As someone who clung to my LPs for decades, I have lost touch with several records that I haven’t converted to .WAV files or purchased a CD replacement. One of these albums was Bruce Springsteen’s Darkness on the Edge of Town. In fact my first version of this recording was on 8-track. I got it through Columbia House, which used to send you a recording every month, the latest issue they were pushing. Growing up in a panhandle town in Oklahoma, I didn’t hear a wide spectrum of music that was available even in nearby Amarillo or Oklahoma City. This was 1978, and I was just starting to drive. My best friend was Mike, a kid with a ‘72 Chevy Monte Carlo and the driving skills of a moonshiner. We would roll through the streets of the town or down the dirt roads surrounding it, listening to this album over and over. Mike’s taste in music was more toward the soundtrack of Grease or disco, but he humored me or else really liked the lyrics about driving, racing, and darkness. Even with our close friendship, Springsteen’s album felt like my own secret music. I just shared it with Mike. From the cover, which at first I thought, man, this guy looks like hell, to the growling moan and melancholy of his voice, Springsteen sang to me. I had spent the summer in Europe, and while in England experienced the sound of the Sex Pistols. Their brashness and irreverence, as well as Steve Jones’ guitar worked on my mind, and when I came back to the states, I fully expected to find their album in the stores and their music on the radio. Wrong. I couldn’t find the record in my local record store, and since I didn’t get to Amarillo or Oklahoma City very often, I lost touch with them. But I found Bruce. See the rest at: http://jksmusicreviews.blogspot.com/
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