[brucemas day 7]
Jackson Cage
On the "Darlington County"/"Working On The Highway" post, I mentioned how those narrators are something of a throwback to the earlier, carefree Bruce-Stu version, as compared to some of the ones from The River and Nebraska. "Jackson Cage" is a prime example of the bleaker, more socially-conscious narrative. The early steps that lead us to "Ghost of Tom Joad" and covering "How Can A Poor Man Stands Such Times And Live" and fanboying Obama all over the place.
It's interesting to me that one of these early songs is female-focused and dealing with feminine-coded issues. "Jackson Cage" is about settling (explicitly, it's repeated, ah ha ha fear my insight), about the slow death of the soul in suburban hell (which actually is one of my lukewarm-button issues of irritation because seriously, you can be unhappy anywhere, but fine), loneliness and masks and how you turn into the thing you hate over time. So it picks up some of the same issues touched on in the male-coded/focused songs like "Adam Raised A Cain." This is one of the (relatively) few times Bruce takes his pet themes and turns them toward a female character (even though it's still filtered through a presumably-male objective view).
This is a song that illustrates what Bruce does best, blending the universal concept with just enough specific, story-forming details to ground it and add shading. You have this one woman driving home to her house, standing in the empty living room behind the blinds, thinking, you have her husband (presumably) in the form of the narrator watching her and wishing he could reach out and connect, and from that framework the generalized extensions are drawn. It's this one town, and it's the constructed shared cultural conception of weary suburban pain, it's this one family and a concept of a generation.
The title is a microcosm of all of that. Jackson Cage. It could be the actual name of the town, or a slightly clunky metaphor that, lik so many slightly-clunky Brucian metaphors, is sold by the belief and sincerity in the vocals.
It's also in that fascinating category of songs with incredibly sad, heartbreaking lyrics and the goddamn uptempo, cheery melody so the meaning twists and flips and flops depending on how much attention you're paying. John Wesley Harding does an amazing cover that plays the sad weariness straight. Both versions give you something, just like Thunder Road becomes a different experience entirely depending on what spin is put on it. I think that's a strength of Bruce songs. It's like how with most songs, you hear a cover that puts a different spin on the lyrics and it's all wow! Bruce gives you that in the original package. Strange little man.
This song also happens to have some of my very favorite Springsteenian use of language: Every day ends in wasted motion/Just crossed swords on the killing floor (I have no idea what it means, but it's one of my top five Bruce couplets), and Because there's always just one more day/And it's always gonna be that way, and Left alone standing out in the street/Until you become the hand that turns the key.
Because it's always cycles with Bruce, always the next generation doomed to repeat the same mistakes. You inherit the sins, you inherit the flames, after all. (Until you get to Long Time Comin' and there's a chance to break free, but we're not there yet, now are we?)
Driving home she grabs something to eat
Turns a corner and drives down her street
Into a row of houses she just melts away
Like the scenery in another man's play
Into a house where the blinds are closed
To keep from seeing things she don't wanna know
She pulls the blinds and looks out on the street
The cool of the night takes the edge off the heat
In the Jackson Cage
Down in Jackson Cage
You can try with all your might
But you're reminded every night
That you been judged and handed life
Down in Jackson Cage
Every day ends in wasted motion
Just crossed swords on the killing floor
To settle back is to settle without knowing
The hard edge that you're settling for
Because there's always just one more day
And it's always gonna be that way
Little girl you've been down here so long
I can tell by the way that you move you belong to
The Jackson Cage
Down in Jackson Cage
And it don't matter just what you say
Are you tough enough to play the game they play
Or will you just do your time and fade away
Down into the Jackson Cage
Baby there's nights when I dream of a better world
But I wake up so downhearted girl
I see you feeling so tired and confused
I wonder what it's worth to me or you
Just waiting to see some sun
Never knowing if that day will ever come
Left alone standing out on the street
Till you become the hand that turns the key down in
Jackson Cage
Down in Jackson Cage
Well darlin' can you understand
The way that they will turn a man
Into a stranger to waste away
Down in the Jackson Cage
On the "Darlington County"/"Working On The Highway" post, I mentioned how those narrators are something of a throwback to the earlier, carefree Bruce-Stu version, as compared to some of the ones from The River and Nebraska. "Jackson Cage" is a prime example of the bleaker, more socially-conscious narrative. The early steps that lead us to "Ghost of Tom Joad" and covering "How Can A Poor Man Stands Such Times And Live" and fanboying Obama all over the place.
It's interesting to me that one of these early songs is female-focused and dealing with feminine-coded issues. "Jackson Cage" is about settling (explicitly, it's repeated, ah ha ha fear my insight), about the slow death of the soul in suburban hell (which actually is one of my lukewarm-button issues of irritation because seriously, you can be unhappy anywhere, but fine), loneliness and masks and how you turn into the thing you hate over time. So it picks up some of the same issues touched on in the male-coded/focused songs like "Adam Raised A Cain." This is one of the (relatively) few times Bruce takes his pet themes and turns them toward a female character (even though it's still filtered through a presumably-male objective view).
This is a song that illustrates what Bruce does best, blending the universal concept with just enough specific, story-forming details to ground it and add shading. You have this one woman driving home to her house, standing in the empty living room behind the blinds, thinking, you have her husband (presumably) in the form of the narrator watching her and wishing he could reach out and connect, and from that framework the generalized extensions are drawn. It's this one town, and it's the constructed shared cultural conception of weary suburban pain, it's this one family and a concept of a generation.
The title is a microcosm of all of that. Jackson Cage. It could be the actual name of the town, or a slightly clunky metaphor that, lik so many slightly-clunky Brucian metaphors, is sold by the belief and sincerity in the vocals.
It's also in that fascinating category of songs with incredibly sad, heartbreaking lyrics and the goddamn uptempo, cheery melody so the meaning twists and flips and flops depending on how much attention you're paying. John Wesley Harding does an amazing cover that plays the sad weariness straight. Both versions give you something, just like Thunder Road becomes a different experience entirely depending on what spin is put on it. I think that's a strength of Bruce songs. It's like how with most songs, you hear a cover that puts a different spin on the lyrics and it's all wow! Bruce gives you that in the original package. Strange little man.
This song also happens to have some of my very favorite Springsteenian use of language: Every day ends in wasted motion/Just crossed swords on the killing floor (I have no idea what it means, but it's one of my top five Bruce couplets), and Because there's always just one more day/And it's always gonna be that way, and Left alone standing out in the street/Until you become the hand that turns the key.
Because it's always cycles with Bruce, always the next generation doomed to repeat the same mistakes. You inherit the sins, you inherit the flames, after all. (Until you get to Long Time Comin' and there's a chance to break free, but we're not there yet, now are we?)
Driving home she grabs something to eat
Turns a corner and drives down her street
Into a row of houses she just melts away
Like the scenery in another man's play
Into a house where the blinds are closed
To keep from seeing things she don't wanna know
She pulls the blinds and looks out on the street
The cool of the night takes the edge off the heat
In the Jackson Cage
Down in Jackson Cage
You can try with all your might
But you're reminded every night
That you been judged and handed life
Down in Jackson Cage
Every day ends in wasted motion
Just crossed swords on the killing floor
To settle back is to settle without knowing
The hard edge that you're settling for
Because there's always just one more day
And it's always gonna be that way
Little girl you've been down here so long
I can tell by the way that you move you belong to
The Jackson Cage
Down in Jackson Cage
And it don't matter just what you say
Are you tough enough to play the game they play
Or will you just do your time and fade away
Down into the Jackson Cage
Baby there's nights when I dream of a better world
But I wake up so downhearted girl
I see you feeling so tired and confused
I wonder what it's worth to me or you
Just waiting to see some sun
Never knowing if that day will ever come
Left alone standing out on the street
Till you become the hand that turns the key down in
Jackson Cage
Down in Jackson Cage
Well darlin' can you understand
The way that they will turn a man
Into a stranger to waste away
Down in the Jackson Cage