Dream Baby Dream: The Soul of Suicide

I think the second concert I ever saw was The Cars at the Universal Amphitheater when it was still an outdoor amphitheater. Must’ve been about ‘77 or ‘78. Boston rocks, yeah …

The opening act for The Cars was a band called Suicide. Now, they’re considered influential and maybe they were then, too. Though I remember the pop fans in the crowd couldn’t wait for them to get off the stage. Now that I think about it, Ric Ocasek was no doubt trying to challenge the audience with something most had not heard before. Most weren’t ready.

When I was younger I saw Bruce Springsteen a lot, too. Haven’t seen him in years, though, not since he toured behind the two simultaneous solo albums he had — Human Touch and Lucky Town.

I was looking at the new disk Springsteen has out. It’s sold in Coffee Bean and who knows were else. I live album. Then started looking at some other stuff and came across a live version of Springsteen doing the Suicide song Dream Baby Dream.

It’s about the last song I would would have expected Springsteen to cover, or better said, the last band I’d have expected him to listen to. Suicide was all synthesizers and effects, while Springsteen to me — whether he’s playing electric or acoustic — is very organic. (Keep researching and you will find that Springsteen was citing Suicide as an influence as far back as his 1984 Nebraska record.)

Springsteen evokes in me feelings of wood and iron, of the elemental earth. Suicide — who I came to appreciate long after I saw them — is almost the opposite: a sound both electronic and almost artificial.

What Springsteen uncovers is the soul of Suicide, the beating heart inside the machine. It’s haunting and beautiful.

There’s nothing particularly new here, except maybe to me. I got an email from Mac’s mom today, told me my eulogy for him was “something else.”