SONG: Bruce Springsteen's 'Radio Nowhere' annotated
Written by Fran Lucientes
Monday, 05 November 2007
The extent to which "Radio Nowhere," the signature song of Bruce Springsteen's new album, "Magic," is a pessimistic commentary on present-day America seems not to have been widely appreciated. -- The lyrics of Radio Nowhere, as performed by Springsteen and the E Street Band in the linked Sept. 28, 2007, performance on NBC's "Today" show, are reproduced below.[1] -- A line-by-line annotation follows.[2] -- The analysis demonstrates that "The message [of the song] is clear: Life in 21st-century America is not life, but a form of Death in Life, or spiritual death. The radical pessimism of Springsteen's song has not provoked adequate comment, but this is itself symptomatic. It is notable in Springsteen's Sept. 28, 2007, performance, which can be viewed at the link above, he fails to interact with the crowd and keeps his eyes closed as he delivers his dire message." ...
I was trying to find my way home But all I heard was a drone Bouncing off a satellite Crushing the last lone American knight
5 This is Radio Nowhere Is there anybody alive out there? This is Radio Nowhere Is there anybody alive out there?
I was spinning around a dead dial 10 Just another lost number in a file Dancing down a dark hole Just searching for a world with some soul
This is Radio Nowhere Is there anybody alive out there? 15 This is Radio Nowhere Is there anybody alive out there? Is there anybody alive out there?
I just want to hear some rhythm I just want to hear some rhythm 20 I just want to hear some rhythm I just want to hear some rhythm
I want a thousand guitars Pounding drums A million different voices 25 Speaking in tongues
This is Radio Nowhere Is there anybody alive out there? This is Radio Nowhere Is there anybody alive out there? 30 Is there anybody alive out there?
I was driving through the misty rain Searching for a mystery train Dropping through the wild blue Trying to make a connection with you
35 This is Radio Nowhere Is there anybody alive out there? This is Radio Nowhere Is there anybody alive out there? Is there anybody alive out there?
40 I just want to feel some rhythm I just want to feel some I just want to feel your rhythm I just want to feel your I just want to feel your 45 I just want to feel your
2.
NOTES ON "RADIO NOWHERE" By Fran Lucientes
United for Peace of Pierce County (WA) November 5, 2007
Title. "Radio Nowhere." Here, as in "57 Channels (And Nothin' On)" (1992), Bruce Springsteen expresses a concern about the evisceration of content on American airwaves. Springsteen regards the popular song as a vehicle for truth ("We learned more from a three-minute record than we ever learned in school," "No Surrender" [1984]). See Robert W. McChesney, The Problem of the Media: U.S. Communication Politics in the Twenty-First Century (New York: Monthly Review Press, 2004), for an exploration for the systemic failures upon which this song is a commentary. McChesney, who teaches in the Department of Communication at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, regards "inadequate journalism and hyper-commercialism” as the core problem (ibid., p. 11), and has been involved in activism that culminated in 2003 in stopping FCC rules changes that would have opened the way for further concentration of ownership. Such concentration is regarded by McChesney and many others as the chief culprit responsible for what Springsteen calls the "dead dial" (l. 9). McChesney has demonstrated that only in recent decades have media been fully integrated into U.S. capitalism (ibid., pp. 21-22). At present, major media markets “are almost all classic oligopolies” (ibid., p. 178). At present, a three-tiered structure characterizes the U.S. media system. In the first tier are TimeWarner, Viacom, News Corporation, Sony, GE, Bertelsmann, Disney, Comcast, with annual revenues of $15-40 billion; in the second tier are Cox, New York Times, Gannet, Clear Channel, etc., with annual revenues of $3-15 billion; and in the third tier are thousands of others. But the system is dominated by media conglomerations whose synergies are used to create merchandising opportunities, spurring still further concentration (ibid., pp. 182-86). Thus a tension between creative talent and corporate media structures is a constitutive feature of the system (ibid., pp. 192-98). With regard to radio, McChesney calls attention to the battle for low-power FM radio (LPFM) as a hopeful effort to inject something "alive out there." (ibid., pp. 256-58) While Springsteen has no comment about this, the appearance of "satellite" in a derogatory context is implicitly supportive of the LPFM movement.
Line 1. "I was trying to find my way home." In "Radio Nowhere," finding one's way home is a metaphor for discovering the truth, whether about the world or about oneself. What McChesney calls "inadequate journalism and hyper-commercialism" in culture make both quests all the more difficult.
Line 2. "But all I heard was a drone." In the context of this song's imagery, "drone" refers to "a continuous and monotonous humming or buzzing sound," lacking in rhythm (Webster's New World Dictionary, 4th ed.). But the etymologically related meanings referring to "an idle person who lives by the work of others; parasite," "a person whose work is routine, monotonous, etc.; drudge," and "a pilotless aircraft that is directed in flight by remote control" also inform the line with additional connotations. The alive/dead dichotomy upon which the song is built connects the drone with death, and the rapid development of drone aircraft has characterized recent military history, not only in Iraq and Afghanistan but in countries not at war. Predator drones equipped with Hellfire missiles have been reported to kill targets in Yemen in November 2002, in Gaza in October 2004, and in Pakistan in May 2005. Iran has "strongly protested what it said was the United States' use of unmanned aerial drones over its territory and said two of them had crashed this summer within its borders," the Washington Post reported on Nov. 8, 2005.
Line 3. "Bouncing off a satellite." See Title. Communications satellites, or comsats, are now an integral part of 21st-century telecommunications. They are widely used for TV and radio broadcasting. In 2003 Tariq Malik observed that "Satellites bounce signals from sender to recipient at light-speed. Direct beaming of television and radio to urban and rural locations alike . . . are remaking conventional media." In "Radio Nowhere," this "satellite bouncing" is the only sort of rhythm available in airwaves now devoid of signs of human life.
Line 4. "Crushing the last lone American knight." Others have transcribed this line as "Crushing the last lone American night" or "Crushing the last long American night." One web site gives "Crushin' the last lone American night" as the "official lyrics" of the song. But the line is clearly a reference to the myth of the paladin, knight-errant, or lone knight, the embodiment of romantic individualism whose roots can be traced back to the Twelve Peers of Charlemagne (most notably, Orlando or Roland, Rinaldo or Renauld, Namo or Nami, Salomon or Solomon, Astolpho, Turpin, Florismart, Malagigi or Maugis, Ganelon or Gan, and Fierambras or Ferumbras; however, names vary widely). Knighthood is inextricably bound up with the development of chivalry, which has been regarded by a number of cultural historians as the origin of the Western myth of romantic love (see, for example, Denis de Rougement, L'Amour et l'Occident (1939, rev. ed. 1954; published in English as Love in the Western World [1956]). The search for "a connection with you" is perhaps the fundamental theme of Springtseen's oeuvre, as well as the abiding preoccupation of popular music. Hence it is love itself that is threatened in the paranoid vision of soulless corporate radio extinguishing the last knight-errant of romantic rock'n'roll. The image of "the last lone American knight" wandering alone and crushed evokes the image of the knight "[a]lone and palely loitering . . . so haggard and so woe-begone" in Keats's "La Belle Dame Sans Merci," but in this case the deadly influence is even more nefarious than an unsympathetic beloved.
Line 5. "This is Radio Nowhere." The demonstrative pronoun constitues a proclamation of spiritual death, an Ecce Mors (Latin, "Behold death"), repeated eight times. The message is clear: Life in 21st-century America is not life, but a form of Death in Life, or spiritual death. The radical pessimism of Springsteen's song has not provoked adequate comment, but this is itself symptomatic. It is notable in Springsteen's Sept. 28, 2007, performance, which can be viewed at the link above, he fails to interact with the crowd and keeps his eyes closed as he delivers his dire message, in contrast to the signature style of his typical performances. The obliviousness of the crowd, which dances and preens for the cameras, to the clear message of the song makes its members appear to be engaged in their own Dance of Death (see also line 11).
Line 6. "Is there anybody alive out there?" In "Radio Nowhere," this question is asked eleven times. Some commentators view this line, and the song itself, as principally a comment on the state of music. Maureen Berzok understands the question in this way and replies: "Yes. Save us! We've been Thrash-Metalled and Techno-Popped and Rapped too tight for too long Bring back rhythm and lyrics. And not just a bunch of reworked old stuff either." But Berzok misses the point. Music is a metaphor for a larger malady, and in the song the question is never answered.
Line 9. "I was spinning around a dead dial." See Title above. The image of spinning a dial in search of something good to listen is a synedoche for the the substitution of consumer choice for authentic life choices. Whether this baneful influence is due to capitalism, as the Marxist tradition maintains, or is due to the nature of technical reason itself, as classical sociologists argue (Emile Durkheim, Ferdinand Toennies, Max Weber, Talcott Parsons, Marion Levy, inter alia) remains a much disputed point.
Line 10. "Just another lost number in a file." Commentary on the impersonality and anonymity that characterizes "abstract" modern society fills libraries. "Technological production brings with it anonymous social relations," write Peter Berger, Brigitte Berger, and Hansfried Keller, who subscribe to the classic sociological tradition alluded to above (see line 9). "This not to deny the variety of concrete and sometimes rich personal relatinships in the work situation . . . Nevertheless, it is an intrinsic requirement of technological production that those who participate in it define each other as anonymous functionaries. If this were not done, both the mechanisticity and the reproducibility of the various components of the work process would be decisively endangered" (The Homeless Mind: Modernization and Consciousness [New York: Vintage, 1974], p. 31).
Line 11. "Dancing down a dark hole." The "dark hole" is an obvious euphemism for the grave. Thus Springsteen evokes the Dance of Death, an image which regards all human effort as motion amounting to a dance toward the grave. The Dance of Death is a staple of allegorical art and a symbol that originated in Germany in the fourteenth century. It became popular in England and France soon thereafter, thanks to the Black Death. The conclusion of Ingmar Bergman's film "The Seventh Seal" evokes the image memorably. In this case, note that the first-person narrator of the song sees himself as already "down" the "hole," i.e., already in the grave, reinforcing the extreme pessimism of the song.
Line 12. "Just searching for a world with some soul." As the "last lone American knight," the protagonist of the song has not lost all hope. Though he is being crushed, but is not crushed yet. By expressing the desire for "a world with some soul," Springsteen extends his analysis beyond national boundaries, alluding to the globally interconnected socioeconomic system in which we live (already implied in "bouncing off a satellite") and, perhaps, to the problems of globalization, which have been the object of commentary in other Springsteen ballads (e.g. "Youngstown," 1995). Commentators interpreting "soul" in this song in a musical sense are not completely off base, but are missing the song's main point.
Lines 18-21. "I just want to hear some rhythm." Rhythm, which is essentially organic repetition characteristic of life, is generated here by the repetition of the line expressing the desire for rhythm, a sort of *mise en abîme* that ironically underscores the isolation of the singing voice. There is a somber discouragement in the musical line to which this line is sung, which monotonously repeats itself in a way that suggests the failed quest by itself turning into a sort of drone. It is clear in the logic of the song that this is a doomed quest, a desire destined to go unsatisfied.
Line 22. "I want a thousand guitars." Have a thousand guitars ever played together? The hyperbolic image dramatically expresses the desperation felt.
Line 23. "Pounding drums." This line refers not only to musical instruments, but also symbolizes life itself (heartbeat, ear drum).
Line 24. "A million different voices." This image of a voice that is "different" is a antithetical counterpoint to line 10's "lost number in a file." Springsteen's embrace of the concept of diversity is well-known; he is a romantic with a romantic's commitment to individuality and authenticity.
Line 25. "Speaking in tongues." Glossolalia, or speaking in tongues, is a well-known but controversial and little-understood phenomenon usually connected with ecstatic religious and/or mystical experience. See Acts 2:1: "And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to talk in other tongues, as the Spirit gave them power of utterance" (New English Bible). Springsteen has in recent decades often incorporated religious images in his work, apparently in an effort to reach a broad audience during a period of yet another American Great Awakening. See, for example, "Leap of Faith" (1992). But for Springsteen, true salvation is inevitably bound up in union with the beloved, as the conclusion of this song suggests.
Line 31. "I was driving through the misty rain." Driving, the "American sublime" according to Camille Paglia in Sexual Personae, is an iconic American act; here, the first-person voice of the song's protagonist reconnects with the first line of the song, "trying to find my way home." The misty rain obscures visibility, an image correlative to the isolation and perdition that afflicts him. But it is also notable that "Misty Rain" is the name of an American pornographic actress and director born in 1969 who exemplifies a commodification of sex that deprives it of its life-giving power.
Line 32. "Searching for a mystery train." "Mystery Train" is a 1953 song by Junior Parker and Sam Phillips that was recorded by Elvis Presley in 1955. It featured Presley on vocals and rhythm guitar, and reached #11 on the national Billboard Country Chart. A history of early rock'n'roll by Greil Marcus (Dutton, 1976; called by *Rolling Stone* "Probably the best book ever written about rock") took the song's name for its title. Springsteen has covered "Mystery Train" on many occasions, including the 2006 Seeger Sessions Tour, where he combined its chorus with "Cadillac Ranch." It is significant in the present context that "Mystery Train" is about a funeral: "Well that long black train got my baby and gone . . . Well it took my baby, but it never will again." This undercuts an optimistic reading of the song that imagines such a "mystery train" can be found again. Springsteen's "Radio Nowhere" promises no such redemptive rediscovery.
Line 33. "Dropping through the wild blue." This line is commonly given as "Boppin' through the wild blue." But since "wild blue" is an ellipsis for "wild blue yonder," a metonym for the sky, "dropping" is clearly preferable; the repetition of "dr" in "dropping" and other words and of the related unvoiced "tr" create an alliterative pattern with nearby words (drums, driving, train, trying). The shift of image from driving to flying, however, while precipitously "dropping through" the air is laden with danger, connoting death in a way that recalls the descent into the grave in line 11.
Line 34. "Trying to make a connection with you." The notion that finding love is making a connection often appears in Springsteen's lyrics; see, for example, "Human Touch." But it is a morbid death-in-life culture that is the real subject of this song; love appears here only in its connection to life, in order to to exemplify the failure to find it. The second-person appears only in this line's pronoun and in the concluding lines 42-45 (as sung on Sept. 28, 2007), thus there is no real prospect of a "connection," as the next line reminds us: "This is Radio Nowhere."
Line 40. "I just want to feel some rhythm." The song concludes with plaintive, wistful, doomed expressions of defeat. The lines show consciousness of absence but promise no fulfillment. The rhythm that the song speaks of is not the musical rhythm of a song, which is so present, at the literal level, in Springsteen's tune. It if were, the lyrics would be triumphant, not morbid. Rather, "rhythm" in "Radio Nowhere" symbolizes life, vital awareness. The protagonist wants this, but will not obtain it.
Line 42. "I just want to feel your rhythm." Again, the second-person pronoun is a mere simulacrum of absence. The beloved has lost all individuality, and the pointless and absurd quest for "some rhythm" seems to fade away into a futile acceptance of any available substitute. Life in death will go on. As sung by Springsteen and the E Street band on Sept. 28, 2007, the lines are unfinished, adding to the impression of fading vital energies, incompletion, and lack of satisfaction. The deathly reign of Radio Nowhere continues.
