Songs in the Key of Life: Stolen Car

"Stolen Car" by Bruce Springsteen and from his album The River is a song that haunts you, in my case for years now. I'm pasting in the lyrics in their entirety because they're so strong they can be read independently of the song and still be moving. But within the context of the song, they're extremely powerful because of the despair in Springsteen's vocals. He imbues the song with what feels like years of baggage that's accumulated inside the narrator's head to the point of making him sag and practically collapse under its weight.

I met a little girl and I settled down

In a little house out on the edge of town

We got married, and swore we'd never part

Then little by little we drifted from each other's hearts

At first I thought it was just restlessness

That would fade as time went by and our love grew deep

In the end it was something more I guess

That tore us apart and made us weep

And I'm driving a stolen car

Down on Eldridge Avenue

Each night I wait to get caught

But I never do

She asked if I remembered the letters I wrote

When our love was young and bold

She said last night she read those letters

And they made her feel one hundred years old

And I'm driving a stolen car

On a pitch black night

And I'm telling myself I'm gonna be alright

But I ride by night and I travel in fear

That in this darkness I will disappear

Depressing, isn't it? Lou Reed's notoriously bleak album Berlin was once described as an effort to make the most depressing album of all time, and that Reed and producer Bob Ezrin succeeded at it. As a fan of that record, this sounds right on the money to me. "Stolen Car" is definitely in that vein; it's a downer of a song. So why would anyone be attracted to it? Because we're all attracted to songs that bring us down, at times—some more often than others—because they make us feel something, and just like with watching horror films, human beings like to feel, to experience a variety of emotions when they engage with art. We like to deny this need, or question it, but it's as old as time and there's no use fighting it. "Stolen Car" is one of Springsteen's saddest story songs, and he has a list of those a mile long. But in a number of them there's a catharsis to be had at some juncture in the songs. This isn't one of those songs. It presents an unvarnished look at things like anxiety and depression and how they compound the narrator's miserableness over how his life has turned out. There is no sign of redemption or righting the sinking ship in this song. In the last stanza, he sings "I'm telling myself I'm gonna be alright" but follows this with "But I ride by night and I travel in fear / That in this darkness I will disappear." That's bleak. And that's the end of the song! No happy ending in sight.

In portraying the decay of a relationship in the span of such a short song, Springsteen manages to pack in an incredible amount of detail. Every line of the song is heavy.

She asked if I remembered the letters I wrote

When our love was young and bold

She said last night she read those letters

And they made her feel one hundred years old

Heavy, right? Sometimes when looking back on our younger selves we can feel exponentially older now than we really are. Springsteen captures that here. Thankfully we might not relate to the dissolution of a marriage or the need to steal a car just to feel something, but each one of us can relate to feeling like we've let someone we love down, or to ignoring pain and conflict only to see it grow and spread, or to being devastated by not recognizing our former selves. The song taps into universal fears for all of us.

I haven't even talked about the music yet, which is as haunting as the lyrics. It's sparsely arranged, simple and beautiful in equal measure. Soft piano, some subtle keyboards, and very minimal drumming provide a quiet backing sound, allowing Springsteen's story to stand front and center. I found this quote on Wikipedia, from Springsteen's biographer Dave Marsh talking about how the song fades out at the end "without a nuance of reluctance. There is nothing more here—just a waste of life and a man brave or stupid enough to watch it trickle away." I can't say it any better than that.

Whenever people who don't know much of Springsteen's music's beyond his big songs talk to me about him, I recommend certain deep cuts as good introductions to his work. "Stolen Car" is usually one of those, and on at least one occasion a friend listened to it intently after we talked and he reported feeling as moved and awestruck by the song as I've been for years. There's a lot more to his music than what the masses know from Born in the USA or Born to Run or even the big hits from The River. "Stolen Car", like "Atlantic City" and "Wreck on the Highway" are memorable for being stark and powerful story songs that leave you thinking about their shared themes of uncertainty, fear, and anxiety. He has plenty of rocking songs that I suggest to people, too—like the celebratory and raucous "Crush on You" and the rollicking epic non-album cut "Thundercrack". There are several of Springsteen's songs I can claim as personal favorites. Choosing one to write about wasn't easy, which means I'll probably be compelled to write about the others someday too. "Stolen Car" stands shoulder to shoulder with any of his best work.

Comments

Blowing in the Wind: Marilyn Monroe and That Iconic White Dress

This month marks sixty-five years since one of the most iconic moments in twentieth-century popular culture: Marilyn Monroe’s angelic white dress being blown sky high by wind rushing up from a subway grate beneath her feet in the film The Seven Year Itch . Billy Wilder shot multiple takes, while Sam Shaw snapped photo after photo for what had to be the biggest publicity stunt ever staged at the time. Marilyn wore two pairs of underwear for the shot, yet, as noted in Lois Banner's critical biography Marilyn: The Passion and the Paradox (2012), "a dark blotch of pubic hair" remained visible to the 100 male photographers and over 1,500 male spectators, all of whom crowded eagerly around the set to gawk and drool. Due to strict 1950s movie censorship laws, photos had to be doctored to white out the offending blotch, but those in attendance saw it, over and over, shot after shot. Marilyn's husband at the time, the extremely old fashioned Joe DiMaggio, stormed off th

All I Want For Christmas: Phoebe Cates's Monologue in Gremlins

Joe Dante's 1980s classic Gremlins will always be a subversive Christmas favorite. From Spike exploding in the microwave to Mrs. Daigle's "stairlift to hell", the movie is packed with deliciously transgressive moments that turn the holly jolly season right on its ear. None are more memorable, though, than Phoebe Cates delivering her legendary "worst thing that ever happened to me on Christmas" monologue. It's a jaw-dropping, tour-de-force moment, a truly horrific story that's also one of the most darkly comic moments in Christmas movie history. Cates really shines during this scene. There's no denying just how seminal that scene of hers in Fast Times at Ridgemont High was for a generation of young people, but her speech in Gremlins is equally important and a wonderful showcase for her serious and comedic acting skills. Here's the speech, in its entirety. No Christmas season is complete without at least one viewing

Misspent Youth: Joanne Whalley

Looking back at the pop culture mainstays of this Gen-Xer's gloriously misspent youth. One of the most famous and oft-quoted Seinfeld scenes involves Bobka and Jerry's discovery of the existence of Cinnamon Bobka. After Elaine scoffs at the notion of such a thing, even calling it a "lesser Bobka," Jerry unleashes one of the great defenses of a freshly ground spice ever delivered: People love cinnamon. It should be on tables at restaurants along with salt and pepper. Anytime anyone says, "Oh This is so good. What's in it?" The answer invariably comes back, Cinnamon. Cinnamon. Again and again. Joanne Whalley is like Cinnamon. Yes, I just compulsively double-checked my DVD copy and it's the unrated version, thank you very much. Let me explain. You see, during the formative years of my misspent youth, if I stumbled on a movie featuring the doe-eyed, petite, beautiful English actress, invariably I'd feel like Jerry does about Cin

"That girl looks just like Pat Benatar"

Linda, that girl looks just like Pat Benatar. I know. Wait, there are three girls here at Ridgemont who have cultivated the Pat Benatar look. I was just a kid when Fast Times at Ridgemont High opened in 1982. Still though, even at the tender young age of seven, I knew who Pat Benatar was, because a.) her music was all over the radio and even then I recognized the utter awesomeness of her vocal talent in songs like "Hit Me With Your Best Shot", and b.) some of the older girls around town were obviously cribbing their looks—clothes, hair, makeup, strut—from Benatar's own style. Benatar was ubiquitous. So, when I see or hear vintage-era Benatar now, I think of Fast Times , but mostly I remember that ubiquity—of both the performer and her legion of young imitators. I know it's not true, but when I recollect those years I swear every older girl looked like either Benatar, Juice Newton, or Joan Jett. It's easy to forget, years later, that

Misspent Youth: Randi Brooks

Looking back at the pop culture mainstays of this Gen-Xer's gloriously misspent youth. ***** A note on the series and this site: This might be the final post in the "Misspent Youth" series - at least here. Maybe it'll eventually move with me. Oh, right, I buried the lede: I've moved, and would love for you to come visit me at my new site, The Starfire Lounge ! Moving forward, this site will likely cease to be updated, but will remain around for posterity and your continued reading pleasure. I have a few more things to post here over the coming days or weeks as a sort of "everything must go" send-off to the old girl. I also plan to write a final farewell post to my main online home for the last five years. Stay tuned and, as always, thanks for reading. ***** It's no surprise that the talented but now mostly forgotten Randi Brooks would make an appearance in the Misspent Youth series. She may not be a household name, but her resume

Misspent Youth: Morgan Fairchild

Looking back at the movies, music, television, and other pop culture mainstays of this Gen-Xer's gloriously misspent youth. Once I decided that Morgan Fairchild would be the subject of the next installment in this series, I did what I usually do and researched online for a bit, just to refresh my memory on details that might've previously been lost to time. Morgan Fairchild was legitimately one of the most potent sex symbols of the 1970s and '80s. Not that I needed much refresher when it came to Fairchild. Born Patsy Ann McClenny in Dallas, Texas, February 3, 1950, the American actress was everywhere during those oh-so-crucial formative years of my pop culture obsession. She loomed large in the growing ranks of proto-haughty glamour queens, a trope that was hot on prime time TV in the 1980s. The characters she was most well-known for were drop-dead gorgeous and didn't suffer fools lightly. Really, few ever did it better than Fairchild. The shirt do

It Came From the '90s: My Secret Crush on The Nanny

This series looks back at the 1990s and its influence on the generation of people who came of age during the decade. For six seasons in the 1990s, The Nanny made many of us laugh. At times, it could be downright hilarious . At others, well, not so much . This isn't a review of a '90s sitcom staple, though. No. This is simply an excuse to come clean about something I've kept buried deep inside for over two decades now: I had a secret crush on The Nanny herself, Fran Drescher. The unadulterated nineties-ness of this is practically blinding. And I love it. While The Nanny was sometimes quite funny, thanks largely to Drescher's spunky charisma and wholehearted commitment, the show was never considered hip. People my parents age seemed to love it, but my friends preferred, well, Friends . That smile! Those legs! That dress! It's all overloading my circuits. I watched Friends with my friends, but I also thoroughly enjoyed The Nanny , to

Margot Kidder and the Childhood Crush That Will Never Die

"I dream about sex, flying, and being chased by Nazis." — Margot Kidder, Rolling Stone , "The Education of Margot Kidder", 1981 ***** File that quote under, "Reasons why I love Margot Kidder." Last month, Margot hopped a one-way flight with old pal Chris Reeve off into the stars and beyond, where they could reenact their iconic moment from Superman (1978), for all eternity. I wrote a little about Margot, here and here , trying to explain why this particular actress meant so much to me as a kid growing up in the 1980s. I thought that would be enough. It wasn't.* Those posts were my fumbling attempts to sort out just how large an impact Margot had on my young life, and, to my present-day surprise, how much she still means to me now. Before news of her death, I hadn't thought of her in ages. I assumed the early childhood crush I harbored for my Lois Lane had dwindled and faded. Ha! I was a fool. My crush on Margot was very

It Came From the '90s: Kelly Bundy and the Alternative Family Ideal

This series looks back at the 1990s and its influence on the generation of people who came of age during the decade. Very few television series in the 1990s were as polarizing as Married...with Children . People either loved it or they loathed it. TV critics and good upstanding Catholic families like mine fell into the latter category. Soon after it debuted during my first year of junior high in 1987 (not quite the '90s, but on the brink), my parents made it clear that we would not be watching. I believe the words they used were "vulgar," "unfunny," and, one of their perennial favorites, "risque." Of course, this meant it immediately took on a prurient appeal for me. Parents can never win, honestly. Kelly Bundy—the talented Christina Applegate, who never gets enough credit for elevating the blonde airhead trope into an art form—only further piqued my interest. She was like the girls in school with the absurdly voluminous hair and ridiculously sh

Michelle Pfeiffer: Ant-Man and the Wasp

Revisiting and celebrating the work of Michelle Pfeiffer, the best actress of my lifetime. Spoiler alert: I'll be discussing plot points for the new film Ant-Man and the Wasp . ***** If you've spent any time at all on the internet this week, chances are you've noticed the gushing adulation and hyperbolic lovefest surrounding Michelle Pfeiffer's performance in the newly released, and extremely fun, Ant-Man and the Wasp . It's fascinating to behold this lovefest—and also to be an active participant in it! Obviously, I spent some time on Twitter praising Pfeiffer's work as Janet van Dyne, the original Wasp, after seeing the movie. And of course I'll be heaping more praise on her work here. Yet, what's so intriguing about it all is that she only appears in the film briefly! It's a glorified cameo. She has, max, fifteen minutes of screen time (an awfully generous estimate on my part), but she is the highlight of the film, no questio

Words Seem Out Of Place

Search This Blog