ALBUM REVIEWS
Rock
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN Wrecking Ball (Sony Music Canada)
(out of 4)
The bard of proletariat conscience is back and Bruce Springsteen is taking aim at the 1 per cent with . . . well, a Wrecking
Ball. In the battle of haves versus have-nots, this is the musical equivalent of Occupy Springsteen, although being preached to about the heartlessness of the privileged by a rock ’n’ roll millionaire may ring a little shallow. Regardless, on his 17th album, The Boss is in his element:
Wrecking Ball is an 11-song tour de force of seething rockers, distressed ballads and a brave, barefaced dip into slavery imagery as dramatized by R&B, gospel and rap proselytizing. Starting with the pounding “We Take Care of Our Own,” an indictment of the U.S. political system that may be more cynical than the widely misinterpreted “Born in the U.S.A.,” Springsteen paints an America riddled with mistrust (“Easy Money”); class elimination (the Irish-lilted “Shackled and Drawn”); bluecollar subsistence (“Jack of All Trades”); economic injustice (“Death to My Hometown”); angry, resigned despair (“This Depression,” “Wrecking Ball”); national disenchantment (“Rocky Ground”); abandonment (“Land of Hope and Dreams”) and hope (“We Are Alive”). The album’s gem is the 11-minute stretch of “Rocky Ground,” which starts off with a fire-and-brimstone preacher yelling over a gospel choir, building into a soulfully transcendent crescendo with the assistance of singer Michelle Moore, and segues into the choir-accompanied “Land of Hope and Dreams.” It shows Springsteen in a different, experimental light, offering comfort that even though he doesn’t have to, he’s still pushing stylistic boundaries . . . and pushing back against The Man. One side note: this is Springsteen’s first effort without sax foil Clarence Clemons, although he squeezes him into a couple of tracks recorded before Clemons succumbed to a stroke last June. The burning, wailing tenor sax will be missed.