I've enjoyed the last few albums by Bruce Springsteen in a broad sense, but I've not been set alight by any since The Rising (except, I suppose, for Live In Dublin with the Sessions Band, but that's another kind of story.). I suppose that's why I wasn't in any great hurry to get my hands on Western Stars, that and the fact I'd heard the new album didn't reflect Springsteen the rocker at all. How foolish I was to delay.
Western Stars is so brilliant I'm tempted to say it surpasses everything else in his considerable canon. Of course, when I've calmed down I'll regret that hyperbole, but for the moment it stands. As stunning as encountering The Wild, The Innocent and the E Street Shuffle for the first time. So powerful it's making me think in capitals: Cinematic, Expansive. Big Melodies. Sweeping Strings. Songs of the Common Man. Memory. Loss. Yearning. Tears. Glory.
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