SOMEWHERE WORKING ON A DREAM MYSELF (TL) -- Long-time readers know that I have two musical fixations: Bruce Springsteen and Jeff Lynne. Like a pair of planets in asynchronous orbit, the Boss and the boss of Electric Light Orchestra have never crossed paths, happily existing in their own universes.
Until now.
Until, with the release this week of "Working on a Dream," Springsteen decided to put out an ELO album.
It's all there. A loopy, would-be horse opera with strings. Beatlesque backwards guitars. A paean to a supermarket checkout chick that would make Horace Wimp blush. A tricked up blues vocal that would have worked on "Birmingham Blues." Whistling. Nearly soaring harmonies. It even features occasionally inane lyrics.
"Working on a Dream" is Springsteen's "Out of the Blue" with producer Brendan O'Brien conducting.
Unfortunately, O'Brien is no Jeff Lynne.
As much as I like Springsteen and Lynne, I never thought I'd say this: "Working on a Dream" would be a much, much better record had it been produced by Lynne.
On nearly every song on "Working on a Dream," O'Brien's usual dense and compressed production consistently and infuriatingly stops just short of grandeur. The opener, the eight minute-long "Cowboy Pete" -- in theme and production -- comes close to ELO's over-the-top sonic wackiness with its strings and sound effects. But elsewhere, O'Brien employs the effects as if he's afraid of them.
The "la-la-las" that end the title song should have swelled and gone on for a while, but are instead cut short abruptly as if someone thought they were a little too cheesy. Just when the listener wants to join in, it ends. Same with the subdued whistled bit in the song. If you're going to whistle while you work, do it with gusto.
"Queen of the Supermarket," one of Springsteen's silliest songs, wouldn't have been out of place on a Traveling Wilburys album and might have been a blast in Lynne's hands. As it stands, it's simply silly -- and the unexpected F-bomb is woefully out of place in the trifle.
O'Brien's production gives every instrument, including Springsteen's vocals at their crooniest, equal weight -- effectively burying everything at precisely the moment they need to soar. The multi-tracked harmonies and clever pop flourishes throughout the recording strain for your attention when they should pop.
Do I like the disc? Of course, it's Springsteen. But I can't help but wonder how the disc would have sounded with a producer more sympathetic to the cause.
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