No album means less to me than Born in the U.S.A. When it was released, I actually had a chance to meet Max Weinberg in Minneapolis at a book signing before the first show of the massive tour that would follow. I remember that Max was the nicest man you could ever hope to meet. Unfortunately, the album that he played on has remained irrelevant to me ever since.
It's thirty years on and this massive cultural item means about as much to me as a Michael Jackson video or We Are the World. It was big in the Eighties but nothing to me. This was the soundtrack of corporate America. A Huey Lewis and the News record and a John Cougar Mellencamp record could be put alongside this one and I would be completely indifferent to the fire that would consume them all.
Sometimes, the culture burps up mediocrity and everyone embraces it. I'll never figure it out. If you want to know what America was like in those days, look no further:
Husker Du put out albums that were relevant. Bruce Springsteen put out music for people to listen to while they were getting excited about going somewhere in their car.
We're done here.