The song is 33 years old now, but it's resonance is just as powerful today as it was when it was written, if not more so. “Screen door slams, Mary's dress waves,” Springsteen begins, “like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays, Roy Orbison singing for the lonely, Hey, that's me and I want you only, don't send me home again, I just can't face myself alone again.” Compared to other songwriters of his day, or of any day, Springsteen evoked a sense of the literary, that this was a story unfolding, not a mere pop-song confession, or worse, confection.
One can pick almost any line of that song and admire its grace and grit, and the sort-of-recent reissue of the album had music journalists across the world examining the lyric sheet like a cypher, so I'll refrain from a start-to-finish analysis. The line that stuck in my head as I lay in the dawn's early light was the odd romantic overture offered at the end of the first verse:
“...you ain't a beauty but hey, you're alright, and that's alright with me.”Awwwww, isn't that sweet? Doesn't every young damsel dream of the day that her knight in chrome wheels will pull up to the door and profess, “Yeah, you'll do”?
Of course, the song's hero is no kinder to himself, proclaiming, “Now I'm no hero, that's understood, the only redemption I can offer, girl, is beneath this dirty hood.” And with that, the strength of the song is sealed and the unkindness of the blunt physical description is put in perspective---the only way to beat the game is to play the game, and it's not just beauty queens and hometown heroes who are allowed to take a seat at the table.
Again, it is a thoroughly American song, about throwing one's hat in the ring and pulling one's self up by the boot straps, a sentiment that serves as a precursor to the Outkast line that followed 23 years later, “I wanted a piece of the pie for me and my family, so I made it.” Thunder Road celebrates the self-confident spirit that has driven this nation, that the roads lead to the same places no matter who is behind the wheel and victory goes to those who stop dreaming and start driving.
It's a brilliant song, and if there's anyone out there who has never heard it, you are missing out on something special. (The entire album is a masterwork.)
Unfortunately, I'm not thinking about the song this morning so much as that single line---did I sing it aloud in my sleep? Did my wife hear my warbling croon and think, “Yeah, well you're no George Clooney either, pal”? If my wife is inexplicably moody this week, I think I'll know why. Goddam Bruce.
5 comments:
There's one more way the song is quintessentially American: A car is at the center of it. In fact, I'm not entirely sure the song has much to do with the girl at all. She's just an okay-looking ornament for the front seat. The real love affair here is between Bruce (or America) and the automobile.
This is the case with many a Bruce song, from big hits like Born To Run ("wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims and strap your hands 'cross my engines"... gross!) and Rosalita ("together we’re gonna go out tonight and make that highway run") right on down to little overlooked songs like Meeting Across the River ("Hey Eddie, can you give us a ride?").
All pretty unsurprising, given that he grew up in the suburbs of New Jersey, which, like all suburbs, were planned (or rather not planned, or let's say poorly planned) and built around the use of cars -- and thereby became the intolerable, soulless non-places we have come to equate with American suburbia. In such a place, the only noble or desirable or heroic act is ESCAPE -- also a common Bruce theme. "It's a town full of losers, I'm pulling out of here to win" are the last words of Thunder Road. Funny thing, the place having been planned around cars -- with huge distances to cross and big highways being the only way to cross them -- guarantees that any such escape also has to happen in a car.
I don't want to take away from Bruce's formidable poetic prowess here, or your analysis, just pointing out the elephant in the room. The cars in Bruce's songs, like the cars out there, are everywhere, yet they almost escape notice for that reason, and because we've subtly planned our whole lives around them in America. $4-a-gallon gas already has some people re-thinking it, and I think Peak Oil will render Springsteen's romanticized visions of the automobile somewhat quaint.
Ahhhh, Rol, your articulation always makes me smile, the Lennon-esque gnash to my McCartney-esque cheer. (But clearly you've been misinformed about Peak Oil---I've been assured that the solution is simply to drill more places, like Puget Sound and Lake Michigan.)
Thanks for the addition!
You know, that line "You ain't a beauty but hey, you're alright, and that's alright with me" is actually one of my favorite lines in any song, period, and is one of the many reasons I love Bruce as much as I do. Naturally I can't speak for the entire female population (or Bruce himself), and song lyrics are always open to interpretation, but I've always heard that as less of a "Yeah, you'll do" and more of an acknowledgment that those of us who aren't beautiful are people, too.
In a world where every female protagonist in the media (be it movies, tv, novels, or heck, even most songs) is stunningly beautiful (or at least prettier than average), I think it's refreshing for the knight in chrome wheels to say "Yeah, you may not be beautiful but you're awesome, and that's more important."
Like Rol, I'm not trying to take away from your analysis here, and I hope I'm not coming across as antagonistic or bitter (I'm not either); just expressing a slightly different interpretation of the line in question.
Also, and completely unrelated, I've been meaning to email you since January, and will do so as soon as my life slows down to an easy jog from its current sprint - full speed ahead. (It's been a rather crazy first half of the year.)
Well heck, I need to dream about Bruce Springsteen more often---I love both of the replies I've had for this post. Thanks.
Steph, I think your take is more accurate than mine---that's a much more interesting and positive interpretation of the lyric.
I completely see your point about movies , but to me, movie women are rarely "prettier than average", because they're cartoons. I know this isn't the common point of view (if it was, the woman in beer ads would have evolved in the last three decades), but I think most people are beautiful. (Look at anyone and ponder, "IF someone fell in love with this person, what would they see that's beautiful?" In that context, most people glow.)
And you didn't sound antagonistic or bitter at all---you sounded beautiful.
You guys are cute. I didn't take anything as antagonistic. Though now I noticed something else:
"...those of us who aren't beautiful are people too."
Not beautiful eh? Who decided that? How about, "those of us who are people are beautiful too." It's a thought. I'll simply toss this out there: Does there exist, any purely non-subjective standard or ideal of beauty? And if it does, do the movies and TV necessarily have it down?
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