This is becoming a valid question, as it relates and pertains to the same statement, one usually applied to Jebus Kriste himself-ness. Ol' Bruce has released another great album, "Magic." On my damn birthday, nonetheless. This makes 4 in a row. I wonder if he and Dylan are having a running contest to see who can out-renaissance the other? Both have had a string of brilliant albums at a time in their careers where most of their similarly aged ilk have started the spiral to seed, exemplified by mundane, intermittent output and greatest-hits tours of midwestern state fairs.

Anyway, to "Magic." This is the most E-street album since...hell, probably "Born in the U.S.A." True, 2002's "The Rising" had the E-street fellas pulling backup duties, but given the unusual (and welcome) suppression of saxophonist Clarence Clemens in favor of violins and cellos, the album FELT more like a Bruce Almighty venture. With exception of Max Weinberg's drumming; you ALWAYS know when that cat's in the room, aurally speaking. But outside of that, the somber subject matter (9/11) and the more restrained, contemplative feel of "Rising" didn't give the listener the sense of a seasoned band of musicians in a room together, rocking and reacting to one another.

Not so with "Magic." The 3 opening tracks in particular, "Radio Nowhere," "You're Coming Down," and "Livin' in the Future," would all be completely at home on "U.S.A," or perhaps even something earlier. The fact of Bruce's voice having aged (well) and Brendan O'Brien's top-notch production notwithstanding.

Speaking of that...Mr. O'Brien has got this Springsteen fella figured out. He's been the man behind the board since "The Rising," and he knows how to make this man, and his longtime band, sound their best. Not surprising, I suppose, considering his prior work with Rage Against the Machine and Pearl Jam, but its still kind of amazing how well he captures the essence of these songs. He seems to have a firm grasp of where the line between epic and overblown lies, a line that Bruce himself has had a tendency to overstep more than a few times, when left to his own devices.

In any event, this album has a looser rock feel than anything since "The Rising." True, that album had a couple attempts at party-rock amidst the post-9/11 ruminations ("Mary's Place" and "Skin to Skin" come to mind), but they sounded forced, and fell flat as a result. Who knows, maybe they'd have held up better in a different context. Like this new record.

This is not to say that there isn't plenty of serious navel-gazing on "Magic." The title track, for example, which is a floating number that lands somewhere between the folk-synth atmosphere of "Ghost of Tom Joad" and the similar-but-better-produced "Devils and Dust." Or the bonus track, a dark folky tribute number which would've been right at home on 2005's "Seeger Sessions." Bruce, as he ages, can't seem to escape the inevitable contemplation of mortality and its T-less cousin. Such is the product of artistic maturation, and I say bring it on. We can't all be sweaty and 20 forever.

Yep, I saw the legend himself, in his hip-hoppity "pop" incarnation, Peeping Tom. The show was at Trocaderos, a new, fairly hip-hoppity club in it own right. I did see Patton once before, with Tomahawk, opening for Tool, but they were so far away and the sound was so bad that it doesn't really count.

Having reconciled myself to the fact that I'm never going to see Faith No More or Mr. Bungle, I went to the show not sure what to expect. I was pretty much bowled over, though. The man exudes talent, and the deceptive complexity of the music was worth every penny of the $20. Of course, he's also still a sick-minded, misanthropic genius--members of the crowd actually stormed out because of the way he was berating some audience members--but I'm here to say they had it coming.

I don't know. Its funny that he was playing to such a high maintenance dance club audience, since what he's doing right now is pretty damn subversive, in a sense. Playing his brand of "pop," which incorporates all the devices of Top 40 and then warps them rather delightfully. Add to that a stable of phenomenal musicians and you get something thats truly a treat for those who, well...get it. The whole thing borders on being a joke, a collective slap in the face to pop audiences, and of course that makes the music purist in me like it even more; that said audience members are paying $20 a slap is what makes me LOVE it.

But when you get past all that, the voice is still the voice, and to rank Patton as the single most influential-yet-underrated vocalist of the last 15 years is not a stretch in my mind. Every emo kid who's ever gone from gutteral angst scream to babe-melter croon owes that very idea to Patton.

And don't even get me started on fucking Incubus....

Anyway, it was a great show. Finally got to see one of my heroes. Not bad for a Monday in the Cities.