The name ‘Boss’ started with people that worked for me... It was not meant like Boss, capital B, it was meant like ‘Boss, where’s my dough this week?’ And it was sort of just a term among friends. I never really liked it.
Plus, you know, when I was young, there was a lot of respect for clowning in rock music – look at Little Richard. It was a part of the whole thing, and I always also believed that it released the audience.
‘Darkness on the Edge of Town’ came out of a huge body of work that had tons of very happy songs.
Anyone who’s grown up or lived on the Jersey Shore knows the place is unique.
Now young faces grow sad and old, and hearts of fire grow cold, we swore blood brothers against the wind, I’m ready to grow young again.
If you listen to the great Beatle records, the earliest ones where the lyrics are incredibly simple. Why are they still beautiful? Well, they’re beautifully sung, beautifully played, and the mathematics in them is elegant. They retain their elegance.
In the third grade, a nun stuffed me in a garbage can under her desk because she said that’s where I belonged. I also had the distinction of being the only altar boy knocked down by a priest during mass.
My only general rule was to steer away from things I played with the band over the past couple of tours. I was interested in re-shaping the Rising material for live shows, so people could hear the bare bones of that.
I’ve had an experience through music that has touched almost every part of me. It educated me in ways that I didn’t get educated in school. So we try to lay on a bit of that, through being funny, being serious, playing hard.
God have mercy on the man who doubts what he’s sure of.
I’m ready to grow young again.
No, I always felt that amongst my core fans- because there was a level of popularity that I had in the mid ’80s that was sort of a bump on the scale- they fundamentally understood the values that are at work in my work.
We’re here to re-dedicate you to The Power, The Passion, The Mystery, and The Ministry of Rock and Roll.
Is there anybody alive out there?
Did God make man in a breath of holy fire, or did he crawl on up out of the muck and mire?
I don’t like to write rhetorically or get on a soapbox. I try to make the stuff multi-layered, so that it always has a life outside its social context. I don’t believe that you can tell people anything; you can only draw them in.
Baby, in a world without pity, do you think what I’m asking too much? I just want to feel you in my arms, share a little of that human touch.
For one kiss, darling, I swear everything I would give. Cause you’re a walking, talking reason to live.
Your legs were heaven, your breasts were the alter, your body was the holy land.
Blood moon risin’ in a sky of black dust, tell me baby, who do you trust?