Bruce Springsteen is a shameless misery merchant, Save Jerseyans. Consider his catalogue, and you don’t even need to analyze the lyrics. Just go with the titles:
“The River” – unwanted pregnancy and lost youth.
“Stolen Car” – emotional distress.
“Racing in the Street” – apathy?
“Wreck on the Highway” – fragility of mortality!
“You’re Missing” – grief/depression…
And let’s not even get into “Streets of Philadelphia.”
I’ve never been a huge fan. I also won’t pretend that I haven’t – with some regularity in the past – let Born to Run or Dancing in the Dark roar on my car radio on a Friday in July as I battled Atlantic City Expressway eastbound traffic. But the Boss – like many celebrities – has become insufferable in the era of viral TDS which not only makes his depressing lyrics all the less tolerable BUT also underscores how out of touch this guy really is.
He’s been a millionaire since his ’20s. Now he’s 76 and a billionaire, having spent half a century singing about social and economic problems which he hasn’t experienced since at least the Ford Administration?
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