Bruce by Peter Ames Carlin (2013. Touchtone (Kindle version) ISBN 9781439191835)
Simultaneously reading biographies of two of America’s most beloved and iconic (and misunderstood) singer/songwriters is a first for me. I generally alternate between fiction and biography, rarely reading two novels or two memoirs in a row. But, for some reason, maybe because I’m slated to MC a musical variety fundraiser in April, or maybe because the stars were aligned, or maybe because I simply couldn’t resist peeking into the private lives of Bruce Springsteen and Johnny Cash, I ended up reading Robert Hilburn’s spectacular treatment of the Man in Black (see below for review) in print and Peter Ames Carlin’s fine depiction of the life of the Boss on Kindle at the same time. And I have to say, between the two books, it’s hard to pick a clear winner. I give the edge to Hilburn’s effort if only because the story, sad as it may be, is complete, whereas Springsteen’s story has yet to conclude. Which, while it makes for a less sensational read, is a very good thing for those of us who love great lyrics and songs.
The Boss is here, looming small and afraid of his father during his early life, to loud and unapologetic as he decides, as an established superstar of rock, to call it quits with the E Street Band. If you’ve never seen a Springsteen concert, Carlin’s depiction of the man in this biography highlights in vivid detail the one attribute of the Boss that will linger with you long after you leave an E Street Band live show: Bruce Springsteen is the hardest working showman to ever pick up a Fender. There is no one, I repeat no one, in the music business who even comes close. That trait, Springsteen’s working class ethic, something as ingrained in the man as his social anxiety and his need to seek solitude, claims center stage in this story.
Much like Robert Hilburn does in Johnny Cash, Peter Carlin builds a fairly traditional linear depiction of Springsteen’s life. The poverty, the angst, the father/son conflict, the familial tragedy of losing a sister at a tender age all form the boy who, after finding solace in music and his innate genius as a songwriter, becomes the Boss. The tortured genius of Van Gogh or Hemingway or Woolf comes to mind when you plow through the interpersonal and professional hallmarks of Springsteen’s life depicted in this book. But whereas the lives of those creative forces all met with sad and bitter ends, at least as of today, the Boss has overcome his internal and external demons to remain an authentic American voice. Much of Bruce’s survival appears to be the product, at least as the story has unfolded to date, of his relationship with his wife and fellow E Street Band mate, Patti Scialfa: the mother of Springsteen’s three children and, at least at portrayed from a distance by Carlin, the center of the Boss’s mental stability and his universe.
Carlin had enough access to Springsteen and his immediate family, friends, and the band during the research and writing of this book to bring new insights and clarity to one of the 20th century’s truly great artists. And, as pointed out by the success of High Hopes, Springsteen’s most recent album (another quality effort that incorporates Tommy Morello from Rage Against the Machine into the band’s intimate and incestuous fabric to add another layer of musicianship and change to an already excellent discography) the water carrying bucket of the New Jersey Devil has not yet reached the bottom of the well of his creativity.
Give a listen to “American Skin”, a song written about the shooting of an unarmed immigrant to America by four New York cops, and let the music convince you if Carlin and I cannot: The best is yet to come.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nghqjBwZTiE
4 and 1/2 stars out of 5.
Peace.
Mark
