Bruce Springsteen, The Promise : The Darkness on the Edge of Town Story

Although about 90% of the content on this blog is about music, I rarely give straight-up record reviews. This is primarily because records take me a long time to process, usually about a year. I really don't know how music critics have the ability to listen a few times and deliver their take. I can do so with movies and books, but music takes almost endless listens. And more often than not, the truly great records take a long, long time. The best ones are never fully absorbed.

It's little surprise that the Darkness box set had me giddy, and bordering on manic. Okay, manic. As I've mentioned in earlier posts, Darkness on the Edge of Town is much more than a record for me. I can say with absolute certainty that it played a large part in shaping my views, outlook, understanding, and morals. Growing up short on mentors, it was this record, in my early twenties, that taught me the lessons I needed and longed for. It was the characters, the landscape, the emotion and the lives. I related to it all and it's sat within me ever since. When I quit a job to volunteer full-time for John Kerry's presidential campaign, such a move can be traced back to Darkness. When I opted to study sociology and black studies over english or business, Darkness. When I bought a ridiculous leather jacked in Greenwich Village....well, that was probably The Outsiders.

The summer of 1994 was when music truly hit me to the core. Having returned from Boston for the summer, my first order of business was to get to Ramsey Books & Records and order the three Uncle Tupelo records I'd yet to find. I called just about every day to check on the order status. It took about two weeks. When they arrived, I punched the 626 down Crescent (just trying to sound a little Darkness) and spent the next few days, and ultimately, years, listening to Tweedy and Farrar sing about the grindstone, the factory belt, being punch drunk and atomic power. Just like Darkness a few months prior, I was finding meaning.

The Springsteen fanatics have been clamoring for a Darkness re-issue for decades. Similar to many of his early recordings, the mix is just a bit low, or maybe a bit muddy (I won't even get into Nebraska) and it was just too damn important of a record not to have a clean release. In 2005, we got Born To Run, but we wanted Darkness. After the band wrapped touring last year we heard rumblings again. But we'd heard them before. And then came a release date. Our expectations could not have been grander. Such sights are rarely met, much less outdone.

I've had this set for less than a week and I'm already ready to declare it the best piece of released material the recording industry has delivered, perhaps, ever. This is not to say that Darkness is the greatest record (Highway 61 Revisited) but this careful and thorough rendering is astonishing. In addition to the gorgeous packaging, which includes most of Bruce's handwritten notes from the sessions, as well as stark black and white photos of drive-ins and plains, we're handed an explosive remastering, 21 unreleased tracks (and these aren't throwaways; many are as good as anything on Darkness), a "Making of" DVD, a full-band top-to-bottom performance of the record from 2009, 12 additional live cuts from the 70s, some additional footage gunned in for good measure, and to close, an entire, 176 minute show from 1978. I am not kidding when I say that this thing should've been listed for $500. I even love the version of "Fire" and I previously couldn't stand that song.

This collection is the pinnacle of rock n' roll. Furious and empathetic songwriting, a band at the top of its game and a frontman erupting from perhaps the most difficult period of his career. It comes pouring out through the songs, the pages and the performances. Add it all up and, well, perfection.