Bruce Springsteen really likes Roy Orbison, and that esteem goes waaay back. Let’s watch Bruce describe the first time he ever saw Roy Orbison perform:
You can hear Orbison’s influence scattered throughout Bruce’s catalog, from the name check in “Thunder Road” to the vocal stylings of “The Brokenhearted” to the inspiration for “Leah.”
And then, of course, there’s “Cynthia.”
Many fans and commentators have picked up on Bruce’s Orbisonian “Cynthia” vocals. Heck, Bruce explicitly winked at “that guy” when he performed “Cynthia” on the Devils & Dust Tour:
But I’m surprised that no one ever seems to notice that “Cynthia” is essentially a re-write of Orbison’s “Oh, Pretty Woman” — or at the very least an answer song.
I mean, come on: compare Orbison’s opening verse…
Pretty woman, walkin’ down the street
Pretty woman the kind I like to meet
Pretty woman I don’t believe you, you’re not the truth
No one could look as good as you, mercy
…with Bruce’s:
Cynthia, when you come walking by you’re an inspiring sight
Cynthia, you don’t smile or say hi but baby that’s alright
‘Cause I don’t need to hold you or taste your kiss
I just like knowing, Cynthia, you exist, doll, in a world like this
Even Bruce’s inter-verse comments and asides are tributes to Orbison’s immortal “Mercy!”
But once we get past the homage aspect of “Cynthia,” we realize that it’s actually a deeper, more mature (albeit marginally) song than “Oh, Pretty Woman.”
Both songs are odes to women the singers will never know, but there’s a key difference. Orbison’s song is a fantasy turned fairy tale–the nameless object of his infatuation is clearly out of his league, but she nevertheless turns around at the end of the song and there’s clearly an implication of possibility if not an outright happy ending.
The narrator of “Cynthia,” by contrast, harbors no illusions. He knows he’ll never get the girl (and he doesn’t), and that’s fine by him. He’s a realist, not a dreamer (or a stalker–don’t listen too closely to Orbison’s lyrics), and the fantasy is enough for him. Like he says in the first verse, it’s enough just to know that Cynthia exists.
The “world like this” that Bruce’s protagonist lives in would appears to include a construction site–that’s where he works along with a crew of other fools who appreciate their daily visitor.
Cynthia, when you pass it seems like this whole town drops
Cynthia, or maybe it’s just me, baby, and these fools stuck here punching this clock
Well you give us a reason to stop just for a while
To stop, stand, baby, and salute your style
Yeah Cynthia
Our hero is sanguine about the situation–he knows there will be other women to dream about, more attractive ones even. But if you’re a blue-collar aesthete, you’ve got to take notice of beauty where you find it. Or when it finds you.
Well now you ain’t the finest thing I’ll never have
And when you go the hurt you leave but baby it ain’t so bad
Alright Cynthia
Yeah there ain’t a man in this whole town who’d say you ain’t fine
You hear them guys talking, tell me baby do you mind
Well you make us happy, honey, when we feel sad
To see something so good in a world gone bad
There’s still Cynthia, oh yeah
Cynthia, no one knows your number, no one knows where you live
Cynthia, I wonder do you understand this strange thing you give
Yeah well baby is it your style, the mystery in your smile
Or just how cool you walk in a world gone wild
Oh tell me if you will, Cynthia
In the end, “Cynthia’s” admirer differentiates himself from Orbison’s narrator in the song’s most direct explicit reference to “Oh, Pretty Woman.” In Orbison’s song, the hero sings:
Pretty woman don’t walk on by
Pretty woman don’t make me cry
Pretty woman don’t walk away, okay
But Bruce’s hero is fine with the fantasy. He encourages Cynthia to keep on walking, and in the song’s best line, he proclaims “I got other dreams as good as you, Cynthia” with a delivery that does its best to be respectful rather than dismissive.
Bruce channels his best Orbison impression for that line and the ones that follow, sending his pretty woman off to live her day.
Well I gotta be pretty naive to believe in you
I know you ain’t ever gonna be my dream come true
That’s alright, I got other dreams as good as you, Cynthia
Yeah now baby, now this ain’t no come-on
Now walk on, Cynthia, walk on
That’s right
Yeah go on there baby
And as Cynthia walks on, our hero goes back to work with a spring in his step, a work chant of “yeah, yeah, alright” and the fuel to get through the rest of the day.
Interestingly, the Farfisa-fueled version of “Cynthia” that appears on Tracks isn’t the original arrangement Bruce had in mind. (Note: surprisingly, that’s actually not Danny on the organ–it’s Roy.) Not even two months earlier, Bruce recorded “Cynthia” in a rockabilly arrangement. The lyrics are the same (or close enough), and the Orbison influence/homage is still very evident. Take a listen below–it’s a tough call as to which arrangement is superior. What do you think?
The biggest mystery about “Cynthia” is why Bruce kept it locked away in the vault for so long. Recorded during the Born in the U.S.A. sessions, the song would have been right at home on that album. In fact, in the summer of 1983, it was slated to be the second song on the album, immediately following the title track. For some reason, though, Bruce seemed to be its only champion, so he ultimately shelved it.
“Cynthia” stayed locked away until Bruce set her free on his 1998 Tracks compilation–but even on the Tracks-filled Reunion Tour that followed, “Cynthia” didn’t get her due.
Fans had to wait for the tail end of the Rising Tour to hear “Cynthia” on stage for the first time–specifically, at the last of ten Giants Stadium shows on August 31, 2003, when without any fanfare Bruce opened the show with it.
Bruce brought “Cynthia” out a half-dozen more times on his solo acoustic tour in 2005–always playing up the Orbison references like in the clip at the top of this essay.
But after that tour, “Cynthia” went back to her elusive ways, coming out only twice on the Magic Tour and twice on the Wrecking Ball Tour.
One of those times, though, was especially inspired. On a rainy birthday eve in 2012, after a two-hour thunderstorm delay, Bruce audibled “one of Steve’s favorite songs” early in the set (although he’d actually intended to open with it). The band plays the song just a bit faster than in previous performances, Steve’s harmonies are at least as strong as they are on vinyl, and Bruce–perhaps feeling his age (listen to his remark late in the song)–was particularly in character.
Like “Girls in Their Summer Clothes,” “Cynthia” is a song that ages well with its singer. Don’t count her out yet–“Cynthia” may come walkin’ on by again soon.
Want another take on “Cynthia?” Check out Katy Crane’s excellent essay here.
Cynthia
Recorded: June 15, 1983
Released: Tracks (1998)
First performed: August 31, 2003 (East Rutherford, NJ)
Last performed: July 23, 2013 (Cardiff, Wales)
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