Today is July 6, so you know what that means – it’s International Kissing Day! I have nobody to kiss, but I created a soundtrack for the holiday nonetheless. And if you don’t like it, you know what you can do.
Bruce Springsteen’s name immediately conjures images of epic live performances and anthemic rock, but beneath the stadium lights and E Street Band’s prowess lies the bedrock of truly exceptional songwriting. While his own interpretations are iconic, a fascinating way to understand the depth and versatility of his craft is to listen to his songs as performed by other artists. This collection of interpretations isn’t just a testament to his popularity; it’s a deep dive into the resilient structure and universal appeal of his compositions. From Manfred Mann’s Earth Band giving “Blinded By The Light” a prog-rock makeover to Patti Smith taking his musical sketch for “Because the Night” and transforming it with her own powerful lyrics, these early releases demonstrated how his musical ideas could flourish in different hands.
What becomes clear through these varied renditions is the enduring power of Springsteen’s narratives. His ability to distill complex human experiences – the struggles of working life, the ache of forgotten dreams, the defiance of the underdog – resonates across genres and generations. Lucinda Williams’ sparse, melancholic “Factory” strips the song to its empathetic core, highlighting the quiet dignity in its depiction of labor. Johnny Cash’s gravelly voice lends a somber weight to the poignant tale of brotherhood and duty in “Highway Patrolman,” while Billy Bragg’s acoustic “Mansion on the Hill” underscores the song’s sharp social commentary on class division. Even a frequently misunderstood anthem like “Born in the U.S.A.” finds its original critical intent amplified in the raw, acoustic performance by Jason Isbell and Amanda Shires, revealing the layered complexities always present in the lyrics.
Beyond the lyrical prowess, this playlist also illuminates the structural and melodic robustness of Springsteen’s music. His compositions possess an inherent strength that allows them to be re-imagined without losing their essence. Take Hot Chip’s electronic reinterpretation of “Dancing In The Dark,” which transforms its mainstream rock energy into an indie-dance anthem, proving how adaptable the song’s core rhythm and melody truly are. Similarly, the minimalist beauty of Kevin Breit and Harry Manx’s “I’m On Fire” distills the song’s longing into a haunting, intimate whisper, while Crooked Fingers’ “The River” captures the stark emotional landscape of its narrative with a raw, almost trembling fragility. Even a track like Donna Summer’s “Protection,” originally given to her by Springsteen, showcases how his knack for catchy hooks and dynamic arrangements could easily translate into a different pop sensibility, illustrating a versatile craft beneath the surface.
This extensive array of interpretations also showcases the broad emotional spectrum Springsteen explores in his writing. His songs aren’t confined to a single mood; they capture the full range of human feeling, from youthful exuberance to weary resignation, from hopeful yearning to quiet despair. The Hollies’ rendition of “4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)” evokes a wistful, nostalgic glow, while Southside Johnny & The Asbury Jukes’ raucous “Hearts of Stone” pulsates with a more defiant rock and soul energy. Natalie Cole injects a playful, sassy spirit into “Pink Cadillac,” revealing the sheer fun and swagger that can inhabit his lyrics. And when Bettye LaVette takes on “Streets of Philadelphia,” she strips it down to its raw, aching vulnerability, reminding us of the profound empathy and social conscience that often underlies his work. These varied voices unlock different emotional doors, each revealing another facet of the original composition’s emotional potential.
Ultimately, a journey through these numerous cover versions offers a compelling argument for Bruce Springsteen’s enduring legacy as a songwriter. Stripped of his iconic delivery or re-clothed in entirely new musical garments, his compositions consistently stand tall. They speak to universal truths, craft unforgettable characters, and resonate with melodies that are both immediate and deeply rooted. This diverse collection of interpretations isn’t just a tribute; it’s an educational deep dive into the core strength of his writing, demonstrating that long before they became rock anthems or stadium singalongs, they were simply great songs – versatile, profound, and built to last, capable of inspiring countless artists to make them their own.
Or more accurately, with three: “Law of the Land” (Temptations), “The Laws Have Changed” (New Pornographers), and “You Can’t Rule Me” (Lucinda Williams). A trifecta of declarations, all suggesting that whether you’re enforcing the law or dodging it, someone’s about to get into trouble.
This playlist is my musical tribute to International Be Kind To Lawyers Day — a real holiday, celebrated annually on the second Tuesday in April, for reasons that are presumably legal. It’s not just about lawyers, though. This 30-track journey follows the trajectory of a full-blown legal drama: rules are established, rules are broken, crimes are committed, time is served, lawyers are called, and justice is… complicated.
We meet a few Fun Lovin’ Criminals, some Smooth Criminals, and even those who insist they’re just Criminal Minded. The lawbreakers get caught — there’s fighting, testifying, jail time, and at least one unfortunate visit to the Court of the Crimson King (which, I suspect, is not a traffic violation court).
And let’s not forget the lawyers themselves. They’re gun-toting in one song, love-struck in another, and altogether overburdened. But in honor of their service — and in defense of their billable hours — we end on a note of redemption: “Return to Innocence” by Enigma. Because if music has taught us anything, it’s that legal complications can always be resolved in just over four minutes.
So, whether you’re in the mood to break the law, beat the rap, or rap to the beat of the Fat Boys (or Snoop, Freddie Gibbs, Boogie Down Productions…), press play and pass the gavel. And if you happen to know a lawyer, consider saying something nice. After all, they know where all the paperwork is buried.
The year 1998 was a watershed moment for popular music. Emerging from the stylistic chaos and radical experimentation of the early/mid ’90s, the music of 1998 represented a culmination of daring artistic visions cohering into some of the most innovative, insightful, and flat-out infectious songs of the decade. Across genres, it was a year that shattered boundaries and solidified legends – a prolific melting pot of game-changing sounds destined to endure.
One of the standout tracks of the year was The Verve’s “Bitter Sweet Symphony,” a song that fused rock with sweeping orchestral arrangements, creating an anthemic yet melancholic sound that resonated with a wide audience. Its poignant lyrics and grandiose strings captured a sense of wistful longing and existential reflection that felt emblematic of the complicated late ’90s zeitgeist. Similarly, Radiohead’s “Karma Police” continued to explore the darker, more unsettling side of human experience with its haunting melody and cryptic lyrics, solidifying the band’s status as one of alt-rock’s most vital and cerebral forces.
The late ’90s also saw electronic music rapidly integrating into the mainstream pop landscape in visionary ways. Fatboy Slim’s “The Rockafeller Skank” was an explosively funky example of this trend, with its gritty, sample-heavy production and addictive dancefloor-ready beats. Stardust’s “Music Sounds Better With You” took a more soulful tack, combining classic house rhythms with a simple yet instantly catchy vocal hook to create an enduring dancefloor classic still beloved today. And the Norman Cook remix of Cornershop’s “Brimful of Asha” ingeniously blended Indian folk sounds with UK club vibes for a globe-spanning hit. For seekers of more atmospheric, boundary-pushing electronica, Massive Attack’s “Teardrop” provided a hypnotic, cinematic soundscape. This fertile era helped lay the groundwork for electronic music’s dominance in pop in the coming decades.
Hip-hop and R&B asserted their cultural force in 1998 as well, with few tracks as powerful as Lauryn Hill’s “Doo Wop (That Thing)” – an undeniable feminist anthem of self-respect powered by Hill’s dexterous rapping and soulful crooning. Her ability to fuse hip-hop bravado with uplifting, socially-conscious lyricism over neo-soul grooves earned her massive critical acclaim. Similarly future-leaning was Aaliyah’s “Are You That Somebody?” which saw the singer’s sultry vocals gliding over Timbaland’s percussive, synthetic production for an alluringly sleek sound that felt years ahead of its time.
While maintaining their commercial clout, pop’s biggest icons weren’t afraid to musically reinvent themselves in 1998. Madonna’s “Ray of Light” saw the Queen of Pop shedding her known persona for a more spiritually inquisitive stance matched by the song’s trance-inflected electronica textures. And Janet Jackson’s “Together Again” honored loved ones lost to AIDS with its uplifting, gospel-tinged dance-pop sound tempering heavier subject matter.
In retrospect, the diverse brilliance of 1998’s musical landscape feels almost overwhelming. From fist-pumping dancefloor anthems to raw outpourings of soul, from guitar-driven songs of profundity to mindblowing productions that rewrote pop’s boundaries – the year’s music seamlessly bridged the underground and the mainstream in a way that felt thrillingly new. It was the sound of artists across genres at their hungriest and most inspired, creating the shared musical memories that still bond generations of fans together in nostalgic reverie decades later. For many, 1998 was simply the rarest of cultural moments – when everything intersected with perfection.
In late 2002 I had credit card points that were about to expire so I ordered a bunch of CDs by artists whose music I had not heard, which included Lifted or The Story Is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground by Bright Eyes, which turned out to be a good choice. The album’s title is a reference to a quote by William S. Burroughs: “The story is in the soil, lift it up, anything can happen.”
Bright Eyes’ Conor Oberst was born on this date in 1980. Lots of tunes from Conor are included on today’s playlist.