Massive Music List

For more than 35 years, Bruce Springsteen has set a standard of consistent excellence that few other rock and roll artists could ever hope to match. He has written so many great songs, as both a solo artist and with the E Street Band, that it would seem almost impossible to try and rank those classics one against another. And yet one fan was daring enough, or maybe foolhardy enough, to try. Following up our Beatles and Stones countdowns, JamsBio presents “No Retreat, No Surrender,” a worst-to-first countdown of every album cut in Springsteen history, plus a few choice outtakes, live classics, and soundtrack songs – that’s 200 tunes ranked and defended. Check out JamsBio.com each day as the countdown is gradually revealed, and prepare to hit the message boards to defend your favorites.

The complete list to date.

The Last Five:

165. “Book of Dreams” (from Lucky Town)

164. “Pony Boy” (from Human Touch)

163. “Waitin’ On A Sunny Day” (from The Rising)

162. “Cross My Heart” (from Human Touch)

161. “Worlds Apart” (from The Rising)

160. “Black Cowboys”

From Devils & Dust

LISTEN HERE

Nobody loves a good sad song more than I do. But there is something about “Black Cowboys” that is just too painfully sad. On an objective level I think it’s one of the finer songs on Devils & Dust, a fully realized production filled with acoustic guitar, tasteful piano and understated, but effective production. The lyrics are much smoother than on some of Bruce’s story songs, and he sings it without a hint of the gnarled accent that mars some of this material.

But, oh, that story just breaks your heart. The saga of Rainey Williams, a mama’s boy who loses that mama to her own weakness, just kills me. When he wordlessly says good-bye to her at her bedside by simply brushing her hair aside and kissing her eyes, well, it’s just brutal, man. And his loneliness at song’s end as he rides a train under an unforgiving moon is palpable. The thought of an innocent bereft of a mother’s unconditional love doesn’t just pluck at the heartstrings, it stomps on them.

Springsteen’s tactics with these songs is to humanize the characters with sharp details in order to shed light on the bigger picture, and he achieves that well enough here. But, honestly, I can listen to “Black Cowboys” maybe a once a year. I need that long in between just to recover.

159. “I’ll Work For Your Love”

From Magic

LISTEN HERE

Is there any other instrumentalist as instrumental to the sound of Bruce’s band as Roy Bittan? Clarence Clemons presence is unmistakable, Stevie Van Zandt and Max Weinberg have the high profiles, and the band has always been greater than the sum of its parts because of its street-gang swagger. Still, Bittan’s piano is at the heart of the E Street sound, and I don’t think any of the other band members would argue that too vehemently.

That piano is the sweetener that draws ears to some of Bruce’s more complex, wordy compositions. This track on Magic is just one example; Bittan’s opening is chill-inducing, recalling the history of so many band classics while still managing to stake out fresh territory.

It sets up the melody and a catchy chorus, compensating for Bruce’s lyrical imagery, which is a tad too intense here. At its core, the song is an ode to devotion and how the mysteries of the world are revealed in the simple details of a woman’s body. But all of the verbosity strains a bit to fit into the 60’s-rock frame of the song. Better is the workmanlike refrain, which is effective in a direct way.

It’s no great blight on the song, though, to say that it goes downhill once that piano intro gives way to the rest of the band; it’s more a compliment to the wondrous work of The Professor, Mr. Roy Bittan.

158. “Good Eye”

From Working on a Dream

LISTEN HERE

Much of Working on a Dream is devoted to the florid pop music and pretty melodies that enticed Springsteen as a youth. But “Good Eye” ain’t florid and it ain’t pretty. It’s as bluesy as the band has gotten in their 2000’s output.

The lyrics are kept to a minimum here, just three verses which consist of one line repeated, in blues fashion, followed by the ominous refrain, “I had my good eye to the dark and my blind eye to the sun.” Bruce yelps them as if he’s calling out through a rusty megaphone, creating a nifty effect that gives a pretty straightforward track some flavor.

Other distinguishing characteristics includes Bruce’s sampled shriek at the start of each musical line, some fiery harmonica, also courtesy of the Boss, and what sounds like a saloon piano. The band plays the heck out of the song, treating it like an A side rather than the somewhat inconsequential lark it is. It is a good excuse for the band to get down and dirty after cleaning up so nice for the rest of the album.

157. “Let’s Be Friends (Skin to Skin)”

From The Rising

LISTEN HERE

Coming directly after a run of dark, even harrowing, songs on The Rising, “Let’s Be Friends” sounds like it was accidentally placed on the album in some sort of pressing mishap. Starting with a hip-hop beat and some lush keyboards, it is definitely on the lighter side of the spectrum for that release.

Thus it is that it sounds pretty alluring in that context, especially when the refrain kicks in with those sweet harmonies. Elsewhere, Springsteen actually trades lines in the chorus with Soozie Tyrell, making it one of the closest approximations of a boy-girl duet in the Boss’ history.

Essentially a plea for a little sexual healing, the song does get mired in a rut by the end; Bruce sings “Let’s be friends” so often that you get the feeling the girl might agree just to get him off her back. But, as out-of-left-field diversions go, it’s harmless fun.

156. “Spare Parts”

From Tunnel of Love

LISTEN HERE

“Bobby said he’d pull out and Bobby stayed in/Janey had a baby and it wasn’t any sin.” So begins “Spare Parts.” That unflinching opening, surrounded by some back-porch acoustic guitar and squawking harmonica, creates a lot of expectations which the remainder of the song only partially fills.

Bruce sets the scene effectively, building up anticipation with pinpoint descriptions (“Mist was on the water, low run the tide”). Alas, I’ve never bought the ending, in which Janey second-guesses her decision to pull a Moses and send her baby adrift. Instead she goes home and hawks Bobby’s engagement ring. That always felt more Hollywood tidy than psychologically accurate to this hombre, rendering the song a bit more trivial than the subject matter warrants.

The acoustic opening also outshines the electric remainder, which has a bit of a tinny sound that hampers its impact. Bruce does get to let loose for a feral guitar solo at the end which expresses a rage that the happy ending squelches. “Spare Parts” is an excellent set of lyrics that don’t quite come together, a near-miss that still displays Springsteen’s prodigious songwriting gifts.

The complete list to date.

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