50 Years Burning Down the Road: Reviewing Every Springsteen Album From Worst to Best

Coming in at #11: Lucky Town

Lucky Town was released the same day as Human Touch on March 31, 1992. I explained Bruce’s decision to part ways with the E Street Band in my Human Touch review as that album was finished long before Bruce started recording this album. However, Bruce decided to sit on it and write more songs which ended up becoming the happy accident, Lucky Town. Bruce recorded Lucky Town at his home studio Thrill Hill West in Beverly Hills and A&M Studios in Los Angeles. While Human Touch featured a core group of session musicians with various other musical contributions, Lucky Town was done in the same vein as Tunnel of Love as Bruce handled most of the instrumentation by himself, this time with Gary Mallaber on drums.

I will start by saying that overall, I like this album because it features Bruce at the top of his songwriting game. I have never witnessed an artist look at himself in the mirror like Bruce does on Lucky Town. I understand if you take that with a grain of salt because it comes from a Bruce-obsessed freak like myself, but once I get into the rundown, I hope you will see what I mean. The lyrics are consistently ingenious track by track and a great reminder of why Bruce is my hero. As I discussed in my Human Touch review, Bruce was rounding the corner of a rough road in his personal life while writing and recording Human Touch and Lucky Town. He had been recently divorced from his first wife Julianne Phillips and got together with Patti Scailfa who had joined the E Street Band in 1984. By the time Lucky Town was finished, Bruce and Patti had their first son Evan, and were subsequently married. I really got into it in my Human Touch review if you want to hear more about Bruce’s personal life around this time, but for the purpose of this review, the most important aspect is that heartbreak, depression, redemption, love, and fatherhood are the direct themes of which Bruce draws from his personal journey.

Now here is the thing, the production and musical arrangements on this album are lackluster, and at times, lazy. I understand opting for a simple approach, especially because most of the songs are lyrically driven, but it sounds unfinished and could have used more love and care. It is probably not fair for me to say that this album would have been 10x better with the E Street Band (which is true) because I see why Bruce wanted to do it all himself given the album’s personal and confessional nature. I was also not born when the album was released, and I have been able to hear what some of these songs sound like live with the E Street Band over the years. The arrangements are much more creative and exciting and radiate the personality within the fibers of each song that are conversely made dull by how they sound on record.

I also have a problem with how the particular instruments sound. Bruce’s guitar sounds awful across the board. His rhythm tone is lifeless and EQ’d to death. There is no sound of pick hitting the string and the treble makes it sound thin and nasally. His lead tone is also pretty awful. There is way too much reverb and the iconic “slap” delay he uses is replaced with a cheap digital chorus pedal that is probably $20 used on eBay right now. The synth sounds have not aged well at all either. They are just pads to beef up the mix, but it is not enough and frankly, it is boring. Meanwhile, the drums are so heavily compressed that it does not even sound like a real person playing. Combine that with Gary Mallaber’s lifeless drumming (which I think was probably under Bruce’s orders) and there is zero nuance. People give Max Weinberg shit because of how simple his playing is, but I am sure he is under similar orders as Gary Mallaber and Max’s play style has woven itself into Bruce’s songwriting. If it were even just Max drumming, this album would be better.

This is what frustrates me. This crop of songs deserved better, and I think Bruce probably agrees. He should have used an outside producer. It would not be until The Rising that Bruce realized the statute of limitations in doing it all in-house so to speak, and I wish he thought about it sooner. Anyway…

Here’s the Rundown:

“Better Days” almost deserves an entire review by itself. Line for line, it is up there with the greatest lyrics that Bruce has ever written. Bruce has always incorporated elements of his own life in his music, but a lot of it is story-driven or channels his own experience through a character and speaks to a larger theme or community. That is how he built his rock stardom. However, this song is clearly autobiographical as the man (or the “fool” he alludes to) in the song meets Bruce’s description and identity with lines like “A life of leisure, and a pirate’s treasure don’t make much for tragedy.” Bruce feels like shit and feels guilty about feeling like shit considering his incredible wealth and career that even other famous musicians would be envious of. Bruce is not the first nor the last songwriter to expose his low self-esteem and discomfort in his own skin. Still, he does not sound forlorn like an emo or grunge singer-songwriter, not whimsical like an indie kid (although “I took a piss at fortune’s sweet kiss” is sort of a hilarious line), but a tired adult conditioned to move forward with the faith that this next chapter of his life is going to save it. Hope is a brave but necessary quality. Even when he is singing about himself, wicked clever lines like “It’s a sad man my friend who’s living in his own skin, and can’t stand the company” expose Bruce’s humanity, which is hard not to latch on to and reflect on the times when you felt the same way.

If only the “Better Days” recording were better. I loathe the sound of the drums on this track and I do not know what Bruce and Chuck Plotkin were thinking. It sounds like utter shit. It also feels empty with just guitar, bass, drums, and a synth pad. There needs to be at least one other instrument playing something melodic that weaves into Bruce’s vocal melody. It is desperate for texture. However, while I generally hate a rock and roll choir, the background vocals are killer on this tune.

“Lucky Town” is an all-time favorite of mine. The song reminds me of a classic era ‘78-’84 rocker with its verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-solo-verse-chorus structure that many of those songs have. The lyrics remind me of this era as well with its bleak setting and journey to find appeasement or spiritual freedom among darkness and desolation. Only this time, the setting is within the body and mind itself, and “lucky town” is a metaphor for love. Although, “Lucky Town” reminds us that love is a two-way street for an individual. There is the love that someone gives you, but in order to feel it you have to open yourself up to receive it. Bruce has referred to his inability to live up to the second half of that equation at many points in his life.

The pattern seems to be an alternation of me saying how much I love something and then how much I hate it, and I regret that it has to be this way. However, what was Bruce thinking with the guitar tone on this song? It is just hideous, it barely even sounds like a guitar. I think he may have just gone direct input into the mixing board without an amp or anything with the lead guitar tone. It is frustrating. The arrangement suffers from the same emptiness I have mentioned earlier.

The third track “Local Hero” continues Bruce’s reflections on his current identity this time, not as a human being or lover, but as a rock star. Neil Young sings famously “it’s better to burn out than to fade away” referring to rock and roll, and in 1992, many 70s rockstars had burnt out leaving a legacy of great influence and myth. After four years since his last album and both a rock and roll and marriage divorce, it seemed like Bruce was on the track to fade away, and “Local Hero” shows this was on his mind. Bruce achieved global icon status in the mid-80s, but the famous life chewed him up and spit him out. Bruce jokes about not being recognized in his hometown of Freehold, New Jersey (which apparently, is a true story), but I think he was also unrecognizable to himself when all was said and done. Bruce sings some of his funniest lines in “Local Hero”. “First they made me king, then they made me pope, then they dropped the rope” is a prime example. For whatever reason, the drums sound much better on this song. They still do not sound great, but not at the level where I am as bothered by it.

“If I Should Fall Behind” is a popular wedding song for Bruce fans. It is sweet without being sappy and reminds me of some of the classic Bob Dylan love songs like “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright” and “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go” with its folky cadence. I think the recording is a bit flat and the vocal is a nasally, unflattering spot in Bruce’s vocal range. This song shined on the Reunion Tour in 1999 and 2000 during which it was played every night with all E Street Band members taking turns leading vocals over a simple picked electric guitar pattern. I think that version better encompasses the companionship theme at the heart of the song. Plus, any time the Big Man sings, it is special.

“Leap of Faith” resumes the fun with various tongue-in-cheek metaphors describing the captivity and salvation that a woman’s love provides for Bruce. As a baseball fan, I always liked the line “I grabbed you baby like a wild pitch.” “Your legs were heaven, your breasts were the altar, your body was the holy land” always seemed silly to me. I think it is funny that Bruce was confident enough to write something that silly, and deliver the line in a way where we are laughing with him and not at him. Otherwise, “Leap of Faith” is a great rock song with a flattering lead vocal from Bruce. The arrangement still leaves something to be desired, and I am not a fan of the background gospel vocals on this one—in this case, it cheeses up the recording and makes the biblical references a bit too on the nose.

The back half of the album opens with the underwhelming “The Big Muddy.” The theme harkens back to the Nebraska album with its references to desperation and crime, but this time the sin lies in the hands of the rich instead of the poor. Bruce again references his wealth as his “old friend” gouges him for a favor and quips “don’t tell me that the rich don’t know sooner or later, it all comes down to money.” The recording is ominous with Bruce’s vocals drenched in reverb and earthy acoustic slide guitar coming in through the left speaker, but ultimately, the writing is bland and uninspiring, which is rare of Lucky Town.

It picks back up with “Living Proof”, a pivotal track in Bruce’s career written about his first son, Evan. The profound soul-searching and self-reflection that drives the first half of Lucky Town returns as Bruce’s feelings of futility fester. The song is about how fatherhood saved him. The fragility of his young son’s life is the blessing he needs to become unstuck. As a father, there is no choice but to set your self-pity aside and dedicate yourself to being the best you can be for your kid. I think before the birth of his son, Bruce struggled to find a reason to change or regain his pride with some immovable mental roadblock between himself and freedom. This is evident in the line “It’s been a long, long drought baby, but tonight rain’s pouring down on our roof.” It signifies a beacon of hope disrupting deep unfillable emptiness. The bridge illustrates Bruce’s realization of how his past and his own personal demons are trapping him. When I think of some of my favorite Bruce lyrics, the following lines always come to mind: “You shot through my anger and my rage to show me my prison was just an open cage, with no keys no guards, just one frightened man and some old shadows for bars.” Forget the brilliance of the lyrics themselves, the triumph and soul with which Bruce sings them make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. In fact, the whole lead vocal is one of Bruce’s best on record. Overall, the production and the arrangement suffer from the same handicaps I have been describing throughout this review, but for this track, it doesn’t matter. A special song.

Perhaps my favorite song on the album is followed by my least favorite in “Book of Dreams.” The song finds a man at a wedding, which I interpret as his own. First, he watches from a distance as the wedding ritual unfolds. Then he soaks it in on the dancefloor with the bride. I think Bruce is trying to separate his anxiety about getting married and take in the beauty of the celebration without the cynicism he felt the first time he got married. The lyrics are a bit corny. I am not so fond of the verse “In the darkness, my fingers slip across your skin, I feel your sweet reply, the room fades away, and suddenly I’m way up high.” The melody is also boring and Bruce’s singing is monotone. It doesn’t move me.

“Souls of the Departed” is probably the best example of an amazing song being botched by its arrangement on this album. I know this because of the fire and rage of the versions that Bruce performed live with the E Street Band on The Rising Tour and the Vote For Change Tour. There is a specific version from 2004 with Neil Young on lead guitar and it absolutely burns the house down.

This is an angry and hopeless song on an album full of hope and rebirth. It is also the only song political song Lucky Town. Bruce sings about young innocent lives being destroyed in the wake of rich politicians’ and lobbyists’ negligence and carelessness without a hint of remorse or accountability. He goes from a battlefield in Iraq where a young Lieutenant sorts through the belongings of dead soldiers to the streets of Compton where a seven-year-old boy is gunned down. These lives were caught in the crossfire in a nation where the “self-made men” have created danger, put innocent lives at risk, and are unmoved by the lives lost to make a change as long as their pockets are being filled. The latter scene especially speaks to me as Bruce illustrates the young boy’s mother crying in agony over the death of her little boy. It always struck me as one of the most gutwrenching scenes in Bruce’s music. At the end of the song, Bruce thinks about his young son and his frustration that he will never be able to fully protect him from the dangers of society. He can do the best he can, but at the end of the day, he is helpless like the rest of us. The last verse speaks to a dark truth about a capitalist society that sees only power and wealth as a motivation to improve society and protect its people. At what point does the motivation become empathy?

The recording is so bad. The drums are so robotic and undynamic. The beat never changes, and there is barely even a drum fill. The guitar tone is so bad and there is no instrumentation, personality, or color in the arrangement and it takes away from the song. It is almost lazy because we know Bruce is capable of more. This one needs the E Street Band badly and I am grateful he brought it back and breathed some new life into it.

It is interesting that an album categorized as upbeat and hopeful ends on such a somber note with “Souls of the Departed” and the closing track “My Beautiful Reward.” In “My Beautiful Reward”, Bruce does one more act of self-reflection pondering being on the other end of mega-stardom with riches and a wife and all his dreams seemingly fulfilled, but still searching to fill an emptiness. He sings about a sort of imposter syndrome walking the halls of a house that does not feel like it belongs to him, or even that his life belongs to him. It seems like a crisis of identity; the reward that he is seeking is only something that can be found within himself. At the end of Lucky Town, Bruce is aware of it and is actively trying to get to that place, acknowledging that it is a long but necessary road. I guess there is an element of hope in that search. I like this recording and Ian McLagan’s organ contributions are nice. It is a nice end to Lucky Town.