This Is His Sword: Bruce with one of the axes purported to kill fascists. Photo by Danny Clinch.

BY MIKE METTLER

Could there be a more apt title for an album these days than High Hopes? While there are those who continue to loudly (and, well, annoyingly) ring the death knell for the album format, Bruce Springsteen once again proves the viability of the LP concept, making every song count on his 18th studio (ahem) album.

Ostensibly a collection of disconnected songs Springsteen had stockpiled over the past decade or so, High Hopes (Columbia) actually threads together quite well, with a common theme of ascendance and transcendence squarely at the forefront. (In fact, this theme has dominated much of The Boss’s post-millennial work.)

The title track opens with a NIN-like loop before Springsteen’s main Hopes foil, the ever-adventurous and innovative guitarist Tom Morello, comes in with his signature saddle-squall style. Acoustic guitar takes root in the left channel while Charlie Giordano’s accordion stays centered during the chorus. And Morello’s ace squealy solo dances quite nicely around the horn lines.

A gutteral gangster tale, “Harry’s Place” commences with a funky intro, with Bruce spit-seething out the lines in a slow build like a modern-day “Smuggler’s Blues.” Masterful Morello does his thing in the right channel after a horn break, and continues to wail on during the fade. And did I really hear two “F” words blow by in the lyrics? One helluva heavy track.

A longtime livewire live staple, “American Skin (41 Shots),” opens in a foreboding manner, with Bruce’s repetition of the phrase “41 Shots” embedded in a vacuum in the right channel before his stark lead vocal moves front and center; “It ain’t no secret” indeed. A brief vocal echo at 5:30 recalls vintage Bruce production values, and Morello takes a nod from longtime E Street guitar wiz Nils Lofgren for his solo choices.

Bruce covers The Saints’ punk classic “Just Like Fire Would,” giving it a “Small Town”-like intro, with Giordano’s organ fills, Roy Bittan’s piano vamps in the right channel, and a traditional Max Weinberg backbeat.

“Down in the Hole” begins with industrial clanging and slamming, with effects on Bruce’s initially buried vocals. Weinberg’s stickwork glides from a deliberately slower-paced “I’m on Fire” feel until the band kicks in, and Bruce’s lead vocals have him literally crying out from the hole. Oh yeah, the track also features background vocals from his offspring. (Must be something in that Springsteen-Scialfa DNA.)

“Heaven’s Wall” takes a cue from Wrecking Ball‘s uplifting “Rocky Ground,” with a spiritual female-driven chorus inviting you to “raise your hand.” Morello returns to the proceedings by trampolining solo calls and answers in the left and right channels in two different breaks.

“Frankie Fell in Love” is a good-vibe, ’round-the-campfire jamola. When the band kicks in, it’s full-on E Streetery, with some nice slide riffs and mandolin lines from The Boss. If radio was still, well, radio, “Frankie” would make for a solid deep AOR/FM cut, a la “Bobby Jean.”

I absolutely adore Cillean Vallely’s Uilleann pipes all throughout “This Is Your Sword,” a track that serves as Bruce’s latest pass-it-on prayer to the young. I also dig Bruce’s “ho ho!” outburst at 2:18. Vallely’s pipes and whistles take the track home. (Hmm, is Bruce aspiring to be the American Chieftain?)

Much like the soundtrack to a vintage Western, “Hunter of Invisible Game” has a wagon-train string-section intro, with Bruce’s whispering, outfront vocal making him out to be a High Plains Driftin’ Troubadour. “Hunter” also ends with a pretty badass left-channel warbling static fadeout.

The album’s centerpiece, a reimagined 7 1/2-minute take on “The Ghost of Tom Joad,” follows the much more aggressive live version of the past decade than 1995’s original acoustic version. Doom chords lead into a fine mesh of Soozie Tyrell’s violin and Giordano’s accordion. Bruce’s world-weary vocals take the initial lead, and Morello takes over part of the way in before the pair share some great harmonies. Solos duel in each channel in the middle section before Morello goes into full Rage-tastic channel ping-pong mode. And I must make special note of Weinberg’s cymbal crashes throughout the onslaught, which hit in all the right places. (Somebody call up Graham Yost and get this version of “Joad” on Justified for one of Raylan Givens’ upcoming long-simmering all-guns-drawn confrontations.)

Turning to a mellower mood, Bruce’s take on Joe Grushecky’s heartfelt war memorial “The Wall” finds his vocals intimate and very much forward in the mix. Organ fills from the late Danny Federici are as haunting as Phantom Dan himself. Accordion accents from producer Ron Aniello and the track-ending coronet solo by Curt Hamm add classy touches to a moving track.

The final cut is Bruce’s take on Suicide’s punk firebrand “Dream Baby Dream,” just as mesmerizing as when I first heard Bruce close a solo show with it at the Tower Theatre in Upper Darby, Pennsylvania on May 15, 2005 during his Devils & Dust tour. It’s a loop-de-force with repeated vocals and Morello a-blazing. Totally hypnotizing.

The next time someone says the album is a dead format, just cue up High Hopes, an album on which every song matters. That’s what an LP is all about, folks. The proof is in the grooves.

Bonus Traction Department: Order the High Hopes Bonus Limited Edition from Amazon, and you’ll get a bonus DVD: Born in the U.S.A. Live London 2013. Here, in Dolby Digital 5.1, Bruce and the E Street Band blaze through the iconic 1984 album on all cylinders. Weinberg pummels out an intense 31-second drum-solo section on the title track in all channels, with the camera panning back and forth between his epic skins-bashing and Bruce yelling “That’s it, Max!” in rapt approval.

Live Baby Live: Bruce and Little Steven tear it up in Rome. Photo by Jo Lopez.

Bruce’s song-closing monster riffage roars in the rears before he takes off directly into “Cover Me,” his melodic Telecaster-blaster jam taking root front and center (and rightly delayed into the rears). Bruce screws on his guitar-hero face as his “Cover Me” solo sequence starts in the rear channels before rooting itself in the front stage. “Come on Steve!” he beckons to lifelong guitar partner Steven Van Zandt, who picks up the solo baton and totally smokes it, then trades licks with Bruce to the end, both men locked in primal jam sync. The full E Street Band energy is palpable in every channel.

And that’s only the beginning. Here, Born is reborn. Rediscover its power for yourself.