Forget Me Not: Nebraska, Bruce Springsteen

The latest installment of Forget Me Not could be a bit of stretch depending on your age.  It’s widely regarded as one of the best albums of the 80s . . . but for a lot of people in my generation, it might be overlooked.  Bruce Springsteen was the denim-clad guy on the cover of the record about the USA.  Right?  Is that an oil rag?  It’s a hat?  Ah.  He’s so middle-America and Jersey at the same time.  Dreamy.

You have to delve a little deeper, perhaps to days of diapers and formula, to get to Nebraska.  It’s albums like this that make me wish I was – get ready for this – about four years older.  I wish I could remember hearing this growing up.  I know I probably would have, but my age put me an album or two later.  So be it.  We’d probably find it one day.

Yep.  And find it we did.  I love that he recorded it on the side without any intention of releasing it (as it was recorded), but when they actually did record it those involved decided his stripped down, solo version was better (take that, Weinberg!).  That’s how a solo album should be made . . . on fuckin’ accident.  Regardless of the circumstances, Bruce (we’re friends, so we call him that) wrote some incredible songs, music and told more amazing stories on Nebraska.  If you haven’t had the pleasure of getting to know it, you should.  If you did, perhaps it’s time to pay it another visit.  All good things.  Here’s a couple from Bruce Springsteen’s 1982 album, Nebraska.

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