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Era un martedì sera del 1982. Accesi la tv. Era un po’ tardi, quasi le 23.00. Il giorno dopo ovviamente c’era scuola, frequentavo il quarto ginnasio, ma il martedì andavo a dormire più tardi per non perdere l’appuntamento con Carlo Massarini e Mister Fantasy, il programma su RAI 1 che attendevo un’intera settimana. “Musica da vedere”, la chiamava Massarini. I video di “Rock the Casbah” dei Clash oppure “Hungry Like the Wolf” dei Duran Duran, gli ABC, Pino Daniele, “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me” dei Culture Club, “Leave in Silence” dei Depeche Mode, Kid Creole, i Dire Straits, Flavio Giurato, Mimmo Cavallo, Beppe Starnazza e i Vortici e chi più ne ha, più ne metta. Poi c’era l’immancabile videohit e la sigla finale che di solito era un filmato dal vivo degli Stones, dei Doors, di Jimi Hendrix o qualche altro mostro sacro del passato (allora ancora piuttosto recente).
Massarini di bianco vestito, entra nello studio sulle note del brano dei Traffic che presta il titolo alla trasmissione e, dopo aver dato il benvenuto nell’iperspazio, annuncia il video d’apertura. “Atlantic City” di un tale Bruce Springsteen.
Rimasi incantato davanti a quelle scene in bianco e nero che scorrevano sugli accordi semplici di una chitarra acustica, un’armonica che ti strappava l’anima, una voce accorata e poche note di mandolino.
la copertina di Nebraska è scarna ed essenziale come il contenuto dei suoi solchi di vinile. È nera con le scritte in stampatello rosso e con una foto in bianco nero di una strada, vista attraverso il parabrezza di un’auto che corre solitaria verso un orizzonte nuvoloso. Nebraska è un disco spiazzante, fuori dal tempo, che ha qualcosa di magico. Insieme a Born To Run e Darkness On the Edge of Town è uno dei tre capolavori di Springsteen. Si, certo, prima c’era stato il grande successo di The River e, di lì a poco, ci sarà Born in the USA che consacrerà definitivamente il Boss e lo benedirà con milioni di copie vendute in giro per il mondo. Entrambi album eccellenti, ma un gradino al di sotto.
Nebraska è il disco che in quel primo scorcio di anni ‘80 non ti aspettavi da chi aveva sbancato tutto, prima con Born to Run e poi con The River. Un album senza fronzoli, sincero e coraggioso, soprattutto perché rappresenta un cambio di rotta repentino rispetto al rock elettrico e da stadio verso cui era diretto Springsteen, che ora rischiava di gettare il successo alle ortiche.
Nebraska è l’album in cui Bruce mostra il suo lato più intimo e cantautoriale, in cui mette a nudo le sue paure, i suoi interrogativi senza risposta, la sua linea morale, più che in ogni altro suo album passato o futuro. E lo fa attraverso il racconto di storie di difficile quotidianità, di emarginati e di criminali, respirando un clima di fuga da vite sbagliate e da errori a cui non si può porre rimedio. Si fugge dalla terra promessa perché il sogno americano è svanito - evaporato come brina sull’asfalto delle Interstate di un’America cinica e arrogante - e si è trasformato in disillusione, ancora maggiore di quella che si respira in Darkness. Le corse in auto di Born To Run sono giunte al capolinea.
Springsteen va alle radici del folk americano, declinando gli insegnamenti di Woody Guthrie, Hank Williams, Johnny cash e Bob Dylan. La musica è scarna - anzi scheletrica - e misteriosa, registrata su cassetta con un Tascam a quattro piste, in una camera da letto dove Bruce strapazza la chitarra acustica, soffia il suo disagio in un’armonica ed intona un canto talmente tetro ed intenso da far accapponare la pelle. Dieci canzoni. Dieci gelidi fotogrammi di provincia americana. La Title track ed “Atlantic City” sono gemme grezze e oscure. “Johnny 99” - splendido inno ai perdenti – “State Trooper” e “Open All night” sono Rock’n’Roll primordiali. “Highway Patrolman” è la storia di due fratelli, Joe poliziotto e Frankie assassino. E Joe lascerà scappare Frankie in Canada infrangendo i limiti imposti dal proprio dovere. “Mansion on the hill”, “Used Cars” e “My Father’s house”, sono bozzetti di un’infanzia semplice e trasognata. Il disco si chiude con “Reason to believe”, in cui Springsteen cerca una risposta, lascia aperta una via d’uscita verso la speranza e la salvezza, lascia all’ascoltatore una ragione per credere.
A distanza di 41 anni, Nebraska rimane semplicemente il culmine della poetica Springsteeniana. E per me, sarà sempre legato a quei fotogrammi in bianco e nero che mi rimasero negli occhi un martedì sera di tanti anni fa, poco dopo le 23.00.
Elenco tracce testi samples e video
01 Nebraska (04:32)
I saw her standin' on her front lawn just twirlin' her baton
Me and her went for a ride sir and ten innocent people died
From the town of Lincoln Nebraska with a sawed off .410 on my lap
Through to the badlands of Wyoming I killed everything in my path
I can't say that I'm sorry for the things that we done
At least for a little while sir me and her we had us some fun
The jury brought in a guilty verdict and the judge he sentenced me to death
Midnight in a prison storeroom with leather straps across my chest
Sheriff when the man pulls that switch sir and snaps my poor head back
You make sure my pretty baby is sittin' right there on my lap
They declared me unfit to live said into that great void my soul'd be hurled
They wanted to know why I did what I did
Well sir I guess there's just a meanness in this world
02 Atlantic City (04:00)
Well they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night
Now they blew up his house too
Down on the boardwalk they're getting ready for a fight
Gonna see what them racket boys can do
Now there's trouble busin' in from outta state
And the D.A. can't get no relief
Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade
And the gambling commission's hangin' on by the skin of its teeth
Everything dies baby that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on fix your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Well I got a job and tried to put my money away
But I got debts that no honest man can pay
So I drew what I had from the Central Trust
And I bought us two tickets on that Coast City bus
Everything dies baby that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on fix your hair up pretty
and meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold
but with you forever I'll stay
We're going out where the sand's turning to gold
so put on your stockings 'cause the night's getting cold
and everything dies Baby that's a fact,
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Now I been looking for a job but it's hard to find
Down here it's just winners and losers
and don't get caught on the wrong side of that line
Well I'm tired of coming out on the losin' end
So honey last night I met this guy
and I'm gonna do a little favour for him
Well I guess everything dies baby that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your hair up nice fix yourself up pretty
and meet me tonight in Atlantic City
03 Mansion on the Hill (04:08)
There's a place out on the edge of town sir
Risin' above the factories and the fields
Now ever since I was a child I can remember that mansion on the hill
In the day you can see the children playing
On the road that leads to those gates of hardened steel
Steel gates that completely surround sir the mansion on the hill
At night my daddy'd take me and we'd ride through the streets of a town so silent and still
Park on a back road along the highway side
Look up at that mansion on the hill
In the summer all the lights would shine there'd be music playin' people laughin' all the time
Me and my sister we'd hide out in the tall corn fields
Sit and listen to the mansion on the hill
Tonight down here in Linden Town I watch the cars rushin' by home from the mill
There's a beautiful full moon rising above the mansion on the hill
04 Johnny 99 (03:43)
Well they closed down the auto plant in mahwah late that month
Ralph went out lookin' for a job but he couldn't find none
He came home too drunk from mixin' tanqueray and wine
He got a gun shot a night clerk now they call'm johnny 99
Down in the part of town where when you hit a red light you don't stop
Johnny's wavin' his gun around and threatenin' to blow his top
When an off-duty cop snuck up on him from behind
Out in front of the club tip top they slapped the cuffs on johnny 99
Well the city supplied a public defender but the judge was mean john brown
He came into the courtroom and stared poor johnny down
Well the evidence is clear gonna let the sentence son fit the crime
Prison for 98 and a year and we'll call it even johnny 99
(Harmonica Instrumental)
A fist fight broke out in the courtroom they had to drag johnny's girl away
His mama stood up and shouted "judge don't take my boy this way"
Well son you got a statement that you'd like to make
Before the bailiff comes to forever take you away
Now judge, judge, i had debts no honest man could pay
The bank was holdin' my mortgage and they were gonna take my house away
Now i ain't sayin' that makes me an innocent man
But it was more `n all this that put that gun in my hand
Well your honor i do believe i'd be better off dead
And if you can take a man's life for the thoughts that's in his head
Then won't you sit back in that chair and think it over judge one more time
And let `em shave off my hair and put me on that killn' line
(Harmonica Instrumental)
06 State Trooper (03:17)
New Jersey Turnpike ridin' on a wet night 'neath the refinery's glow, out where the great black rivers flow
License, registration, I ain't got none but I got a clear conscience
'Bout the things that I done
Mister state trooper, please don't stop me
Please don't stop me, please don't stop me
Maybe you got a kid, maybe you got a pretty wife the only thing that I got's been both'rin' me my whole life
Mister state trooper, please don't stop me
Please don't stop me, please don't stop me
In the wee wee hours your mind gets hazy, radio relay towers lead me to my baby
Radio's jammed up with talk show stations
It's just talk, talk, talk, talk, till you lose your patience
Mister state trooper, please don't stop me
Hey, somebody out there, listen to my last prayer
Hiho silver-o, deliver me from nowhere
09 My Father's House (05:07)
Last night I dreamed that I was a child out where the pines grow wild and tall
I was trying to make it home through the forest before the darkness falls
I heard the wind rustling through the trees and ghostly voices rose from the fields
I ran with my heart pounding down that broken path
With the devil snappin' at my heels
I broke through the trees, and there in the night
My father's house stood shining hard and bright the branches and brambles tore my clothes and scratched my arms
But I ran till I fell, shaking in his arms
I awoke and I imagined the hard things that pulled us apart
Will never again, sir, tear us from each other's hearts
I got dressed, and to that house I did ride from out on the road, I could see its windows shining in light
I walked up the steps and stood on the porch a woman I didn't recognize came and spoke to me through a chained door
I told her my story, and who I'd come for
She said "I'm sorry, son, but no one by that name lives here anymore"
My father's house shines hard and bright it stands like a beacon calling me in the night
Calling and calling, so cold and alone
Shining 'cross this dark highway where our sins lie unatoned
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Altre recensioni
Di antimo_d
"My father’s house stands like a beacon calling me in the night, calling and calling, so cold and alone."
"I ran with my heart pounding down that broken path with the devil snappin’ at my heels."
