I do. It’s just that his schtick doesn’t appeal to me in the least. I was a kid when he took over the charts with Born in the USA, so he was just another superstar next to Michael Jackson and Madonna and Prince, though I didn’t understand why. I preferred the latter three, i.e. the weirder ones- the ones who made pop music into spectacular fantasies. Music is escapism; it just depends on what you want to escape to or from. Springsteen represented construction workers and the color brown to me. As a kid, New Jersey held no appeal. And as an adult, still none. Working class values certainly didn’t have any bearing on my 10 year-old lifestyle and worldview. So, I only assumed to appreciate Bruce Springsteen one had to either be old or destitute. Now that I’m of an age where Springsteen’s message might matter, I still don’t care. I don’t look to music to make myself feel better. And Springsteen’s music is just too earnest and “everyman”-ish. That semi-embarrassing spectacle at half time last night didn’t help matters, either. I know Springsteen is not exactly in his prime, so his twilight in music might as well be big, corporate-sponsored, beer-guzzling, nostalgic parties for people who wish they didn’t work in factories. Bring back Prince. He tore that shit up.
Halftime was a snooze
Posted February 2nd, 2009 by Eric Greenwood · No Comments