Right now all I got’s this lonesome day
On September 14, 2001, three days after the 9/11 attacks, Bruce Springsteen was walking down the street in New Jersey, just across the river from Manhattan. A man driving by slowed down next to him, opened his window, stared at Springsteen and said, “Man, we really need you now.”
Springsteen had been out of the limelight for several years at that point. His last album of new music had been 1995’s “The Ghost of Tom Joad,” a critical favorite but a relative c
ommercial dud. He and the E Street Band had parted ways in the late ’80s, and The Boss and his wife had turned their attentions to raising a family.
“That guy really stopped me in my tracks,” Springsteen recalled. “The events of 9/11 had affected me profoundly, as it had so many others, but I’d been caught in a daze, wandering around those first couple of days, worried for my kids, worried for my country, not sure what to think. When he said ‘We need you now,’ it snapped me back into focus. I thought, ‘It’s time to get busy doing what I can do.'”
One of rock’s most prolific songwriters got busy, all right. Over the next few weeks, he wrote nearly 50 songs in a burst of creativity, determined to come up with music that might help in the healing process. He made a call to the boys in the E Street Band and said, “Guys, it’s time. Let’s get back together and make a record.” They eagerly agreed, and the result was “The Rising,” a triumphant rejuvenation of Springsteen’s career and a 
much-needed shot in the arm for his legions of fans, many of whom were still grieving huge personal loss.
This week, as we marked another anniversary of that dark day in the nation’s history, I revisited “The Rising,” and also did some research to look for other noteworthy songs that were written in the aftermath of 9/11. I found it challenging to immerse myself in these difficult emotions and painful memories, but ultimately, I came out the other end feeling stronger, as we often do when we face our fears.
Critics were nearly unanimous in their praise for “The Rising.” Thom Jurek of AllMusic called the album “one of the very best examples in recent history of how popular art can evoke a time period and all of its confusing and often contradictory notions, feelings and impulses.” The British magazine Uncut called the LP “a brave and beautiful album of humanity, hurt and hope from the songwriter best qualified to speak to and for his country … A towering achievement.”
In particular, the lyrics to seven tracks dealt with the emotions felt in the aftermath: the sadness for the loss of life, the gratitude for the first responders, the dark desire for revenge, the despair for the loss of innocence, the craving for closeness and community, the need to keep hope alive.
Some of these songs specifically address the events of 9/11. “Into the Fire,” for instance, pays tribute to the firemen who headed into the towers as everyone else was evacuating: “It was dark, too dark to see, you held me in the light you gave, you lay your hand on me, then walked into the darkness of your smoky grave, somewhere up the stairs into the fire, somewhere up the stairs into the fire, I need your kiss, but love and duty called 
you someplace higher, somewhere up the stairs into the fire…”
The leadoff track, “Lonesome Day,” ranks among Springsteen’s finest efforts, a musically robust rocker that also warns about how a demand for justice needs to be tempered by a sense of collective calm that doesn’t escalate matters: “Hell’s brewin’, dark sun’s on the rise, this storm’ll blow through by and by, house is on fire, viper’s in the grass, a little revenge and this too shall pass, this too shall pass, I’m gonna pray, right now all I got’s this lonesome day…”
Other album tracks demonstrate Springsteen’s deft ability at writing words that deal with emotions in a more general, universal way that could apply to other kinds of loss. “You’re Missing” delicately speaks to the void that families felt when their loved ones didn’t return home that day, but it could just as easily refer to soldiers who died on the battlefield, or victims of mass shootings: “Pictures on the nightstand, TV’s on in the den, your house is waiting for you to walk in, but you’re missing, when I shut out the lights, you’re missing, when I close my eyes, you’re missing, when I see the sun rise, you’re missing…”
The title song, “The Rising,” is a magnificent song of resolve and hope, with lyrics that apply in any situation when the chips are down and all seems lost: “I make my way through this darkness, I can’t feel nothing but this chain that binds me, lost track of how far I’ve gone, how high I’ve climbed… a dream of life comes to me like a catfish dancing on the end of my line, come on up for the rising, come on up, lay your hands in mine, come on up for the rising, come on up for the rising tonight…”
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In the wake of 9/11, several dozen songs surfaced, written and released by a wide range of artists. I’ve selected a dozen that I found sufficiently moving to share with you on my blog this week. I hope you absorb them in the spirit in which they were proffered to us.
“Let’s Roll,” Neil Young, 2001
Young chose to focus on the amazing, harrowing story of the brave souls on United Flight 93 who stormed their hijacked cockpit and prevented the plane from reaching its intended target in Washington, D.C.: “I know I said I love you, I know you know it’s true, I’ve got to put the phone down and do what we got to do, one’s standing in the aisle way, two more at the door, we’ve got to get inside there, before they kill some more, time is runnin’ out, let’s roll…”
“Tuesday Morning,” Melissa Etheridge, 2004
Etheridge also addressed those on United Flight 93, with an added edge. One of the heroes on board was a gay man who had faced injustices that prevented his ability to marry or be a school teacher. Etheridge defiantly asked us to consider the freedoms and rights that are still denied to some of our citizens: “He stood up on a Tuesday morning, in the terror, he was brave, and he made his choice and without a doubt, a hundred lives he must have saved, and the things you might take for granted, your inalienable rights, some might choose to deny him, even though he gave his life, stand up, America, wake up, America…”
“Prayer,” Disturbed, 2002
This Chicago-based heavy metal band found controversy when they filmed a riveting video for this song that appeared to be a re-creation of the Ground Zero area (view it on YouTube at your own risk). The lyrics take Evil’s point of view: “Another nightmare about to come true will manifest tomorrow, another love that I’ve taken from you, lost in time, on the edge of suffering, another taste of the evil I breed will level you completely, bring to life everything that you fear, live in the dark, and the world is threatening, let me enlighten you, this is the way I pray…”
“Hole in the World,” The Eagles, 2003
As part of the 2003 release of the 2-CD package “The Very Best of The Eagles,” Don Henley and Glenn Frey wrote this new track to weigh in with their thoughts on 9/11: “They say that anger is just love disappointed, they say that love is just a state of mind, but all this fighting over who will be anointed, oh, how can people be so blind?, there’s a hole in the world tonight, there’s a cloud of fear and sorrow, there’s a hole in the world tonight, don’t let there be a hole in the world tomorrow…”
“Sacrificed Sons,” Dream Theater, 2005
Influenced by British prog rock bands like Yes and Pink Floyd, the Boston-based Neo-progressive group Dream Theater turned a few heads with its 2005 release “Octavarium.” Of particular interest was the 10-minute opus “Sacrificed Sons,” with lyrics by vocalist James LaBrie that recalled the 9/11 attacks: “Heads all turning towards the sky, towers crumble, heroes die, who would wish this on our people and proclaim that His will be done, scriptures they heed have misled them, all praise their sacrificed sons…”
“Illume (9-11),” Fleetwood Mac, 2003
Stevie Nicks wrote this poignant piece less than two weeks after 9/11, but it didn’t see the light of day until Fleetwood Mac reconvened to record the 2003 LP “Say You Will.” Nicks reflected on how difficult it can be to overcome deep heartbreak: “What I saw on this journey, I saw history go down, I cannot pretend that the heartache falls away, it’s just like a river, ooh, it’s never ending, I cannot pretend that the heartache falls away, because it’s just like a river, it’s never ending…”
“Hey Ma,” James, 2008
The British band James offered another perspective, looking at 9/11 as a fork in the road where unfortunate choices with long-lasting global consequences were made: “Now, the towers have fallen, so much dust in the air, it affected your vision, couldn’t see yourself clear, from the fall came such choices even worse than the fall, there’s this chain of consequences, within, without, action, cause and reaction never follows to plan… Please don’t preach me forgiveness, you’re hardwired for revenge, war is just about business, within, without…”
“When New York Had Her Heart Broke,” John Hiatt, 2011
Veteran songwriter Hiatt came up with this tearjerker on his 2011 LP “Dirty Jeans and Mudslide Hymns,” on which he ruefully recalled the mood of New Yorkers when their city became the focal point of the 9/11 attacks: “And the daylight fell dark, F-16s over Central Park, when New York had her heart broke, we were dazed in the streets, from the blood and dust and heat, when New York had her heart broke…”
“Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning),” Alan Jackson, 2001
Jackson found it hard to write a song about how he felt in the wake of 9/11, but he forged ahead and came up with this moving track. After debuting it at the Country Music Awards less than eight weeks after 9/11, it was released as a single, topping the country charts for five weeks and reaching #28 on the pop charts. The lyrics present a series of thought-provoking questions: “Did you stand there in shock at the sight of that black smoke risin’ against that blue sky? Did you shout out in anger, in fear for your neighbor, or did you just sit down and cry? Did you weep for the children who lost their dear loved ones, and pray for the ones who don’t know? Did you rejoice for the people who walked from the rubble, and sob for the ones left below?…”
“Courtesy of the Red White and Blue (The Angry American),” Toby Keith, 2002
Always a political conservative, Keith came up with this inflamed diatribe that stoked the rage amongst his audience and soared to #1 on the country charts upon its release in May 2002. He has said it was written in support of the U.S. soldiers in Afghanistan, but it was interpreted to reflect his generally hawkish views: “Now this nation that I love has fallen under attack, a mighty sucker punch came flyin’ in from somewhere in the back, soon as we could see it clearly through our big black eye, man, we lit up your world like the 4th of July… Oh, justice will be served and the battle will rage, this big dog will fight when you rattle his cage, and you’ll be sorry that you messed with the U.S. of A, ’cause we’ll put a boot in your ass, it’s the American way…”
“Skylines and Turnstiles,” My Chemical Romance, 2002
Gerard Way was so saddened and outraged by the events of 9/11 that he was inspired to form the emo/post-hardcore punk group My Chemical Romance. The debut LP “I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love” includes “Skylines and Turnstiles” with its brutally graphic lyrics: “Steel corpses stretch out towards an ending sun, scorched and black, it reaches in and tears your flesh apart as ice cold hands rip into your heart, that’s if you’ve still got one that’s left inside that cave you call a chest, after seeing what we saw, can we still reclaim our innocence?…”
“Exodus Damage,” John Vanderslice, 2005
Indie rock singer/songwriter Vanderslice produced ten albums out of his San Francisco-based studio/record company. His 2005 album “Pixel Revolts” had a decidedly political bent, with several tracks about 9/11 and the Iraq War, especially “Exodus Damage” with its highly provocative lyrics: “So the second plane hit at 9:02, I saw it live on a hotel TV, talking on my cell with you, you said this would happen, and just like that, it did, wrong about the feeling, wrong about the sound, but right to say we would stand down, an hour went by without a fighter in the sky, you said there’s a reason why, so tell me now, I must confess, I’m not sick enough to guess…”
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condition known as “retinopathy of prematurity,” which caused total, irreparable blindness. The lack of sight seemed to turn to an advantage, as the boy realized his heightened sense of hearing allowed him to acutely absorb music of all kinds. He sang in the church youth choir at age four. In rapid succession, he learned piano, drums and harmonica, all by age nine. No one could have possibly predicted the dizzying heights this prodigy would attain by his mid-20s. Stevland Hardaway Judkins — later Stevland Morris when his mother remarried — became, by 1962, “Little Stevie Wonder,” a true phenomenon who evolved into Stevie Wonder, one of the two or three most important musical artists of our time.
nightly gigs in clubs around their native Pittsburgh. One night, a group of black patrons approached them during a break and said, “Hey, are you white boys going to ever play any funky music tonight?” Lead singer Rob Parissi immediately sat down and wrote a song around that thought. The group worked on it over the next week, coming up with a dance groove they liked, and found a sympathetic producer at Epic/ Cleveland International to record it. Two months later, “Play That Funky Music” was the #1 song in the nation, ultimately snagging two Grammy nominations in the year disco began its rule of the airwaves.
London for a while to see what opportunities might happen there for him. Sure enough, Peter Asher, a talent scout working for The Beatles‘ new label, Apple Records, heard Taylor’s demos and brought them to the attention of Paul McCartney and George Harrison, who both agreed they should sign him. When Taylor came into the studios to record his music, some of the songs were still incomplete and in need of tweaking. As he worked on “Carolina in My Mind,” he couldn’t help but notice McCartney, Harrison and Ringo Starr in the control booth listening in. Naturally, this unnerved him, but it gave him the lyrics he needed for the bridge: “And with a holy host of others standing ’round me, still I’m on the dark side of the moon, and it looks like it goes on like this forever, you must forgive me…”
Down on Broadway,” when Peter Gabriel was approached by film director William Friedkin, who was then riding high with his hugely successful movie “The Exorcist.” Friedkin 
was keen on making a science fiction film and was looking for “a writer who’d never been involved with Hollywood before.” As a fan of Genesis, he had read the sleeve notes on the back of the “Genesis Live” LP — a typically fantastical short story by Gabriel — and thought maybe they could collaborate. Gabriel was excited about it, but the other members of Genesis weren’t receptive to him putting the band, album and tour on hold for this side project. When Friedkin heard his offer might result in the demise of Genesis, he backed off, since his sci-fi project was still just a nebulous idea and, as a big fan of Genesis, he wanted the group to continue. We’ll never know what Friedkin and Gabriel might’ve come up with.
was determined, though, and went to visit a new recording venue called Sound City. While he was there, he heard a guitar player named Lindsay Buckingham working on material in one of the studios. Intrigued, he introduced himself, and within the hour, he asked Buckingham if he’d like to join Fleetwood Mac as their new guitarist. “That sounds great, we’d love to,” he replied, “because my girlfriend comes with me.” He was referring, of course, to Stevie Nicks, the singer-songwriter who had been his lover and professional partner for several years. Fleetwood hesitated about accepting Nicks as well but then decided, what the hell, let’s go for it. Eighteen months later, the group that had never managed much chart success in the US had the #1 album in the country.
at an early age, learning recorder and ukulele and singing in the school choir. He especially shone in a “music and movement” class that presaged his mesmerizing stage shows. His father changed his life the day he brought home a stack of 45s by American R&B artists. “I thought I’d heard God,” said the boy when he heard “Tutti Frutti.” He moved through a number of ragtag rock bands in his teen years, playing saxophone and guitar and often handling lead vocals, even winning a contract or two along the way, but nothing came of the records from that period. In 1966, Davy Jones of The Monkees became a celebrity, so David Jones knew he’d better change his name and, in honor of “the ultimate American knife” he’d always admired, he became David Bowie.
expressive, high, bluesy voice that even then drew comparisons to the great Ray Charles. At 18, he wrote two songs with Spencer Davis that became Top Ten hits in the US and the UK, “Gimme Some Lovin'” and “I’m a Man.” At 19, he formed Traffic, one of the most inventive British bands of the late ’60s. At 21, he joined forces 
with Eric Clapton in Blind Faith, producing amazing tunes like “Can’t Find My Way Home” and “Sea of Joy.” He then reformed Traffic at 22 to produce more classic albums like “John Barleycorn Must Die” and “Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys.” By the time he was only 26, he disbanded Traffic and took a well-deserved break for a few years. Then at 32, he finally kicked off a hugely successful, Grammy-winning solo career. Incredible.
their breakthrough LP, 1979’s “Damn the Torpedos,” certainly knew this, and their venues and crowds got commensurately bigger as they did so. As the group returned to the studio, MCA Records decided they would (literally) capitalize on the band’s success by slapping a $9.98 “superstar pricing” on the next release (“Hard Promises”) instead of the then-customary $8.98. Petty balked at the obvious greed, and withheld the master tapes in protest, which helped make the issue a popular cause among music fans. When he threatened to rename the album “$8.98” to drive home his point, the label reluctantly backed down.
songs apiece per album, and more time in the spotlight during concert performances. In the midst of this tense atmosphere, Stephen Stills met Coolidge, had become very attracted to her, and was eager to build a relationship with her. The twosome arrived at a party one night, and within minutes, Graham Nash turned on his British charm and spirited Coolidge away. This enraged Stills, and it proved to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. He swore he would never work with Nash again, and headed off to pursue a solo career. CSN(&Y) split up weeks later, and though they would reunite years later, the momentum they’d built was lost, and things were never quite the same between them.
In the election year of 1972, shock-rocker Alice Cooper was getting plenty of exposure with the single “Elected” and its just-in-fun lyrics about running for president. The rock journalists knew the whole thing was just a joke, but a few hard news reporters from Time Magazine and The Washington Post starting asking him his opinion on the political issues of the day. One demanded to know which candidate he intended to support in November. He laughed out loud and responded, “If you’re listening to a rock star in order to get your information on who to vote for, you’re a bigger moron than they are.”
been playing club gigs using the name The Detours and, for a brief spell, The High Numbers. Nobody was particularly enchanted with those names, but they kept on until something better came to them. One night, Townshend, who still lived at his parents’ house, was heading out the door to see another band play at a local club. His hard-of-hearing grandmother, who also lived in the Townshend household, asked him where he was going. When he mentioned the name of the band, his grandmother shot back, “You’re going to see the who??” A light bulb went off in Townshend’s head, and after a quick huddle with the rest of the group, The Detours officially became The Who.
something else, anything at all, to put on the B-side of the single. It can be instrumental, it doesn’t matter. Whatever you want.” They started doing a light, accessible groove, jamming for 20 minutes while the singer added a bunch of “na na na”s and other off-the-cuff lyrics, and they were done. The producer edited it down to the best three minutes, slapped it on the back of “It’s the Magic in You Girl,” and shipped it out. As it turned out, DJs thought the A-side was lame and ignored it, but they were taken by the catchy ditty on the B-side. Within a few weeks, “Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye” was the #1 song in the country.
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