Looking Back

 Don't ask me for my review of Deliver Me From Nowhere. 

You don't want to hear it. Or, rather, you won't be able to make much use out of it. 

As I sat in the theater next to my son, a Springsteen fan perhaps by osmosis, and genetics, I nodded my head in agreement, and checked off all the points. From the TEAC four-track cassette recorder he brought to his rental home in Colts Neck, New Jersey to the pained interactions with his friend and manager Jon Landau about the album he created there. 

I waded through the stories about his childhood that I had already filed away as part of the legend. I had been reading about Bruce Springsteen's journey into the light for five decades. I had been listening to the music all that time. 

Carefully. 

The songs on the record about which this movie was made have deep and intimate connections to my life. Back in 1982, I had only recently become a devotee, having seen a show at Red Rocks that changed the way I felt about Bruce and live music. Living in the middle of the country, I didn't have as many chances back then to catch "the future of rock and roll." When I started following the saga of Springsteen's follow-up to his double album, The River, there was a lot of talk about an "acoustic folk album." My good friend and fellow fanatic felt this was just exactly what would be showing "the man" who really was The Boss. 

We were not disappointed. 

Back in the movie theater, I kept track of the songs and the inspirations and waited for the inevitable conclusion. Without press, without a tour, without the artist's face on the cover, Nebraska went all the way to number three on the Billboard Album chart. And it stayed there for four weeks. I suppose I would like to take the tiniest bit of credit for that. I would also like to take credit for the success of Born In The USA, which came out two years later and became a pop culture phenomenon. On second thought, I think I'll just let MTV be in charge of that one. 

When the curtain closed and the lights came up, I felt as though I had been looking through an old scrapbook, a feeling not unlike the one I had after watching Netflix's DEVO documentary. I tend to wear my fanboy badge pretty wide and high, so there wasn't a lot of details that I had missed from the careers of either the spudboys nor Bruce. I felt satisfied with my credentials as a supporter of their contributions to the world of music. Those contributions to my world. 

Walking out into the day with my son who has been to his share of Springsteen shows with me, we reflected on our shared experience. It was a reminder. Review before the big exam. 

I'm pretty sure I could pass.