Roll of the Dice: Streets of Philadelphia

Will the real “Streets of Philadelphia” please stand up?

Is it the one that plays over the opening credits of Jonathan Demme’s film, Philadelphia?

Or is it the four-minute-plus track released on the movie’s soundtrack?

Or the trimmed-down single?

Or the super-trimmed down version from Greatest Hits? (It clocks in almost a full minute shorter than the one on the movie soundtrack.)

Or is it the version from Bruce’s video, featuring a completely different vocal, performed live while Bruce walked the streets of Philly with a hidden microphone?

Or could it be the version from the rarely seen video Bruce filmed in 1994?

Oh, and then there’s the legendary version featuring jazz legends Ornette Coleman and Little Jimmy Scott, which remains unreleased to this day, although we can hear it playing during an emotional scene in Philadelphia.

That’s a whole lot of versions for a one-off, between-albums single, but “Streets of Philadelphia” is no ordinary song, not even for Bruce.

Almost twenty years later, it’s hard to remember let alone believe that by late 1993, when Bruce’s name came up in casual conversation, it was often appended to “Whatever happened to?”

Born in the U.S.A. was now almost a full decade in the rear-view mirror, and Bruce’s latest two albums and accompanying tour failed to set the charts on fire.

His life had changed, too: Bruce was now a family man, and his songwriting for the past six years had been focused on relationships–mostly happy ones. His legendary empathy and finely-drawn character studies seemed to be a thing of the past, as his writing became more personal and intimate. Fans doubted they’d ever hear lyrics in the vein of “The River” or “Highway Patrolman” ever again.

Then Jonathan Demme came calling.

Actually, he called Neil Young first. Demme had already finished shooting his upcoming film when he decided he needed a rousing rock anthem to ease his audiences into his movie’s sobering, sensitive subject. He asked Neil to write one for him, but Neil sent him back a moving piano ballad instead. (It plays over the film’s closing credits.)

He called Bruce next. Surely the American rock icon would rise to the task, and Bruce reportedly did his best to oblige. But the subject matter of Demme’s film hit a little too close to home. Bruce had recently lost a close family friend to cancer, and while AIDS is a very different disease from sarcoma, they share a common cruelty: the long, slow, withering and wasting away of their victims, while their loved ones can only keep watch and company.

Bruce latched on to Tom Hanks’ character in the movie and crafted a deeply, heartbreakingly empathic self-elegy that proved that Bruce still had his craft, just waiting for his command.

The beauty of Bruce’s lyrics lies in the way he simultaneously describes both the biological and emotional toll of the disease, and the separation it creates in this life before death makes it permanent.

I was bruised and battered, I couldn’t tell what I felt
I was unrecognizable to myself
Saw my reflection in a window and didn’t know my own face
So brother are you gonna leave me wasting away
On the streets of Philadelphia

I walked the avenue ’til my legs felt like stone
I heard the voices of friends vanished and gone
At night I could hear the blood in my veins
Just as black and whispering as the rain
On the streets of Philadelphia

These verses are among Bruce’s finest. What must it feel like to not recognize your own reflection anymore? Bruce’s narrator feels a sense of detachment from himself but craves connection with his… brother? Lover? Friend? Bruce deliberately leaves the identity a mystery so that the song relates universally.

But especially at the time the song was written, AIDS drove a wedge of fear that isolated its victims. Our narrator isn’t the first in his circle to be claimed by the disease–he’s already lost friends and loved ones. That loss weighs him down as much as the disease itself does, and at night he can hear the blood in his veins–that’s Bruce conveying not just how weak he’s become but how alone he is. There’s no sound but his own blood.

The streets of Philadelphia represent the purgatory our narrator finds himself in–shunned by but not yet ready to leave this world. As the second verse transitions to the bridge, our narrator’s detachment gives way to anguish.

Ain’t no angel gonna greet me
It’s just you and I my friend
And my clothes don’t fit me no more
I walked a thousand miles just to slip this skin

Bruce conveys so much with these four lines, especially the first: he uses the angel to convey both societal ostracism and self-loathing with a single religious symbol. Our narrator is alone, unloved even by himself.

And here we have what is perhaps the song’s greatest heartbreak: even the narrator’s lover has abandoned him, or at least distanced himself. In the song’s final verse, our narrator pleads with him for a simple kiss so that he knows he’s not alone, that he’s still here in this world.

The night has fallen, I’m lying awake
I can feel myself fading away
So receive me brother with your faithless kiss
Or will we leave each other alone like this
On the streets of Philadelphia

We never find out whether the narrator’s brother answers his plea, or even whether he hears it. The song leaves us in the narrator’s purgatory, where we serve as his only company.

Much to Demme’s frustration, Bruce’s tragically poetic lyrics weren’t suited for a rock anthem no matter how hard the songwriter tried. Bruce ended up taking the backing track in a different direction–a very different direction. He made a demo with a hip-hop beat and ethereal synths, and in an echo of Nebraska, he found it hard to improve upon the demo.

The released versions (most of them, anyway) feature added backing vocals and bass from 1992-93 touring band member Tommy Sims, and the movie features glimpses of Little Jimmy Scott’s vocals. But other than those elements, it’s tough to tell the difference between various versions and mixes without a very deep listen.

Demme was profoundly moved by the song Bruce sent him, but he threw up his hands in hopelessness over ever getting the rocker he’d hoped for. Fortunately, Demme’s wife convinced him to pay attention to what Neil and Bruce were saying with their songs–perhaps he didn’t really need an anthem to draw an audience after all.

She was right. Upon release, “Streets of Philadelphia” became more than just a hit single–it became one of Bruce’s all-time greatest hits and his very last Top Ten radio single ever.

“Streets of Philadelphia” peaked at #9 on the Billboard Hot 100 in the U.S., #4 in Australia, #2 in the U.K., and #1 in France, Germany, Canada, Italy and other countries.

Combined with gushing critical acclaim, the song’s popularity powered “Streets of Philadelphia’ through awards season, garnering Bruce his first Oscar…

…a Golden Globe Award…

…four Grammy Awards…

…and an MTV Video Music Award.

Well aware that his image as an All-American Male made him an especially powerful messenger for the theme of the song and movie, Bruce used his podium moments to express his compassion and encourage acceptance.

Bruce wasn’t finished exploring this theme. Well after he released “Streets of Philadelphia,” he recorded a song with the E Street Band called “Waiting on the End of the World,” which contains lyrics so similar to “Streets of Philadelphia” that it may actually be a derivative of an early version of it.

A quarter-century on, “Streets of Philadelphia” is not only regarded as one of the greatest songs ever to grace a motion picture, it’s also enshrined in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s 500 Songs That Shaped Rock and Roll. And while it may have marked the end of Bruce’s commercial popularity, it kick-started the next phase of his career and cemented his enduring critical popularity.

With that kind of pedigree, one would think Bruce would perform it more frequently. Yet, “Streets of Philadelphia” remains a relative rarity outside of his acoustic tours. Why doesn’t Bruce play it more often? Perhaps because “Streets of Philadelphia” is too intimate and frail a song to translate well to a muscular band arrangement. I’d certainly argue in favor of his acoustic performances when selecting his best versions.

Still, “Streets of Philadelphia” is a pretty sure bet when Bruce brings the band to Philly, as it remains a reliable way to please people who like to cheer for their town’s name.

So if “Streets of Philadelphia” is on your chase list, you’ve still got a pretty good chance of catching it live… as long as you make the trip to the City of Brotherly Love.

Streets of Philadelphia
Recorded: August 1993
Released: Philadelphia (1994), Greatest Hits (1995), The Essential Bruce Springsteen (2003)
First performed: January 27, 1994 (Los Angeles, CA)
Last performed: September 9, 2016 (Philadelphia, PA)

Looking for your favorite Bruce song? Check our full index here. New entries return in August!