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:

150. “Open All Night” (from Nebraska)

149. “Does This Bus Stop At 82nd Street?” (from Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J.)

148. “Ramrod” (from The River)

147. “The Big Muddy” (from Lucky Town)

147. “Cadillac Ranch” (from The River)

145. “Matamoros Banks”

From Devils & Dust

LISTEN HERE

Sending Devils & Dust out on a sad yet somehow graceful note, “Matamoros Banks” finds Bruce inhabiting the skin of an illegal immigrant attempting to cross the border. Springsteen takes the unique approach of telling the tale in reverse, so that we find out very quickly that this journey is destined to fail.

By depicting, in graphic detail, the dead body being torn apart in the river, Bruce is trying to show the horrors of the situation, and he maybe succeeds a too well. Set against that lovely melody, it’s a little too jarring a juxtaposition for comfort.

Much better are the closing verses, which finds this character in hopeful pursuit of his love, who waits on the other side. His dogged determination is moving, and it makes it all the more heartbreaking at song’s end when he dives into the river to avoid the gunshots he hears. Suddenly, the Matamoros Banks become a spiritual destination, since the only way the two lovers will now be reunited is in the afterlife.

It’s a tenderly sad finish, but the dignity with which Bruce portrays the character makes his plight even more powerful, and it shines a harsh light on the humanity wasted. Whatever your views on the issue, “Matamoros Banks” reminds you of what’s at stake.

144. “Real World”

From Human Touch

LISTEN HERE

I’ve read that Springsteen has played this song live in a slowed-down, stripped-down fashion, bemoaning the fact that the recorded version got away from him a bit. I can see his point in some ways. Certainly, the anvil percussion effect is distracting at best, and Bruce screams the song more than he sings it, stripping it of some of its tenderness. And the less said about Springsteen’s wail-a-thon with Sam Moore during the fadeout the better.

If you can put those things aside though, it’s an otherwise solid performance by the ad hoc band assembled for Human Touch. Roy Bittan wrote the music with Bruce filling in the lyrics, an arrangement unprecedented in Bruce’s career. The rhythm section of Randy Jackson on bass and Jeff Porcaro on drums provide this song with just enough R&B sway to differentiate it from some other, more generic rockers on the album.

The lyrics find The Boss trying to overcome the scars of his past and looking toward the future without reservation or rancor. He can understand the reality of love, the day-to-day grind: “Aint no church bells ringing/Ain’t no flags unfurled/Just you me and the love we’re bringing into the real world.” He finally shakes off all of his doubt by song’s end, urging his love to come with him and ride “the tumblin’ dice.” If love is a gamble, it’s better to risk it all than play it safe, and “Real World” comes to that conclusion in satisfying fashion.

143. “Life Itself”

From Working On a Dream

LISTEN HERE

This is a love song drenched in darkness. Two lost souls grasp at each other with everything they have in the midst of turmoil and strife, finding a moment of grace amidst the chaos. In the final verse, however, that grace appears to be fleeting, as the narrator becomes distraught at the way that two people can destroy the thing that matters most simply out of their own weakness.

That darkness permeates the music as well, all moody, minor-key guitar. Some moments of light do bust through, noticeably the sighing backing vocals and the backwards guitar in the breaks. Those little touches from producer Brendan O’Brien add just the right bit of mystery to the construction.

“Life Itself” certainly doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but the solid performance by the band, an affecting vocal by The Boss, and a mature look at the perils both within and without a relationship, make it a worthy addition to the man’s brilliant oeuvre.

142. “Galveston Bay”

From The Ghost of Tom Joad

LISTEN HERE

Your feelings for “Galveston Bay” likely depend on your tolerance for doing a little work to go with your listening pleasure. This song doesn’t have anything to grab your attention right up front. The music is minimal, just some acoustic guitars by Bruce and distant keyboards. The melody is an afterthought, with Bruce often straying from the main song structure to squeeze in an extra line here and there if the story dictates it. There certainly isn’t any hook.

The story, however, is a stunner. Two men fish the same waters: A Vietnamese immigrant who fought alongside the Americans in the Vietnam War and an American vet. Xenophobia prevents the two from seeing their connection and tragedy intervenes. Bruce just sticks to the details, and leaves any judgment of these two men out of the equation.

In the end, the Vietnam vet resists the urge to seek vengeance on the immigrant, but it doesn’t feel like a redemptive moment in any way. The immigrant has been stained by the blood he’s been forced to shed, and the American is stained for even contemplating the act he eventually decides against. As they fish the waters at song’s end, the unease hangs heavy in the air. It may not be a feel-good pop song, but “Galveston Bay” is worth the effort.

141. “Gypsy Biker”

From Magic

LISTEN HERE

Springsteen has often shined a spotlight on the difficulties of veterans returning home from wars. In “Gypsy Biker,” it’s those left behind who are in the spotlight, because the returnee here is coming home in a coffin. It’s a harrowing portrait of the way that war can tear apart the lives of even those who never fire a gun.

The folks left behind here show their grief in different ways, all telling. Eventually they take the bike, polished for the deceased’s return, and burn it in a useless tribute. But the narrator holds even less regard for those who would try to honor his brother’s death: “The favored march up over the hill/In some fool’s parade/Shoutin’ victory for the righteous/But there ain’t much here but graves.” The small towns seem to bear the brunt of war’s damage on the homefront, as Bruce makes it chillingly clear.

I just wish the arrangement didn’t sound so claustrophobic. You hear a lot of talk these days about the poor production techniques used so that songs sound better on computers. Indeed, once the acoustic guitar and harmonica opening gives way to the drums and electric guitars, everything blends into a drone, making even Bruce’s vocals hard to distinguish. That’s a shame, because “Gypsy Biker” is a story that needs to be clearly heard.

The complete list to date.

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