By the time spring 1992 rolled around, Bruce Springsteen hadn't been the biggest name in rock and roll for five or six years. Nevermind, Ten, Achtung Baby, Blood Sugar Sex Magik and Metallica's black album had all been released, as well as Use Your Illusion I and II (not to mention Appetite for Destruction from the previous decade). Still and all, Springsteen was more than a big enough name that there was considerable interest and anticipation in his first new album in five years, never mind his first two non-E Street Band albums, released the same day.
There was therefore considerable disappointment when, it was only grudgingly admitted, the albums weren't really Boss-worthy. After eight studios albums that were not only more or less home runs (giving the debut more than a little benefit of the doubt) but which also showed remarkable growth from album to album, Human Touch and Lucky Town were incredible letdowns. Turned out Bruce Springsteen was not only human after all but very, very human indeed.
A lot of people gravitated towards Lucky Town from the first. Some otherwise extremely astute observers thought they detected at least a whiff of latent racism behind that, given that Human Touch was a soul record, and Lucky Town was more or less straightforward rock and roll of the kind Springsteen had been able to write and play in his sleep for years. And given the makeup of most of Springsteen's audience, it's sadly far from an unreasonable theory.
It was only with that magical 20/20 hindsight that Lucky Town's reputation has revived considerably. Part of that is that its sound (read: mainstream albeit at least slightly stripped down rock and roll) is more accessible to most of Springsteen's hardcore fans. Some of it might be that it's virtually all Springsteen, the boss playing all the instruments himself, joined only by a drummer and a very few other additional instrumentalists on a small number of songs, as compared to Human Touch with its cast of thousands.
But most of it is that the songs are simply better—indeed, significantly better. The weakest track on Lucky Town is at least the equal of and possibly superior to even the best song on Human Touch. Still, by dint of its association with Human Touch, Lucky Town is generally considered one of Springsteen's weakest albums. Which, hey, for any artist, even one of his stature, some record's gotta be the least great, so that's fair.
What isn't fair—not that anyone needs to shed any tears for the critically-acclaimed world-famous millionaire family man in seemingly spectacular health—is that a lot of truly first-rate songs get consequently overlooked. "Local Hero" is not only one of his funniest songs, it's an incisive but not self-pitying look at the transience of fame. "Book of Dreams" and "If I Should Fall Behind" are gorgeous love songs, "Leap of Faith" the powerful (and semi-profane) flipside of the entire "Tunnel of Love" album and "Living Proof" one of the best takes on the joy (and terror) of parenthood, deftly balanced by the sheer terror and anguish of losing a loved one in "Souls of the Departed." For any other major artist, this album would be a career highlight; for Bruce Springsteen it's a low point.
And then there's its closing track, "My Beautiful Reward."
The opening is simply lovely, just a pair of acoustic guitars being picked in time to a gentle hi-hat accompaniment. Soon the full drum kit will be joined by bass and a subtle organ part played by the late Ian McLagan, but for this brief moment, it's still pastoral and intimate.
Then the vocals enter, Springsteen showing off the newly prominent southern twang he'd adopted for this album and which he'd use almost (but not quite) exclusively for the next two decades plus.
Well I sought gold and diamond rings
My own drug to ease the pain that living brings
Walked from the mountain to the valley floor
Searching for my beautiful reward
Searching for my beautiful reward
On the rest of the album, especially but far from exclusively on "Local Hero," Springsteen had already taken aim at his image as the all-American rock god, pure and unsullied in his rock and roll ethics. No drug busts, no selling out to commercials, no tour sponsorships, no crazy huge mansions on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous or blood transfusion or attempts to buy the Elephant Man's bones: Springsteen was far too pure for that. All he needed was rock and roll to sustain him. And yet here he—or his protagonist—is openly stating that's simply not true, that rock and roll was not enough for him, that he indeed sought in material possessions for something to numb his own personal unhappiness.
From a house on a hill a sacred light shines
I walk through these rooms but none of them are mine
Down empty hallways I went from door to door
Searching for my beautiful reward
Searching for my beautiful reward
Once again, as with the first verse, only more so—second verse not quite same as the first—Springsteen's lyrics become, well, a tad more lyrical than had been the standard in his career, certainly since he toned down the Dylanesque wall of words before or with his third album. But here his lyrics, always several notches above most very good songwriters, whether overly verbose in his early years or extraordinarily incisive from Born to Run on, become more overtly poetical than is customary for his writing, with its continuing use of metaphor, an almost unknown facet of writing for him. Symbolism Springsteen used, often and deftly, from the very beginning, but metaphor wasn't one of his common tools.
Also out of the ordinary for him is the additional dip into a minor chord on the word "rooms"—such chord substitutions aren't a regular feature of his writing—lending a certain extra bit of darkness to this verse, a darkness present neither in the first verse nor rest of the song.
Well your hair shone in the sun
I was so high I was the lucky one
Then I came crashing down like a drunk on a barroom floor
Searching for my beautiful reward
Searching for my beautiful reward
The bridge highlights the unusual writing in the verses, as it features a little bit of simile, but no metaphor—much closer to Springsteen's normal style.
Tonight I can feel the cold wind at my back
I'm flyin' high over gray fields my feathers long and black
Down along the river's silent edge I soar
Searching for my beautiful reward
Searching for my beautiful reward
This final verse is interesting, in that this most famously realistic writer of blue collar rock and roll, who'd already in the first two verses explored metaphor, suddenly veers off into dreamlike imagery or even a foray into chremamorphism. And the river reference, as most of the instrumentation drops back out, is surely no accident, not for a writer of his careful, considered nature.
The song ends, as do so many of Springsteen's studio recordings, with a fadeout, underscoring the fact that he still seems to be searching for his elusive prize. And if it hasn't yet been located—and the repeated chord progression for this section would seem to make plain it hasn't, as the stability of the tonic chord is buried between the unresolved dominant and subdominant chords—the tone isn't one of dejection or resignation but rather a placid serenity. He's still searching, and he's enjoying the quest.
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