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Salient. Victoria University Student Newspaper. Volume 36, Number 24. 26th September 1973

Greetings from Ashbury Park N.Y.:

Greetings from Ashbury Park N.Y.:

When I first heard this I said good fucking relief (honest I did).

Then I thought
1)No — the dictum today is keeping the whole thing in perspective.
2)I asked the pertinent question: is Bruce Springsteen the new Dylan or a counterfeit folkie with a flair for faking it?

And then I thought: Jesus, I don't even like Dylan.

Seriously though, folks, the world doesn't need another Dylan — and with that. Greetings from Ashbury Park could well be the year's best. Per se. From anybody.

I know nothing about Springsteen, don't want to. (With a small tear in one eye I remember a Melody Maker interview with a callously bitchie Van Morrison, how it shattered me and destroyed five of my most-loved Ip's). Good news is that Springsteen is Van Morrison away from suckle-sweet Tupelo Honey, Robbie Robert son cut free from Cahoots and a man who writes like I always wanted to and sings like the guy you always wanted to hear. And he's got shit-all to do with Dylan.

No bull — if you've believed nothing I've written on 12" plastiks in the last six months, believe me now.

Greetings from Ashbury's obvious highlight is "The Angel", a New York transvestite s tale — done for the day, he undresses, carresses his penis and looks sad-eyed at the crumpled mess of queen gear by his bed. Painful delights like the other polished finesse and stacks of good, good words on the record.

This is brilliant and if you're interested I'm giving this whole cruddy record review business up soon cos I always like the wrong damn things.

I mean, just who the fuck is Bruce Spring steen? You know, so what?