Bruce Springsteen The Wild, The Innocent & The E Street Shuffle Columbia Records (1973)
Before he was a cool rockin’ daddy in the U.S.A., Bruce Springsteen was something of a street-savvy epic poet—T.S. Eliot in a ratty pair of jeans. Nowhere is that sprawling, jazz and progressive rock inflected early aesthetic more evident than on his nearly flawless second album, ’73’s The Wild, The Innocent & The E Street Shuffle. Produced by Mike Appel and Jim Cretecos, the album features seven expansive, evocative, sometimes borderline surreal portraits of back alley thieves, hustlers, tramps, dealers and free-wheelers—four of which stretch boldly past the seven minute mark. Fans of his fist-in-the-air later work might find themselves wondering who Sandy, Power Thirteen, Kitty, Little Angel, Missy Bimbo, Rosalita, Spanish Johnny or Diamond Jackie are supposed to be, but that’s part of the album’s overly-theatrical charm—Springsteen is weaving an expansive narrative tapestry that’s matched at every turn by the elastic, free-form experimentation of the E Street Band. Born To Run more or less abandoned that elaborately complex sound (though “Jungeland” is an obvious creative descendent), but for hardcore Springsteen disciples, The E Street Shuffle is the culmination of The Boss’ pre-stardom artistry and simply one of the best rock n’ roll records ever recorded.

The (original) E Street Band: Clarence Clemons, Springsteen, David Sancious, Vini “Mad Dog” Lopez, Danny Federici and Garry Tallent
Using Spotify? Listen to The Wild, The Innocent & The E Street Shuffle right here.
Side A
“The E Street Shuffle”
Everybody form a line! New Orleans jazz intro gives way to a surprisingly funky guitar/clavinet groove—you won’t hear anything like this on Springsteen’s later work. Whether you’re a teenage tramp in skintight pants or not, the song’s loose and limber mojo can’t be denied. Bruce, please bring this one back in concert!
“4th Of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)”
The album’s first bona fide classic—a wistful, summery acoustic strummer that unfolds gorgeously into a warm, widescreen panorama of boardwalk love affairs, switchblade fights and dusty arcades (where the factory girls bang the pleasure machines, of course). Danny Federici’s accordion is an obvious highlight, though Clarence’s understated saxophone bassline sounds great through a heavy pair of headlines. Highly recommended.
“Kitty’s Back”
Kitty rolls back into town over a gritty, bluesy guitar/electric piano downtempo groove that turns quickly into a gently strutting fusion bop accentuated by Dave Sancious’ fantastic keyboard/organ work and Clarence’s saxophone stabs. Worth the price of admission just to hear that extended instrumental break around the halfway mark—each E Street Band member gets a chance to show their stuff.
“Wild Billy’s Circus Story”
Bruce depicts a bizarre cast of circus characters over a carnivalesque accordion/tuba/acoustic guitar march. The sprawling narrative is clearly Dylan inspired, but it’s a nice reprieve before the album’s mind-blowing, classic second half…
Side B
“Incident On 57th Street”
Kicks off with a gorgeous flourish of upright piano and Clapton-esque electric guitar fills. Bruce’s roundabout narrative about Spanish Johnny, Puerto Rican Jane, pimps, Buicks, .38s and various street boys and girls doesn’t make much literal sense, but it paints an enchanting picture against the song’s gently rolling arrangement. (Those backing vocals on the chorus give me the chills every time.)
“Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)”
Seriously, is there a better song in all of rock history? I’m drawing a blank. Springsteen’s Spanish Harlem meets Romeo & Juliet tale of star crossed hoodlums is a tumbling, propulsive suite that refuses to let up or be anything less than genius for a even a single moment. Clarence’s instantly hummable sax solo… that soaring sing-along chorus… the “Your papa says he knows that I don’t have any money” chant… hell, even that pre-punk rock guitar breakdown towards the end is brilliant. Can’t gush about this song enough, but I’m going to cut myself off.
“New York City Serenade”
Those piano string strums at the beginning melt my heart every time… but then there’s Sancious’s ingenious piano intro and Springsteen’s understated acoustic guitar. It’s a languid, leisurely bit of NYC street energy that reaches a cinematic peak around the halfway mark. (The piano and handclap gospel is a pleasantly unexpected surprise.) Later Springsteen albums, packed with restless urgency, wouldn’t take the time for anything this slow or introspective—it’s an effortlessly cool conclusion to one of the best albums of its (or any) era.
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