Born To Run

By Bruce Springsteen

8/10
(8/10)

508 pages

What’s it about?
This is Bruce Springsteen’s autobiography.  The book covers his childhood, parents, career, marriages, and his relationships both in and out of the music world.What did I think?
I came of age when Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band were THE BAND!  I can’t think back on college without hearing a soundtrack of “Born to Run” or “The River”.  His music is indelibly stamped onto the pages of my life.  As my good friend Leslie would say- “how could you not want to read about Bruce?”
Here was my major revelation (although it shouldn’t have been such a revelation)- Bruce Springsteen is one serious guy!  I sometimes read a passage and thought- “Oh my, I wish he didn’t take himself and everything else so seriously”.   I am a big believer in finding some humor in life, and I did not see a lot in these pages.   I did find him to be honest, and he is obviously trying to be the best person he can be. I find both these traits really admirable.  His passages on depression shed light on a brutal disease.  I give him immense credit for opening up and sharing- and of course the man can write!

Should you read it?
All in all it was a well-written account of a rock star’s life.  Even more it is the story of a man that worked really hard to make his dreams come true.  It is worth the time and effort to read, and yet you may come away slightly disillusioned.  Springsteen may be representative of the working-man, but he sometimes comes across as a bit of a control freak.  A man who insists on total dominion over all those that are in his orbit.“People always ask me how the band played like it did night after night, almost murderously consistent, NEVER  stagnant and always full balls to the wall.  There are two answers.  One is they loved and respected their jobs, one another, their leader and the audience.  The other is …because I MADE them!”Not as egalitarian as I would of supposed, but interesting reading.

Quote-
“All I do know is as we age the weight of our unsorted baggage becomes heavier…much heavier.  With each passing year, the price of our refusal to do that sorting rises higher and higher.  Maybe I’d cut myself loose one too many times, depended on my unfailing magic act once too often, drifted that little bit too far from the smoke and mirrors holding me together.  Or…   just got old……old enough to know better.  Whatever the reason, I’d found myself, once again, stranded in the middle of….”nowhere,” but this time the euphoria and delusions that kept me oiled and running had ground to a halt.”

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