I've heard more Springsteen since I've moved here than I think I've heard
in my entire life. The Boss definitely rules in Philly, and he's growing
on me.
Springsteen's
working class roots and New Jersey pedigree endear him to Philadelphia
listeners. And I think it must be for similar reasons that they're so
entranced with Billy Joel and Frank Sinatra.
I think
the music of a city says something about its personality, and I'm not
at all surprised that Philly is ruled by working class rockers and crooners.
It makes sense to me, based on the people I've met since I've lived here.
Tough-talkers in denim, not afraid of anything, not even of talking about
diapers in the grocery store line.
And just
listen to these lines from 1975's "Thunder Road": "Show
a little faith, there's magic in the night/You ain't a beauty, but hey
you're all right." I could definitely hear the guys in my neighborhood
talking that way.
Or how about
this, from "Born to Run":
Wendy
let me in I wanna be your friend
I want to guard your dreams
and visions
Just wrap your legs 'round these
velvet rims
And strap your hands across
my engines
I would
say the Holy Trinity of Music in Philadelphia are The Boss, The Pianoman
and The Chairman of the Board. It no longer surprises me when I hear Frank
Sinatra in a restaurant or store around here, although it was initially
a shock, coming as I did from a small town which has been playing hair
metal for the past 20 years. And yes, they still wear frosted peg-leg
jeans, too.
Besides
hair metal, my small Pennsylvania hometown also played a healthy amount
of Tom Petty. While he's not exactly a country boy, he does have a sort
of unpolished, down-to-earth quality about him. I could see him tooling
around in a pickup truck, maybe shooting at cans in his back yard after
his shift at the warehouse.
London has
been associated with punk for so long that they sell postcards with mohawked
youth on them. Of course, modern trends in London lean more towards a
resurgence of the Mod lifestyle. But that doesn't sell post cards.
I've visited
Baltimore plenty of times but could never pin down its musical personality.
It does seem, though, that Baltimore plays more gospel music than any
other city I've visited. Maybe they're trying to make up for the dark
juju left behind by Edgar Allen Poe.
When I was
in Minneapolis many years ago, that Twin City played a lot of Bob Dylan,
which makes sense when you realize he hails from Duluth, just down the
road. Walking the windy, shrill streets of Duluth, I could understand
what inspired the Dylan classic, "Blowin' in the Wind."
Driving
across country, you hit many interesting pockets of musical preference.
It is quite possible, for example, to drive through Pop Ballad territory,
where you hear nothing but Michael Bolton and Mariah Carey. It's also
possible to drive through Genesis Land, though you may wish you hadn't.
And then
there are regions where you get nothing but country music and evangelists.
I try to get through these regions as quickly as possible, while obeying
all road rules, of course.
What about
those areas where you get nothing but static? Perhaps the inhabitants
are stuck in a time warp from the turn of the century, listening to piano
music in the living room and then going to bed at 7 p.m. Of course, in
some cases, this is likely true.
In a blatant
show of serendipity, "Born to Run" is currently starting up
on the radio. So there's no better way to end this, then to let The Boss
do it:
Someday
girl I don't know when
We're gonna get to that place
Where we really want to go
And we'll walk in the sun
But till then tramps like us
Baby we were born to run
Moral:
There's no way you can beat lyrics like "strap your hands across
my engines."
Copyright
2003 by Alyce Wilson
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