The Springsteen connection

Reading this blog post about Ryan Van Winkle last week, I was interested to see that he's clearly a Bruce Springsteen fan (if you follow the links, you'll see he's also a huge fan of the late, great Warren Zevon).

Just a day or two earlier, I'd noticed that Birmingham poet Joel Lane also has a mild Springsteen fixation. In his (excellent) latest collection, The Autumn Myth, there's a poem that references him, and his previous book of poetry was even called Trouble In The Heartland, which all those Bruce fans out there will recognise as a line from his song Badlands.

Two things intrigue me. One is that, not so long ago, admitting to liking New Jersey's favourite son was very definitely a totally uncool thing to do. Maybe it still is, but in that case it's nice to see these two poets caring not a fig for cultural fashion.

Secondly, both seem to centre their references on Springsteen's 1978 album Darkness On The Edge Of Town (of course, that's based on a very limited reading of both). It was a stripped-down, raw-edged record, in which the romance of the early albums was largely abandoned in favour of gritty realism. Perhaps it's the economic climate we're living in that makes it a touchstone again - perhaps it's just coincidence.

Anyway, I'm happy to admit to being a long-time Springsteen fan, although I do think his output has been extremely uneven over the years. Darkness... would probably be my second-favourite of his albums - my number one would be his (largely uncharacteristic) second album, The Wild, The Innocent And The E Street Shuffle, which above all sounds like a band having a lot of fun.

Werewolves of London

I've just been re-reading a book called Hotel California: Singer-songwriters and Cocaine Cowboys in the LA Canyons, by Barney Hoskyns. It traces the history of all those Californian bands and artists of the era 1965-1977 (approx.), and there's not many of them come out of it smelling of roses. Joni Mitchell and Neil Young at least score more points for artistic integrity than most, but basically it's a tale of monstrous egos running out of control, and ideals being sold to the highest bidder.

I'm not a huge fan of many of the artists featured (aside from Young) - Jackson Browne and his ilk always came over as a bit too smug for their own good - but I do love the late, great Warren Zevon, who features in the book as something of a footnote. He was a bit like a more rock and roll version of Randy Newman (to be fair, I like Newman too), but sadly, even now, he doesn't get the credit he deserves.

Anyway, the book set me searching YouTube for vids of the Big Z, and here he is performing his (almost) novelty hit, Werewolves Of London. OK, so it's a bit silly, but listen to those lyrics. That line "Huh! I'd like to meet his tailor" makes me laugh out loud every time.