Born in the USA - Bruce Springsteen

Red cap pocketed, casually posed (potentially pissing?) in front of his national flag, ‘The Boss’ became easily recognisable by this vastly iconic album cover and the music it entails. Born in the USA remains one of Springsteen’s most notable projects, and during it’s time of release a turning point in the New Jersey rockstars career, mega-launching him to globally renowned superstar status. The seminal record was championed Album of the Year at the 27th Grammys in 1984 and after being certified platinum 17 times over, the record has grown to become one of the best-selling of all time. A masterpiece in its own right.

Recorded with the accompaniment of the E Street Band, Springsteen’s eclectic collection of patriotism (or lack of) details the trials and tribulations of his most personal relationships and of the average working-class American. Whether this be through an outwardly sombre depiction of returning Vietnam soldiers struggles or a whimsical masculine metaphor to mask elements of vulnerability and being in touch with his emotions. The collection marks the beginning of a brighter pop-influence on his work compared to his prior quintessentially rock’n’roll style.

Yet these rockstar roots are not lost in the overall sound of the record. The immediate energy and grit felt from the heavy pulsing drum beats over reverbed synth chords are instant reminders of this. A hugely enticing opener, the title track ‘Born in the USA’ gives us every reason to believe it acts as a patriotic tone-indicating anthem for what’s to follow. Sound so bounding it imitates a real-life American stadium experience, a track name categorically referencing his heritage all tied together with an album cover so American that it screams 4th of July. It’s only natural to wave the flag in national solidarity with what it appears Springsteen is expressing. But the overly patriotic irony of it all is exactly what the song truly details. “Born in a dead man’s town” has quite the opposing effect to its audio and the expectations one would have for the records overall vibe.

The closing track ‘My Hometown’ provides us with an almost opposite effect. As a more stripped back, minor tune it encompasses a totally different feel to the opener yet tries to maintain more positive in its substance by touching on the love/hate relationship with your childhood town engraved in us all. A full-circle moment is created by these conceptually similar opening and closing tracks that encapsulate an overarching motif throughout the album. That the lyrical content of gloomy realities for 20th century working class Americans is masked by the patriotic album artwork and the classic rock elements connoted with typical American culture, much like how these issues were overlooked by society during its time of release too.

Speaking of musical motifs, the pulsing bass drum beat that surges the beginning of the whole album is apparent in nearly every track from start to finish, as if it were a heartbeat keeping the tracks on course. Whether it be prevalent and dynamic like in ‘Cover Me’, ‘Working on the Highway’ and ‘Glory Days’ or toned down to a subtle hum in the likes of ‘I’m on Fire’, that pulsating sensation can be felt endlessly. Many of the tracks finish off using a slow fade down into silence, a technique far more popular in 80’s and 90’s music compared to how used it is nowadays. But with many of the tracks being more emotive and deeper than they seem on the surface, the fading repeated final chorus often gives you chance to absorb and resonate with the track, gathering your interpretation without the next immediately hitting you with an impressive guitar riff.

After my first few deep listens to this record, I had clocked that many of the songs seem to be grouped together in their own ways. The first example being ‘No Surrender’ and ‘Bobby Jean’ for their similar ideas on fraternal love and long-term friendship. Whilst the character Springsteen devotes ‘Bobby Jean’ to is left ungendered and unspecified, it’s heavily rumoured to be a testament to his great friend and band member Steve Van Zandt who was currently leaving the band (before realising his mistake and making his return around 15 years later). Both act on significantly more loving lyricism, in comparison to another example of grouped tracks, ‘Downbound Train’ and the last track written for the record and the only certified platinum single, ‘Dancing in the Dark’. Arguably the saddest and most pessimistic on the record, these two tracks use their plucky sax and guitar solos and up-tempo rhythms to mask their deeper lyrics. A technique I think can make tracks greatly stand out amongst others, perhaps why these two tracks are my personal favourites from this infamously impressive record.