Born to Run and Bruce Springsteen’s Legacy, Half a Century Later
by Violeta Gonzalez, Contributor
It’s been a big year for The Boss. His long-awaited Tracks II, comprising over five hours of previously-unreleased music, came out in June; his biopic Deliver Me From Nowhere, starring Jeremy Allen White, is currently showing; the movie’s debut was accompanied by the release of a long-withheld electric version of his solo album Nebraska.
One might wonder why we should still care about Bruce Springsteen; this is quite a bit for an older gentleman who hasn’t been at the height of his fame since his 30s, after all. And there happens to be a perfect point of reference with which to discuss this question: his third album Born to Run, which just celebrated its 50th anniversary in August.
Born to Run was a step up from any of Springsteen’s previous projects; coming out of limited commercial success with his first two records, he effectively only had one more shot. This desperation was reflected in the album’s creation, with it taking a staggering year and a half to record—far more than the four months allocated for each of his first two. Aiming to emulate Phil Spector’s complex “wall of sound” production style, the project grappled with an entirely new level of intricacy.
This, and Springsteen became utterly obsessive. Every note, rhythm, texture, chord and syllable had to be perfect; he would spend hours and days rewriting lyrics, thinking, playing through the same notes again and again to evoke just the right feeling. The eponymous track alone took six months to finalize. So egregious was his hypercriticality that his ever-loyal backing band almost walked out on him.
Despite these circumstances, Born to Run was, of course, eventually completed in July of 1975, and the musicians’ grueling efforts did not go to waste; it was an unimaginable success. Released that August, by September it becae his first charting album; by October, previously-unknown Springsteen was on the covers of Newsweek and Time.
He became a sensation overnight. For three years, he and his band were constantly on tour; and by the time his double album The River rolled around in 1980, he had begun to solidify the legendary status that Born in the U.S.A. would later cement. The iconic figure of Bruce Springsteen owes its existence to Born to Run—and with everything the album has to unpack, it would be easy to talk about the music for hours. But I’d like to zoom out a bit.
Springsteen has a long history of political activism. Having grown up in a blue-collar family, a significant number of his songs focus on the struggles of working-class people in America. He advocated for LGBTQ rights long before landmark U.S. legislation, most notably with his song “Streets of Philadelphia,” composed for Philadelphia (1993), one of the first mainstream American movies to openly discuss the AIDS epidemic. He’s spoken in support of gender equality, environmental activism, accessible healthcare, and immigrants’ rights. He was a draft dodger, with Born in the U.S.A.’s eponymous track—which he later refused to let Ronald Reagan use for his presidential campaign—staunchly criticizing the Vietnam War. He was featured in Amnesty International’s 1988 Human Rights Now! concerts, raising money to fight human rights abuses worldwide. More recently, he’s long hated Trump; in Manchester just this May he spoke quite at length about the current presidential administration, and has continued to throughout his tour.
“The last check on power, after the checks and balances of government have failed, are the people, you and me,” he said. “Now, that's all that stands between democracy and authoritarianism.”
On Born to Run’s famous cover, Springsteen shares a private smile with the person whose shoulder he leans on. Flipping the record sleeve over, 1975 fans would have completed the picture; Clarence Clemons—saxophonist in the E Street Band and one of Springsteen’s closest friends—supports Springsteen and plays his instrument as he looks on at the camera. As rock and roll became continuously more removed from its African-American roots in the racially divided United States of the 1960s and 70s, this immortalized moment of kinship between Springsteen and Clemons sent—and still sends—a clear message in support of unity, both in artistic expression and American society as a whole.
Thus here was born Springsteen’s political voice, with the subsequent fame Born to Run gave him allowing him to pursue more explicitly political avenues. And, in the 52 years of his professional career, the love that he continuously shows—for those who grew up like him, for those who look like him and for those that don’t, and for the greater, brighter American people—has shone through.
He has stood to demonstrate that any one voice has the power to make a difference. Half a century later, he continues to put his to use; and that’s why we should still care about Bruce Springsteen.
“I have hope because I believe in the truth of the great American writer James Baldwin,” he also stated in Manchester. “He said, in this world, there isn't as much humanity as one would like. But there's enough.”
Endless terrifying possibilities lie in the near future of today’s world. Still, in our own jungleland, we—just as Springsteen did as a young man—find our own way to share our voices, come together, and incite change. And as you do, in the meantime—if you’re curious—listen to Born to Run. It’s pretty good; I think so, anyway.
