Into that great void my soul be hurled

I’ve chatted about my recent infatuation with the Boss once or twice before. But it’s not stopping – Spotify is aiding me in my discovery of his back catalogue and I’ve had an entire run through now; at least, I’m almost there, I keep getting distracted by his live 1975-1985 record. Three discs and it flies by without a moment’s thought. I get times when I’m obsessed with just one song (most recently it was Morrissey’s Everyday is like Sunday, but I can also count To Love Somebody and Landed in there). With Springsteen, I’m having difficulty deciding just what that would be. 

I thought it could be Darkness On The Edge Of Town, a thudding Stax-a-like of a rhythm. Then I thought it could be the evergreen Born To Run, with its thunderous drum rolls and epic full-band break down. Most recently I thought it was going to be Highway Patrolman – a haunting, bleak affair concerning Patrolman Joe Roberts and his no-good brother Frankie. “I must have drove about a hundred and ten ‘cross Michigan county that night.”

But my latest guess is one that’s crept into conscious thought is Nebraska, one of the first songs to draw me in. The recorded version is plenty haunting, all acoustic lament and murder ballad across the badlands of the far midwest. But the live version is so much more hypnotic – with the band booming away in the distance (as the original record was intended to be) it’s dark and the Boss’ voice has never been so affecting. So that wins today.

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