As a lifelong New Jersey resident, the fact that I hadn’t sworn my life to loving this album is almost criminal. Well, I finally got around to falling in love with Greetings. I heard of a Rolling Stone review of this album where the author says something to the effect of… “Greetings is Subterranean Homesick Blues played at 78RPMs. Each song has more words than this review.” That’s how I like it.

The album kicks off with “Blinded by the Light,” which makes you wonder why Manfred Man ever decided to ruin it by changing “cut loose like a deuce” into “wrapped up like a douche.” Springsteen writes a long form poem about nothing and crams it into a 5 minute song. It’s so Bob Dylan and so awesome.

Next comes “Growing Up.” This track sounds the most like Springsteen now. It’s a total American youth anthem.

“Mary Queen of Arkansas” is a more somber tune and it properly placed. Things slow down before they heat up again, but the emotion is still cranked to “11.”

“Does This Bus Stop on 82nd Street?” has all the trappings of a hipster folk tune. Springsteen had the forethought to record a song with a question for a title and no chorus. This upbeat tune ends almost abruptly with a somber piano outro and a visual lyric about a Spanish woman throwing a rose out of a Harlem window. Or is it a bull fighting event? It’s both.

“Lost in the Flood” is a headbanging piano-driven ballad (is there such a thing?) with a long, visual story about a racecar driver’s untimely demise.

“The Angel” is one of the slowest tracks on the album. It continues the theme of painting vivid metaphors about fast cars on sad highways, Springsteen’s calling card.

Dancing commences on “For You.” The Boss has the uncanny ability of making you dance and cry at the same time and he executes this perfectly on this tune.

“Spirits in the Night” is probably one of the strongest tunes on the record (along with “Blinded by the Light.” A minor key song that makes the fingers tap and the hips sway, “Spirits in the Night” actually seems to have narrative structure and plot development. This song sounds like a Kerouac novel reads.

“It’s Hard to be a Saint in the City” concludes the adventure, packed with shifty characters. The shiftiest of them all (as I picture it) is Asbury Park.

Having spent a big chunk of my childhood in the Asbury Park area (Bradley Beach to be exact) the pictures in my head all revolve around a dying beach town where circus clowns and side show freaks are being replaced by pimps and drug dealers. Meanwhile, a few teenagers with big hearts sort through love, loss and adolescence in the strange city. This album is truly inspiring.