Bruce Springsteen’s “Farewell Party”

Bruce Springsteen. 

The emotions… the instinctual, primal feelings that his music can stir up in me never ceases to amaze. It’s not every one of his songs, no. It’s rare, actually. It’s songs like “Brilliant Disguise,” “Dry Lightning’ and “My Beautiful Reward.” It’s the instant I first heard “This Hard Land” on the radio in 1995 (yes, I love the Greatest Hits version!). It’s those moments in The River – “Drive All Night,” “Point Blank,” “The Price You Pay,” the title track.

You know it when you hear it. 

So with the release of Bruce’s epic Tracks II set a couple of months ago, I suspected I’d probably have one of those moments. I mean, 7 unheard albums with 83 songs? I figured the odds were good. 

Well, that moment came with the last song on The Streets of Philadelphia Sessions album. It was “Farewell Party.”

It tells the story of a lost love. The object of his affection isn’t typical in any way. With the very first line, we’re introduced to one wild and unique woman: “She rode a ’48 Panhead hardtail / First time I seen her she was skiddin’ over a bed of nails.” No idea what the setting for this would be, seeing your future love laying down a classic Harley on a bed of nails? But what an image! 

From there, typical of Bruce, he keeps the story ambiguous enough for listeners to dream up their own conclusions and backstory:

“We held a farewell party at the station there in the hour of her transfiguration.“ Did she pass away? 

“Don’t we all dream of a life somewhere /  Untouched by our failures?” Did she skip town to get a fresh start somewhere else?

“You change your name and your face / But here your fears find you out.” Did she transition genders? Join the witness protection program? It’s all up in the air for interpretation. 

I love the poetic imagery of the lyrics. And what’s equally great is the way Bruce delivers the song. The rhythm and cadence of his singing is almost conversational. It feels like you’re bellied up to the bar, hearing it from the stranger next to you over a couple of beers. 

The delivery is heart-wrenching, tender, bittersweet. It ebbs and it flows, grows louder and softer. His verse meanders through the rhythm and tempo of the song in a way that’s poetic in and of itself. Now, I’m a sing-along type of guy, and I must’ve listened to this song dozens of times in the last few weeks – yet I still can’t nail the sing-along right in step with Bruce. It’s so brilliantly delivered. 

Add to the mix the hauntingly beautiful keyboards that lay the foundation of the entire song, along with Shane Fontayne’s fuzzed-out guitar parts that hit just right, and you have one powerful piece of music.  

The song is a journey through our fragile selves, our hopes and dreams, the fears that “come like old ghosts in the night.” That aching for companionship, and ultimately the acceptance of loss. 

By the last verse, it’s clear she’s gone, as he rides her Harley out into the desert night:

“Tonight I got your ’48 up, two kicks and she starts
I’m rushin’ out ‘neath a canopy of empty stars
All I’m thinkin’ of is you, babe”

Chills.

I hope you can spend some time with this song. Pull up these lyrics and take it all in. Jump on the ’48 Panhead and go for a ride.