Roll of the Dice: Ballad of a Self-Loading Pistol

How?

How is it possible that Bruce has never released “Ballad of the Self-Loading Pistol” or performed it even once?

Longtime readers of this blog know that I frequently dive deeply into the well to spotlight Bruce’s castoffs. Admittedly, many of those were lost for good reason.

But just take a listen to this gorgeous, fully realized ballad, recorded just after the release of Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J. and then suggest one good reason why Bruce would let this gem languish in obscurity. Because I sure as heck can’t.

I can’t figure it out. Maybe it’s because Bruce wrote the song after his first album was already completed and out the door, because musically and lyrically it would have been right at home and provided good company on Greetings. By the time Wild & Innocent came out at the end of the year, Bruce had already evolved his sound. But certainly it would have fit nicely into an acoustic set, right?

There’s so much to appreciate about “Ballad of the Self-Loading Pistol”:

• The extremely ear-friendly melody that’s not only catchier than half of Greetings from Asbury Park (IMO, at least), it also bears a remarkable resemblance to Little Steven’s much later enduring classic, “I Am a Patriot” — so much so that I can’t help but wonder if “Ballad of the Self-Loading Pistol” had truly been forgotten.
• The story line that presages Bruce’s songwriting twenty years down the line. “Highway 29” is essentially a more mature, nuanced, and cinematic rewrite of “Ballad of a Self-Loading Pistol.” Both songs center around protagonists who are lured by lust into situations for which they’re unprepared and which end tragically. But compare Bruce’s 1973 lyric “There was a robbery, there was a holdup, there was a shootout, and there was a killing, and there’s blood on my hands” with “I had a gun, you know the rest–money on the floorboards, shirt was covered in blood and she was crying.” I’m not sure there’s a better example of how Bruce honed his storytelling craft over the years.
• Turns of phrase like “an appetite for loving only a fading beauty could possess” and “the love song a bullet sings as she whistles” that a songwriter could still be proud of decades later, and that stand out here because of the uncharacteristic (for the time) restraint Bruce shows with his metaphor and rhyming dictionary.
• The incredibly powerful vocal performance Bruce delivers, especially for a solo acoustic recording. You can feel the anguish of the son in your bones as he confesses his sins to his father.

“Ballad of the Self-Loading Pistol” may not compare as strongly with the similarly darkly themed songs of Nebraska and The Ghost of Tom Joad, but it stands tall among Bruce’s earliest works and deserves an outing in concert.

Father, I have come to tell you about something I done
Well, as the night reared its light head into a baby sun
We rolled down into the town from where the Black Throats come
And you know there was a robbery, there was a holdup
Oh, there was a shootout, and there was a killing
And there’s blood on my hands
Today I killed a man

Well now, sister, you know me well
And you ask me, well, how it was I felt
Well, she had an appetite for loving only a fading beauty could possess
She knew just what she wanted and she wouldn’t take less
I figured it was a small town, it was at sundown
It was just a small crowd of people around
Oh, but he wouldn’t put his guns down
No, he wouldn’t put his guns down
Woah, he wouldn’t put his guns down
Now his blood’s on my hands
Today I killed a man

And papa, you showed me the beauty of buckshot
The love song a bullet sings as she whistles
And showed me the story of the self-loading pistol

Well now, father, I have come to tell you about something I done
He had a widow running through town screaming
He had a brother and his tears were streaming
Now I’m moving on the border with a rifle on my shoulder
‘Cause daddy, you showed me the beauty of buckshot
The love song a bullet sings as she whistles
And showed me the glory of the self-loading pistol

And I just come to tell you that it don’t hurt no more
No, it don’t hurt no more ’cause your son, he’s an outlaw
Oh, your son, he’s an outlaw
Yes, your son, he’s an outlaw
Oh, your son, he’s an outlaw
Now, your son, he’s an outlaw
Oh, your son, he’s an outlaw
And this blood feels good on my hands
Today I killed a man

Ballad of a Self-Loading Pistol
Recorded: January 29-30, 1973
Never released
Never performed

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