Happy 15th Anniversary to Bruce Springsteen’s thirteenth studio album Devils & Dust, originally released in Europe April 25, 2005 and in the US April 26, 2005.
The cover art for Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska (1982) and The Ghost of Tom Joad (1995) both convey loneliness and isolation through bleak landscapes and distorted, ghostly imagery. Their music reflects these emotions and images as well; ominous, sparse arrangements of mainly acoustic guitar and harmonica respond to lyrics that long for freedom, peace, understanding, or to be left alone. The need to hit the highway, the hunger to move, was just as strong on “Nebraska” as it was on “Thunder Road” (not to mention the narrator of “The Ghost of Tom Joad,” as he begins the chorus, “the highway is alive tonight”), even if the outcome and the characters’ ideals were worlds apart.
At first glance, one wouldn’t be blamed for thinking Devils & Dust would follow the same road. It seems every decade or so, Springsteen sheds all the glorious bombast the E Street Band delivers for their boss and basically hits reset by pairing down to the essentials. In 2005, however, he had a different vision; similar, but more nuanced. By realizing that vision, he recorded one of his most compelling albums in a career overflowing with front-to-back classics.
While both Nebraska and The Ghost of Tom Joad are filled with characters down on their luck, out of work, sinking into a deep depression over unfulfilled dreams or falling victim to circumstances that may or may not be beyond their control, Devils & Dust finds its characters in a wider variety of situations that trigger a wider array of emotions. Yes, there are moments here that could easily have played out on those previous two albums, but most likely with different results.
While some songs for Devils & Dust were written years, even decades, before (the driving “All The Way Home” first appeared as a soul-wrenching version by longtime Springsteen and Steven Van Zandt buddy Southside Johnny on his comeback 1991 album, Better Days), you would never know just by listening, as they all sound of a piece, even if there’s really no overarching theme. Although, ironically, its cohesiveness is part of its success.
The title track follows in Springsteen’s long list of powerful character studies: two soldiers find themselves in a war they didn’t start and dealing with doubts in the midst of having to make split-second decisions. Trust and faith float around them just out of reach; what counts is the actions they take, informed by ideals they may or may not believe in anymore. It’s a harrowing piece, and its tension is released by the sound of Springsteen’s harmonica, cutting through like a voice of hope in all this dusty darkness.
“Reno” is quite possibly the most miserable song about sex ever recorded. Told from the point of view of a man being serviced by a prostitute in a hotel room, the emptiness haunts the edges of the room until it envelops the entire scene. She plays the part as well, and they both act as if this means something to them in order to make their lives just a little less painful, if only for a little while.
The anthemic, hopeful air of “Long Time Comin’” echoes “This Hard Land” from the early ‘80s (first heard on his 1995 Greatest Hits collection and later in its original form on his 1998 boxset of outtakes, Tracks). The narrator sees another chance by the campfire light as he lays his hands on his wife’s belly and feels “another one kicking inside,” as he swears, “I ain't gonna fuck it up this time.”
That hope is what fuels Devils & Dust. Instead of the dread that surrounded Nebraska, which concluded with the dreadful and hopelessly cynical “Reason To Believe,” and the bleak narrative of most of The Ghost of Tom Joad, we’re actually allowed to not only love but to celebrate. “All I’m Thinkin’ About” chugs along like a mystery train as Springsteen delivers an impressive if imperfect falsetto (which only adds to its charm). Its music builds throughout but the tension never breaks, reflecting the narrator’s impatient, but joyous, anticipation.
“The Hitter,” on the other hand, paints a dark picture of someone who’s a victim of his—or someone else’s—decisions. A boxer is near the end of his career and his life, and he has a conversation with his mother through her front door. Showing an empathy that only the best writers of such characters can exhibit, Springsteen takes you inside the mind—and soul—of a man who may have lost too much literally fighting for what he believes.
Devils & Dust was a strong follow-up to The Rising (2002), Springsteen’s powerful examination of a post-9/11 America. Where The Rising finds the perfect balance of uncertainty, fear, and hope, Devils & Dust covers similar ground with similar characters just a couple of years later, still searching for peace and trying to find something to believe in. Both albums were successful —and still resonate today—because they shut out the politics and rhetoric in favor of focusing on what really matters: the human aspect of everyday life; and in doing so, found something timeless with which we all can relate.
LISTEN: