He's done this before. Every few years or so, Bruce Springsteen, one of rock's pre-eminent singer-songwriters, takes us to bleak places in his music, introduces us to a cast of desperate, downtrodden characters while capturing a sense of the times.
He did this on the 1982 Nebraska album, a brilliant, acidic appraisal of Ronald Reagan's America. In 1995, he unleashed the particularly bitter The Ghost of Tom Joad, which chronicled those who fell through the cracks during the boom years of the Clinton administration. And 2002's The Rising, a decent though bloated record, centered on the dashed lives and dreams of America post-Sept. 11.
Now, well into the second Bush term as talk of spiritual fortification permeates pop culture, the Boss has dropped another mostly acoustic set that holds a mirror up to the country: Devils & Dust. The characters this time - an inner city kid, a prostitute, a drowned illegal immigrant whose tale unfolds in reverse - seem to be in search of some sort of salvation, be it through travel or sex or spirituality.
Great writing
In stores today, the CD, the artist's 13th studio album, has great intentions. As the songs go from slow and winding to bright and bouncy and back again, the material radiates the singer's warmth and empathy for his characters.
But Devils & Dust, produced by Brendan O'Brien who oversaw The Rising, probably won't become your favorite Springsteen record: Musically, it just doesn't gel. The arrangements feel forced and inconsistent. Many of the songs meander; there's seldom real melody. Lyrically, however, the New Jersey homeboy is still at the top of his game. In certain spots, the album offers some of his finest writing to date.
The CD is off to a nice start with the penetrating title track, told through the eyes of a soldier: I got my finger on the trigger /But I don't know who to trust/When I look into your eyes/There's just devils and dust.
Perhaps the most affecting lines of the song are the ones with the most spiritual resonance: Fear's a powerful thing/It can turn your heart black you can trust/It'll take your God filled soul/And fill it with devils and dust ... . The message comes across clearly with Springsteen's matter-of-fact vocal approach and the organically dramatic arrangement, which begins with the artist strumming rhythmically on the acoustic guitar and builds to a full treatment with harmonica, horns and strings. But it never feels bombastic. It is perhaps the best moment on the album.
