17. Working On A Dream (2009)

After his quietest decade, Springsteen roared back with one of the most productive streaks of his career, releasing six albums in 10 years. It started in 2002 with The Rising, then tumbled through 2005’s Devils & Dust, 2006’s We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions, 2007’s Magic, 2009’s Working On A Dream, and finally 2012’s Wrecking Ball. This isn’t taking into account the perpetual touring in-between these releases, or the reissue of Darkness On The Edge Of Town in late 2010, which came with The Promise, a two-disc archival project of shelved recordings from the late ’70s. Somewhere in the midst of this, one would have to imagine there would be a project that felt less thought-through, a bit weaker. That project would be Working On A Dream.

Each of Springsteen’s latter day releases of original material has felt like a pointed response to current events in some form or another. In hindsight, Working On A Dream sounds like a knee-jerk, perhaps naïve moment of getting caught up in the wave of optimism just after Obama’s election. Throughout, Springsteen deploys a lot of his stock tricks, but also explores lighter, poppier structures that he often resisted in the earlier years of his career. Things are glistening and near-unwaveringly romantic on Working On A Dream in a way that feels foreign to Springsteen’s work. This isn’t necessarily to begrudge the man a moment of lightness. At this juncture in his career, and in the midst of such a productive streak, and sandwiched between a lot of albums that addressed heavy subject matter ranging from 9/11 to the war in Iraq, Springsteen had certainly earned the right to kick back and experiment a bit. The disappointing thing is that the resulting album just sort of feels like a hodgepodge, populated by songs that feel like brighter B-sides to Magic, released just 16 months prior.

There are some strong moments here. “My Lucky Day” is pretty by-the-numbers latter day Springsteen pop, but has one of the catchier and more enduring melodies from the album. There’s “The Last Carnival,” a moving tribute to recently deceased organist Danny Federici, a member since the original lineup of the E Street Band. And tacked on the end, as a bonus track, there’s “The Wrestler,” a poignant song Springsteen wrote for the Mickey Rourke movie of the same name. Elsewhere, though, Springsteen descends into the saccharine (“This Life,” “Surprise, Surprise”) and self-parody (“Outlaw Pete,” “Queen Of The Supermarket”), two things he’s usually done well at avoiding. Not all the songs I just mentioned are bad, but a lot of the stuff on Working On A Dream is lesser Springsteen material, and in the midst of a renewed strong streak, it becomes a more or less forgettable album.