Londoners Magazine

Music isn’t inherently geeky. In fact, it’s actually pretty cool. But there are still some genres which are vulnerable to the geek tag. By my estimation, there are two simple questions you must ask to discover if a type of music might be on the geeky side.

First of all – is the genre outside the mainstream? If no, it can’t be geeky. If yes, continue to question two.

Secondly, why is the genre outside the mainstream? Is it because people are intimidated by it and don’t think they’re cool enough to listen to it (jazz, drum n bass), or is it because they’re embarrassed by it and consider themselves too cool to listen to it (heavy metal, country)? If it’s the latter, you may well have yourself a geeky genre.

Okay, it’s a pretty stupid system, and it doesn’t make much sense. But someone was clearly making it up as they went along, so you’ll begrudgingly forgive them. Kind of like an episode of Lost. Zing!

There’s one musician who I love wholly and unreservedly, but still feel like a bit of a geek because of it. Why? Because whenever I tell people about it, they invariably look at me like I’ve just told them I enjoy stamping on hedgehogs.

Okay! I like Bruce Springsteen! In fact, I adore Bruce Springsteen! But why does that make everyone look at me like I’m an escaped mental patient?

The thing is, there’s an image that pops into people’s heads when they think of the Boss. It’s of a beefcake Yank in skin tight denim, standing in front of a giant banner of the stars ‘n’ stripes, singing “Born in the USAAAA!!!” and gurning like he’s constipated. It’s not the image of someone you’re likely to take seriously.

But you’re so wrong. “Born In The USA”, Bruce’s most iconic moment, somehow got interpreted by the world at large as a brainless, shout-a-long homage to the awesomeness of America. After all, it doesn’t matter that the verses are a fierce protest against the Vietnam War when the chorus goes, “Born in the USAAAA!!!” right? Even President Reagan, irony of ironies, made the same mistake when he used the song for his 1984 re-election campaign, the daft prick.

Even if I can’t sway you on the greatness of that song, there are so many other Bruce Springsteen albums, each showcasing a different facet of his influences. Try Nebraska or The Ghost Of Tom Joad, his two minimalist masterpieces, on which he crafts heartfelt stories of struggling families and desperate immigrants with no more than a guitar, harmonica and some cracked vocals. Or the early stuff on Greetings From Asbury Park or The Wild, The Innocent And The E-Street Shuffle, which is a thrillingly diverse, multi-ethnic cocktail of all Bruce’s blues, soul and rock ‘n’ roll heroes.

I might never be able to persuade anyone that Springsteen is as great, or greater, than Bob Dylan. Maybe it’s because people think he’s a gun-toting, flag-waving Hillbilly. He’s not, of course. In fact, he’s a card-carrying Liberal. But he’s the kind of Liberal who’ll smash a bar stool over some fascist’s head if he has to. He’s my kind of Liberal.