springsteen raze almost every greatest hits album ever made misses out on too much of the magic hidden in the margins of the music it claims to encapsulate. listening to a single-disc compilation of police songs, you'll believe they were a great singles band. and they were. but you won't be at all prepared for how dark things could get when sting sent his muse straight to hell. even jeff_buckley has a best-of collection. and he only put out one full-length album in his lifetime. i kind of hate the things, if you want to know the truth, for the same reason most biopics boil my blood. they aim to flatten out what can't be contained. it isn't possible to summarize even the broad strokes of a person's life inside of two hours. so it is with a legacy of sound. and yet. a greatest hits album saved me when i was a scared kid hiding in a shared room with no lock on its gold-toothed door. it was one of the first cds i bought with my own money. eighteen tracks took me from "born to run" to "this hard land". two of bruce's most important stacks of songs only got one nod apiece. there was nothing at all from "the wild, the innocent & the e street shuffle" or "greetings from asbury park, n.j.". it didn't matter. i lost myself in the handwritten notes and hard-won hope. this was the first music that felt like it was mine, that i came to on my own steam. i don't know who i would be without it. i never gave a shit about the man's politics. what hooked me was his heart. now the jewel case is so wounded it falls apart every time i try to open it. two stubborn strips of ancient scotch tape stick to its scuffed skin. on the front cover there's a faded sticker of something like a diamond on its side or an angular football. no idea what it's trying to be. the same could be said about me. 240429 what's it to you? who go blather from