Happy Hour

Bruce, Bourbon, and Books: Jungleland

Bruce, Bourbon, and Books: Jungleland

Like any good preacher, Bruce saves one of his best lines for the final stanza: “Outside the street's on fire/In a real death waltz/Between what's flesh and what's fantasy /And the poets down here/Don't write nothing at all.”

Bruce, Bourbon, and Books: All The Light Tends To Go To Atlantic City

This semi-regular series alternates between Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen songs that perfectly complement a good bourbon and a quality book. You can make your own suggestions and recommendations in the comments section or by tweeting @WritersBone.

Bruce

Daniel Ford: There are a handful of songs that immediately send me back to stumbling toward my potential in a small New York City apartment, not knowing when my limited supply of money would run out, leaving me with “debts no honest man can pay.” Bruce Springsteen’s “Atlantic City” might be at the top of that list. Despair permeates every lyric, but hope—even if it’s a fool’s hope—muscles itself in only to be smacked down again by unyielding obstacles. I’ve heard this song performed live multiple times, and the crowd reaction is immediate, guttural. We’re in the car with Bruce headed toward the hell that surely awaits us in Atlantic City, screaming as if we’ve finally discovered the only place we’ll feel at home. It’s a song about last chances, big dreams, the darkness that eclipses the small amount of light we’re allotted, and getting the fuck out of our own ways. “Put your makeup on/fix your hair up pretty” because damnation awaits and you’ve got to look your fucking best.

One of my favorite live versions of “Atlantic City” is the track on “Live in Dublin,” which features Bruce with The Sessions Band. The rendition, which breathes new life into early American music, hardwires even more desperation and bite into the tune. Blowing up chicken men in Philly has never been more fun.

Dave Pezza: Thank God, I thought we’d never make it to “Atlantic City.” This song has been my favorite Bruce song for as long as I can remember. It struck a chord with me in high school as a dowdy and socially frustrated teenager. The thought of having the balls to pack up your life, no matter how little is left of it, and risking it all on the open road felt so freeing, so hopeful in a sad way to me then, never mind the romantics of trusting that she'll meet you once your there, that you two will share it all or nothing at all with you. It made a deep impression on my psyche and always will. As I got older this song has always reminded me of the how much of a real bitch life is. Bruce’s somber, all but defeated tone makes you feel honest, desperate hope, a hope that I have since realized is such a daily necessity, just to get you up some morning, just to get you through some days. So much hangs on the balance in this song; he has no idea if he’ll make it to Atlantic City, that what he is running from won’t catch him before he gets there. He has no idea if she’ll even meet him there. And even then, once he gets there, he’s still got to risk everything.

Bruce’s mournful, gorgeous harmonica and his chilling guitar fade out reminds you that there always a hope that you can pack it up and make one last go of it. You might not make it, she might not follow, and you’ll still be screwed even if you make it there, but you sure as hell still got to try. Because maybe, just maybe, everything that dies someday comes back.

Bourbon

Dave: This week’s bourbon fits really well with our song and book, and we didn’t even plan it that way. Colonel E.H. Taylor, Jr.’s Small Batch bourbon whiskey is not for the faint of heart. My aunt bought me a bottle of Colonel Taylor’s for my birthday this year, and I was saving it until we needed to try out a new bourbon. I honestly could not form an opinion on this bourbon for the first few sips. Colonel Taylor’s is harsh like strong whiskey should be but finishes like some of its more refined brothers. This is a bourbon for when you want to drink. Period. It’s not for the weak of palate nor the faint of stomach. I can picture Bruce gulping down a few fingers before heading to the tables in Atlantic City to toss it all on red, or Jacob McNeely, the main character in David Joy’s Where All the Light Tends to Go, drinking it straight from the bottle as he loads his shotgun at his dining room table. I wanted to dislike this bourbon on first taste, but I couldn’t. I just hadn’t mustered up the stones for it. Next time I’ll be ready.

Book

Daniel: As Dave correctly proves above, David Joy's Where All the Light Tends to Go pairs perfectly with "Atlantic City" because both involve characters' burning desire to flee a bad situation (and isn't bourbon usually the elixir to either get you moving, more likely, tie you to the dark place you're in?). You’d swear some of the perfectly crafted lines in this work swam out of a high-end bottle of bourbon, picked up the first shotgun they saw, and blasted their way through Appalachia. A few examples:

“Outlawing was just as much a matter of blood as hair color and height.”

“A girl like that couldn’t stay. Not forever, and certainly not for long.”

“I’d been around crank my whole life, so it had never been a drug, only money.”

“There are some souls that even the devil wants no part of.”

If that’s not enough for you, Joy’s debut novel also features vinyl records, redneck meth dealers, teenage angst, and bulls (aka police officers). Where All the Light Tends to Go closes with an final scene as shattering and powerful as: “Everything dies baby that's a fact/But maybe everything that dies someday comes back.” Based on the author’s answers during our recent interview, I have a feeling David Joy is going to be supplying readers with bourbon-infused material for years to come. 

For more Bruce/Bob, Bourbon, and Books, check out our full archive.

Bob, Bourbon, and Books: Tinker Tailor Solider Basil Hayden’s

This semi-regular series alternates between Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen songs that perfectly complement a good bourbon and a quality book. You can make your own suggestions and recommendations in the comments section or by tweeting @WritersBone.

Bob

Dave Pezza: We bent the rules just a tad this week. “When I Get My Hands On You” is the lead single off of The New Basement Tapes’ one-off album “Lost on the River.” Comparable to the Traveling Wilburys, this collection of artists, including Marcus Mumford (Mumford & Sons), Jim James (My Morning Jacket), Elvis Costello, Taylor Goldsmith (Dawes), and Rhiannon Giddens (Carolina Chocolate Drops), were asked to create music based on a collection of uncovered, unused Bob Dylan lyrics. The album is worth checking out, if only for this single and “Down on the Bottom.” The whole collection has Bob Dylan’s fingerprints all over it. Although Dylan wrote the words, these artists managed to infuse his blues/folk simplicity and sarcastic, rueful emotion into every track. “When I get My Hands On You” fits well with our book this week, John le Carré’s Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, but I’m sure Daniel will subtly tell you why.

Daniel Ford: Number of men who sang this tune to George Smiley’s wife in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy: 578 (“Oh, sorry George old boy, I didn’t realize you were sitting right in front of me when I called your wife a dirty whore.” “Ricky, I’ve been asking you questions for two hours.” “Spot on, sod off!”). 

Bourbon

Daniel: Basil Hayden’s was my first bourbon. I had strictly been a scotch man before someone slammed a bottle of this joyous brown liquid down on a picnic table in front of me while I was attending a wedding in Tennessee. This guy had asked the local liquor store owner for a good bourbon and he had recommended Basil Hayden’s immediately. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in the back of a small yacht meandering the Tennessee River while sipping this sweet, satisfying bourbon. We drank the bottle all day, which gave us a warm glow and insatiable hunger for the smoked pork ribs served during the rehearsal dinner. I don’t interact with any of the people from that wedding (with good reason), but Basil Hayden’s remains a friend for all seasons.

Dave: I hadn’t tried this bourbon until a company outing with an open bar, so obviously I ordered a top-shelf bourbon. Basil Hayden’s is a terrific upper class bourbon, a little pricey, but worth every drop. Hayden’s always tends to go down fast for me, and not because of a particular smoothness or dilution.  It has a really rounded taste and kicks just the right amount. It’ll keep you tipping the bottle, especially on a cold, snowy night. Not a bad choice as a companion for an old school spy novel.

Book (and Movie!)

Daniel: It took me a while to get into John le Carré’s style, but once I did, I devoured Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy in two lengthy sittings (there were a few good things about these Boston blizzards). It reads more like a play at times, just two or three characters at a time talking in a quiet setting. How information is revealed throughout the novel is brilliant; the readers starts with a small morsel of intelligence that grows each time he or she turns the page, so that by the time George Smiley has his eureka moment, you’re exhausted, yet hungry for more. I’m eager to read the rest of the series and find out more about our pudgy, slightly rundown hero. 

Sean Tuohy: The movie adaption shares DNA with another era. You feel as if you have taken a step through a portal into the 1970's and landed right in the middle of the Cold War. The film is filled with a lot of long shots, which makes the viewer feel as if they are peeping Toms watching deeply private interactions. You have to keep your eyes glued to the screen and pay attention, which is very easy because of the way the film is shot and acted, because otherwise, you’d miss important clues that led Smiley to crack the case.

Dave: I saw the most recent film adaptation of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy a year or so ago, and loved it.  It’s the British version of “The Good Shepherd,” but better because it stars Gary Oldman! Like most good movies, I learned that that it was based on the first of novel of John le Carré’s Karla Trilogy that follows the exploits of British intelligence officer George Smiley and his hunt for the KGB mastermind codenamed Karla. Le Carré fully immerses his readers in Cold War espionage, a subject he’s more than familiar with as a former MI6 and MI5 employee. If you’re looking for a well written, accurate, and entirely suspenseful spy novel, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy will hit all the right notes.

For more Bruce/Bob, Bourbon, and Books, check out our full archive.