 |
||||||||
 |
||||||||
|
||||||||
|
The Rising is imperfectly redemptive
By GINA VIVINETTO, Times Pop Music Critic Everything you've heard about The Rising, Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band's first album of new material together since 1984, is true. 1. The Rising, in stores today, has the same E Street vibe we last heard on Born In the U.S.A. 2. The Rising sounds like it was made by a completely different band. It just depends on the song you're hearing. The Rising is one of the few recent discs that hasn't been widely heard before its release. Springsteen's folks did their mightiest to keep fans from getting any of The Rising's 15 tunes before today, even managing to make Internet swapping tougher than usual. The Boss's camp didn't send advance CDs to critics until the last minute. (I got my copy Monday.) For the first time in years, Springsteen is working with a producer outside his circle, Brendan O'Brien, known for his work with grungers Stone Temple Pilots, Pearl Jam and Rage Against the Machine. Not that Springsteen, 52, has gone all edgy on us. He delivers his same soulful rock, filled with earnest everyman lyrics detailing the blue-collar life. But The Rising, which he has said is largely a response to the terrorist attacks on Sept. 11, finds him experimenting with world music and trippy beats. The world of pop music is fickle. One minute rap is hip, and the next it's "emo" or garage rock. So, when an artist as huge as Springsteen, whose last solo album was released in 1995, takes years between albums, it's tempting to toss dirt on the coffin. Often the results are out of touch; Michael Jackson's insipid 2001 Invincible comes to mind. But Invincible stunk because the singer stopped evolving as an artist a decade ago. That's not so with Springsteen. He maintains his gritty dignity but clearly is interested in new approaches. Quite a bit of The Rising resembles the violin-drenched jamminess of the Dave Matthews Band, but it maintains the camaraderie of the E Street Band, which knows a thing or two about jamminess. One of Springsteen's messages since the early 1970s has been that rock 'n' roll, when done with integrity, offers spiritual salvation. The Rising sets the tone with a song collection detailing life's agonies and thrills. It's no accident that the title track occurs near the album's end, as if Springsteen is grabbing our hands, raising them up and urging us to go on. The Rising is not a perfect album, but it's tough and honest. Steeped in images of ruin, The Rising's themes are the opposite, brimming with notions of redemption and recovery. To some Springsteen zealots, The Rising will sound like the resurrection of an artist who sings the gospel of the working man. To others, the album will be a return to the glory days of Born In the U.S.A., updating the pressures, desolation, pain and, yes, joys of living right this minute in America. The album begins with the upbeat Lonesome Day, filled with bright strings and organ. You're not alone if you have visions of the Dave Matthews Band dancing to that violin and cello. Springsteen even does some Matthews-esque "yodeling." Into the Fire is a Celtic-tinged rocker, buoyed by drummer Max Weinberg's strident skin-pounding. The redemptive tone is accented by the charm of a glockenspiel. "May your strength give us strength, may your faith give us faith," sing Springsteen and backup gospel singers. Things start sounding like the old E Street Band on Waitin' on a Sunny Day. Is this an outtake from the Born In the U.S.A. sessions? Weinberg's punchy drums, Springsteen's swaggering, soulful delivery -- think Glory Days -- and Clarence Clemons' woozy saxophone lines take us back. The deceptively gentle Nothing Man simmers in sultriness like I'm On Fire. A lost man narrates about alienation and how bleak his life has turned -- or has it ended? "You want courage?" the man asks. "I'll show you courage you can't understand." Next he asks for what he really wants, a kiss. Kissing is referenced throughout the album, which shouldn't surprise us from the guy who wanted to die with Wendy in that everlasting kiss. We're kissing again on Countin' on a Miracle, a song that spins out with unfortunate bombast. One quibble with unsubtle Springsteen is that he's too eager to end things with fist pumping and pageantry. Not everything has to be an anthem, and somebody should tell his acolyte Melissa Etheridge the same. The bleak Empty Sky, with images of "blood on the streets" and evil trees, is sung by an angry man who wants not only a kiss but "an eye for an eye." The Rising's oddities and missteps include: Worlds Apart, the aforementioned world beat tune, features Springsteen crooning over layers of Pakistani singing. No doubt it will make Sting salivate. It's a lovely song, but doesn't it come across as one of those Internet hoaxes, two songs spliced together for kicks? The dance clubby Let's Be Friends (Skin to Skin), features trip-hop beats, tinkly piano and wailing soul singers. Does it work?. Not at all. Points for playfulness? Sure. Springsteen growls mightily on the gritty Further On (Up The Road), but the song is a throwaway. He's redeemed by Mary's Place, showcasing terrific songwriting that invokes images of Buddha and angels in a tale of good times at the neighborhood joint. The tune offers one of those delicious E Street choruses, big and bouncy, filled with zippy organ and irrepressible spirit. The Rising is uneven, but it engages, and it's proof that Springsteen and the E Street Band are still contenders. It finishes with My City of Ruins, with a narrator urging us to "Come on, rise up!" (Springsteen wrote the song before Sept. 11, and he performed it on the national telethon to raise money for victims of the attacks.) Springsteen may not save our souls with his rock 'n' roll, but thank goodness the guy's still trying.B.
 © 2006 • All Rights Reserved • Tampa Bay Times
490 First Avenue South • St. Petersburg, FL 33701 • 727-893-8111 
|
From the wire |
