I’ve been soldiering through Bruce Springsteen’s Darkness On The Edge Of Town box set for the last 24 hours, and I’m here to say there’s there much to love about the release–from its design to its sonics to its supplementary material.
But one thing has been bothering me: In his liner notes, Springsteen notes that The Promise–the two discs of additional songs from the Darkness sessions–“. . . Could have / should have been released after Born To Run and before the collection of songs that Darkness On The Edge Of Town became.” Frankly, I don’t know if I’d have gone there if I were Springsteen–it forces the listener to assess The Promise not as a breathtaking collection of brilliant cast-offs, but as a retrofitted second act in a Born To Run / Promise / Darkness trilogy. But there it is, right there on page two of the package–an after-the-fact statement of Bruce Intent that unavoidable colors the additional songs . . .
The problem is that, as complied by Springsteen, The Promise in no way functions as a believable act two connecting Born To Run and Darkness OnThe Edge Of Town--it’s much too representative of the multiple futures that confronted him at the time. It feels more like the genius odds-and-sods collection that’s The Beatles’ White Album. Which is a very good thing, as long as that’s the context the artist wants it to be judged against–and, clearly, this isn’t what Springsteen wants.
And so I’ve been thinking about a different cut of the 21 songs that comprise The Promise that would better position it as a long-lost second act.
Here are my basic assumptions:
First, Act Two wouldn’t have been a double set–it is, after all, a trilogy, not a tetralogy.
Second, Act Two needs to bridge the full-on Spector sound of Born To Run and the starker sonics of Darkness. Similarly, it needs to clearly transform the romantic hope of Born To Run into the hopelessness of Darkness.
Third, Act Two should reflect the vinyl LP reality of the period in which it would have been released. This means a 38-minute to, say, a 42-minute running time that’s structurally divided into first and second sides–with each of those sides beginning with a radio-friendly, potential single.
Fourth, Act Two wouldn’t have been called The Promise–it’s much too quiet when stuck between dramatic titles like Born To Run and Darkness On The Edge Of Town. (This is also why no one ever refers to Star Wars as A New Hope.)
And so, with the same hubris that allowed me to “fix” The Beatles’ Let It Be, I carved out something called One Way Street from the musical yard sale that is The Promise.
One Way Street, the shoulda / coulda second act between Born To Run and Darkness On The Edge Of Town, is a nine-song collection structured thusly:
Side One
1. “Rendezvous”
2. “Because The Night”
3. “Fire”
4. “Wrong Side Of The Street”
5. “One Way Street”
Side Two
6. “It’s A Shame”
7. “The Brokenhearted”
8. “Breakaway”
9. “The Promise”
Its total running time 38.1 minutes, which makes “act two” a minute shorter than Born To Run.
Am I saying that One Way Street completely works as the thematic and musical connective tissue between Born To Run and Darkness? Of course not. But I do maintain it’s contextually more successful than the 21 songs programmed as The Promise.
Again, I wouldn’t have ever suggested that The Promise was a shoulda / coulda “missing” album. But Springsteen did. And, well, something needs to be done in order for that statement to make sense. And, for me at least, One Way Street is it . . .
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