Born to Run: Biography

No figure looms as large in Springsteen’s life as his father, Doug. Beset with a mental health condition that results in hallucinations and paranoia, which alcoholism exacerbates, Doug is emotionally distant, often sitting alone at the kitchen table, smoking and mumbling to himself, dwelling on a life that might have been. Springsteen spends much of his life in conflict with his father, trying to get close, only for his father to pull away. Doug takes his wife and daughter to California, leaving Bruce and his older sister behind. Much of their conflict typifies the generational clashes common between fathers and sons. Springsteen’s teenage defiance, long hair, and devotion to a new and threatening cultural force—rock music—counters everything his father knows: conformity, job, and family. Ironically, however, Doug seems conflicted about these cultural values too. He holds down jobs to support his family because that’s what’s required of him, but his gaze is perpetually on the horizon. He’s either literally absent (usually in a bar) or spiritually absent, letting his inner demons drag his mind away from his family and into dark thoughts.

Growing up without a stable father figure causes Springsteen to seek that emotional anchor elsewhere (Tex Vinyard, Tinker West, Tom Potter), but these figures are temporary, and his father’s shadow always lingers. Ultimately, he feels compelled to confront that shadow, and when he does, he finds a man not unlike himself: flawed and struggling to deal with a life that hasn’t lived up to its promises. That heartbreak, which Springsteen sees not only in his father but in countless figures sitting at kitchen tables across the country, provides some of the richest material for his music. When Doug dies, after the two reconnect and he eventually finds some peace of mind, Springsteen feels he has recovered at least a little of the time lost to distance and conflict.

Springsteen’s mother, Adele, the family’s Italian side, is a tireless optimist who finds joy in life (unlike her husband) and holds the family together when Doug abdicates that responsibility. She provides the emotional grounding her children need, although she cedes too much authority to her mother early on, when Springsteen is a boy. When she realizes her mother is spoiling him and he has virtually no boundaries, she moves him to another house and tries to regain control. For Springsteen, however, who is used to late hours and running free, boundaries are a straitjacket, and he rebels.

Springsteen faults his mother for her unquestioning devotion to his father. Her marriage vows are sacrosanct, and she stays with Doug regardless of whether it’s in her family’s best interests. She follows him to California even when it means abandoning two of her three children. The independence and battle scars of a difficult youth contribute to Springsteen’s success and artistry, but that trauma has lifelong effects. In the end, he sees his mother as someone who is forced to make difficult choices and can’t betray her vows or the man she loves.

Initially employed as a backup singer, Scialfa gradually becomes closer to Springsteen, and a romantic relationship develops. While that relationship ends his first marriage to actress Julianne Phillips, he credits Scialfa with literally saving his life. One of the memoir’s consistent themes is Springsteen’s fear of settling down and committing to a single relationship, which sends him barreling through a host of girlfriends, some of whom he loves deeply but can’t pledge himself to. Despite his confidence onstage, he feels damaged and flawed, unwilling to let anyone close enough to see those flaws. His relationship with Scialfa helps him mature. It’s not easy, but he gradually lets those flaws show and realizes not only that vulnerability isn’t as terrifying as he thought, but also that it’s necessary. This willingness to open up results partly from age but partly from Scialfa’s strength of spirit, her refusal to let his demons drive her away.

Scialfa isn’t just a backup singer but an accomplished songwriter too, having studied jazz at the University of Miami, and Springsteen honors her talent as well as her emotional support. When they attend a birthday celebration for Frank Sinatra, she serenades him, delighting such musical notables as Eydie Gorme, Steve Lawrence, and Bob Dylan. Her passion for horses persuades Springsteen to buy a large swath of land that becomes their horse farm, and Springsteen even learns to ride. The most valuable thing Scialfa provides, however, is the emotional space to let Springsteen confront his fears and see that love and family aren’t antithetical to a rock star’s life—but are immeasurably valuable.

When Springsteen decides to add horns to his blues/rock sound, fortune presents The Big Man, Clarence Clemons. Their personal and professional relationship endures for decades, and of all the musicians he plays with, Springsteen finds the most special kinship with his new sax player. Clemons’s “fat” sound is exactly what Springsteen is looking for—and his stage presence and joy of performing perfectly complement Springsteen’s musical persona. He understands that music isn’t only played but shared, a unifying language that crosses cultural and socioeconomic barriers. Springsteen’s first big album, Born to Run, honors his relationship with Clemons by featuring both men on the cover. The picture makes a clear statement of Springsteen’s philosophy—that music fosters camaraderie and the possibility of racial harmony.

While Springsteen doesn’t focus extensively on racial politics, he’s keenly aware of Clemons’s identity as a large Black man in a community and time of racial reckoning. Springsteen finds it miraculous that he, a “weird, skinny” white man, and Clemons, a southern Black man with a voracious appetite for life, become so close. It’s a meeting of souls, and Springsteen even ponders whether the two were friends in another life. When Clemons dies of a stroke, the loss is incalculable. Springsteen wants to move forward, but not any replacement will do. Musical proficiency isn’t enough; plenty of accomplished sax players can play the right notes, but few can fill his shoes. In the end, he recruits Jake, Clemons’s nephew, who, after a rocky start, adopts the E Street Band’s ethos of exuberance and musical communion that his uncle personified for decades.

The other members of the E Street Band—Danny Federici (organ), Max Weinberg (drums), Steve Van Zandt/Nils Lofgren (guitar), Roy Bittan (keyboards), and Garry Tallent (bass)—make up the cohesive unit of musicians that play together for decades. Springsteen isn’t shy about proclaiming E Street the world’s greatest band. After a long trial-and-error process, the band represents a finely tuned selection of artists who not only create the sound Springsteen wants but appreciate the idea of a band as a family with obligations to their craft and to each other. Over the years, musicians are replaced for various reasons—for example, if they don’t understand the aesthetic (“Mad Dog” Lopez, whose drumming is too frenetic) or simply move on (keyboardist David Sancious). Although Springsteen records solo and with other musicians at times, E Street is the family that always draws him home, finding comfort in familiarity—the nonverbal communication, the awareness of what each player brings to the unit as a whole, and the trust that everyone shares the same work ethic and looks out for each other.

Although Springsteen always signed contracts as a solo artist to maintain creative control over the music (which is undeniably his), the E Street Band is like a vital appendage. His hardcore fans come to shows to see not just Springsteen but also the interplay between him and his bandmates. Springsteen waxes philosophical about what makes a good band, and it has little to do with technical skill. Some bands “do all the unimportant things very well” (453), but for Springsteen, that’s just technique without heart. What makes the E Street Band so special in his eyes is their willingness to put not only their skill but their heart and soul into the music.

Springsteen’s longtime producer, occasional manager, and brother-in-arms, Landau is the intellectual half of their friendship. They share a deep and abiding respect for the cultural force of rock music, but while Springsteen’s knowledge comes from experience, Landau’s is more academic. Their relationship is built on a mutual exchange of ideas; each values the other’s unique perspective. As in so many of Springsteen’s relationships, the spark is immediate, and he understands that this person will play an important part in his life.

Landau comes to Springsteen’s attention after the release of The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle, when Landau writes a review with the paradigm-shifting sentence: “I have seen the future of rock ‘n’ roll” (202). Referencing him this way not only feeds Springsteen’s ego at a time when he needs the publicity but also signals to Springsteen that here is a critic who understands his ambitions. Landau becomes a trusted collaborator who provides valuable counsel on everything from recording strategies to mental health treatment. He helps Springsteen craft a more “streamlined” sound for Born to Run and guides him toward therapy to address feelings of sadness. Landau is one of many mentors and father figures who drift into Springsteen’s life, but the chemistry both feel during their first meeting keeps their relationship intact for decades.