When I sit down to compose these essays, I always listen to the song a few times before I start to write: to refresh my memory, to remind myself of what I love or find curious, and to experience it with as close to fresh ears as I can manage.

After three times listening to the way “Preacher’s Daughter” builds in power, establishes its sweeping cinematic scope, and unleashes Bruce’s vocals… I’m shaking my dang head at how it’s possible that this masterpiece has never been released.

Take a listen with me.

Am I right, or what?

“Preacher’s Daughter” is an outtake from the Darkness on the Edge of Town sessions, but you would be forgiven for placing it during the Born to Run era instead. It certainly has more in common with Bruce’s third album, with street fight scenes straight out of “Jungleland” and a melody and rhythm made to mash seamlessly with “She’s the One.”

Lyrically, “Preacher’s Daughter” is a tale of good Catholic boy frustration–our hero is infatuated with the daughter of his church’s preacher, but the preacher is more than a match for his street-fueled bravado.

In the first verse, the narrator establishes the infatuation:

I got a date with the preacher’s daughter
She give me life, she bring me water
Every Sunday I watch her work
Pretty little self in a pretty little church
Daddy gives her a nod, she takes collection
Her daddy gives her a nod, she kneels by his side
Well I’d sell my soul for just one touch
The good Lord would too if he loved her half as much
Well I got a date with the preacher’s daughter

So far, so good–he’s already got the date set up. What could go wrong? Well, it seems that the preacher has some strong opinions about boys who race:

Daddy say that them boys no good
Just wanna race some coons out through the back woods
Well baby better believe what your daddy say
I just wanna ramrod, baby, my life away
It’s a long walk to heaven and a road filled with sin
And they better open up the freeway to let me in
‘Cause I got a date with the preacher’s daughter

That’s some great songwriting there–“Preacher’s Daughter” falls smack in the middle of Bruce’s road-as-metaphor-for-life period, but Bruce is more playful with the metaphor here than he usually is.

Until this point, our narrator seems pretty zen about the situation, but now he starts to simmer:

Well now I don’t care what the preacher say
I don’t care what the preacher do
I don’t care what the preacher like
I don’t care what the preacher think
He leads me to water but won’t let me drink

That’s another great line–the preacher exhorts our hero to go to church, where his daughter waits in temptation.

And now, the pressure that’s been building throughout the song explodes in a scene of street violence–it’s Saturday night–date night–and a fight breaks out in a sea of headlights, cleverly establishing a scene of youth, chaos, and testosterone.

Hey now on Sawmill Road on Saturday Night
Two boys fighting in a halo of light
Car door flung open, radio loud
And everybody shouting and running around
Two guys bloody, over what I don’t know
And all the little girls shouting, “Go Billy go, go Billy go”

Billy isn’t the point-of-view character here, though–our couple are just bystanders. But that doesn’t stop what happens next. In one of Bruce’s most cinematic unreleased verses, from out of the night comes the preacher:

Well just as I got the preacher’s daughter ready for a light
Yeah, Mister, the V-8 is firing but something ain’t right
And like a she-devil howling from the gates of hell
Goddamn here come the preacher in his Coupe De Ville
Burning up the back road, kicking in the dirt
Whoa baby, preacher thinks he’s in church

But the preacher isn’t in church–this isn’t his place of authority, and the resentment that’s been building in our hero boils over. He’s guilty of nothing worse than offering his girl a cigarette, but he knows he’s about to be deemed guilty by association and proximity.

Well now your lips they shine in the willow mist
And I swear I’d take your daddy on, girl, for just one kiss

Will our hero stand his ground? Will he fight for the right to see his girl? Or will he swallow his pride and bow to authority?

We never find out–the song ends with our narrator waiting or the confrontation, steeling himself:

I got a date with the preacher’s daughter
I got a date with the preacher’s daughter
I got a date with the preacher’s daughter

Musically, “Preacher’s Daughter” is clearly Bo Diddley-influenced, but Bruce keeps the rhythm restrained, letting his vocals build and seethe instead. By the time we reach the street scene, Bruce is singing in his upper register with unrestrained power, and we can only imagine how potent this song would be in concert.

Actually, we don’t have to imagine–while Bruce has never performed “Preacher’s Daughter” in its entirety, he did sing part of it in a “Mona” – “Preacher’s Daughter” – “She’s the One” medley of sorts that highlighted the final month of the Darkness Tour. The three songs form a kind of Bo Diddley tribute trilogy, with “Preacher’s Daughter” providing the melody for “Mona’s” lyrics and. Listen to the recording below from the famous Winterland 1978 show–at about the 2:20 mark, Bruce erupts into the “Preacher’s Daughter” street fight verse, and it’s an electrifying moment.

“Preacher’s Daughter” still resides in that legendary vault of Bruce’s, so maybe we’ll see an official release someday in that mythical Tracks II.

Preacher’s Daughter
Recorded:
October 27, 1977
Never Released
Never
Performed (in full, at least)

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5 Replies to “Roll of the Dice: Preacher’s Daughter”

  1. I feel like this review would be perfect if you just took out “Buddy Holly” and replaced him with “Bo Diddley” in those last two paragraphs. I know Bruce would sometimes play “Not Fade Away” as part of the intro to “She’s the One,” but “Mona” is Bo Diddley’s song and it’s really the template for “Preacher’s Daughter.” So playing them both together and then leading into “She’s the One,” which so clearly incorporates the Bo Diddley beat … I think it’s a clear reference/tribute to Bo Diddley.

    (And of course “Not Fade Away” doesn’t exist without that famous Bo Diddley beat.)

    “Preacher’s Daughter,” much like the original “Mona,” is a powerful, primal scream of a song. Even when it’s quiet it’s still just bursting with intensity.

    1. You’re completely right, Dave, and I have to imagine that I actually meant Bo Diddley and it somehow came out Buddy Holly (I sometimes write these things in the very wee hours), because when I read you comment, I couldn’t imagine what you were talking about until I went back and confirmed that, yep, I did actually write Holly. Total brain lapse. Thanks for spotting it! Fixed now.

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