OK.

I realize that what I’m about to say could be considered heresy by many, but I just can’t keep this thought to myself any longer:

How can anyone possibly enjoy listening to Bruce Springsteen? Especially 1970s-era Springsteen?

I’ve tried so hard for years to appreciate, if not truly like, his music. Really, I have. You know, since he’s a Jersey boy and all. I know people who wax endlessly poetic about him, that he’s an icon, blahblahblah.

But man, whenever I hear his voice, I just want to slit my wrists. To me, his singing resembles that of a drunken bricklayer’s who has commandeered the mike at Friday night karaoke in some dive bar. Tuneless, without any dynamics whatsoever, and just plain shitty.

If Hell exists, my own personal concept of it would be a place that plays an endless loop of The Boss.

Sorry, folks.

Labels: deep thoughts, music