Roll of the Dice: Fade to Black

He’s better known for his encyclopedic knowledge of rock history, but he’s also quite the cinematic connoisseur.

Bruce Springsteen’s catalog is filled with titles borrowed from the films of his youth. As early as “Thunder Road” and as recently as “Western Stars,” Bruce leavened his songs with cinematic shorthand and stage direction.

If his penchant had a peak, it came as the late 1970s gave way to the 1980s. From the somber “Adam Raised a Cain” to the noirish “Point Blank” to the dreamlike “Downbound Train,” the influence of Hollywood on Bruce’s songwriting is undeniable. In 1979, he went all in with “Be True,” a song so laden with film imagery and vocabulary that it sounds as if it was written by a film student.

But there was almost another song even more directorial–one as dark and depressing as “Be True” is bright and romantic.

Bruce wrote “Fade to Black” during his Nebraska songwriting period, and had he finished it (judging from the demo below, he was very, very close) it would have been perfectly at home on his 1982 album in style, tone, and content.

“Fade to Black” begins where “Be True” ends: in a movie theater.

Sunday matinee in a one-dog town
You’re two seats away, I move two seats down
Wipe the tears from your eyes, the first kiss I stole
I walk you home, the credits roll

Fade to black

“Be True” ends on a sad, lonely note, but the narrator’s unwavering fidelity against an irresistibly bright backing track tells us better days are coming.

In a nice bit of symmetry, “Fade to Black” begins with a meet-cute that leads to instant connection, but despite the intentionally ironic opening verse credit roll, we can tell from Bruce’s quiet, defeated tone that a happy ending is not in store.

Or even a happy middle.

I hear my voice on the telephone
But I’m just running the same old business
I feel like I’m off somewhere so alone
Just watching us both running the distance
Watching us both slowly pull back

Fade to black

It’s not clear how much time has passed between the first two verses, but the emotional distance between our two lovers is now much greater than two seats. Bruce’s narrator feels removed, absent from his own relationship (a theme he had recently explored in “Stolen Car”), and the camera pulls back so that we might more viscerally feel the growing distance.

It all comes to a head in the third verse and the half-verse that follows:

I come home, clothes all over the place
You’re crying in the corner, makeup running down your face
Your case is packed, the fight starts, I end up cursing
Baby is this the scene which we’ve been rehearsing
Is this the one or have I lost track
Waiting for us to fade to black

A face lit with shame, eyes filled with hurt
I scream out your name, you rip my shirt

This is the break-up moment… or is it? It’s obviously not their first go-round; they’ve been here so many times that our characters are like weary actors after dozens of takes before a demanding director, wondering whether this is final cut or just another dress rehearsal. (Baby is this the scene which we’ve been rehearsing is the most devastating line of the song.)

If that wasn’t the break-up moment, it came soon after.

In a small bungalow, a late afternoon
The sunlight falls like a bright veil
A camera pans an empty room
The picture dissolves and slowly pulls back

Fade to black

The final verse takes place on an empty stage–an empty bungalow, once a shared home but now abandoned and lifeless after the dissolution of a marriage or love affair. Bruce drapes the light across the room like a veil (a bridal metaphor), flooding the room in afternoon sun for the sole purpose of… fading to black.

It’s a disquieting note on which to end, and an atypical one too. More often than not, Bruce leaves his stories unresolved, allowing the listener to write their own conclusions. “Fade to Black” still resolves itself offscreen, but it leaves no room for uncertainty over how.

“Fade to Black” is masterful in its use of stage direction as a conceit through which to record the disintegration of a relationship. While only an acoustic home demo, it’s a hair’s breadth away from lyrical completion.

Why it didn’t make Nebraska or a later album is still a mystery, but if Bruce’s session logs (which indicate a studio version was recorded in 1982) are to be believed, we might yet someday get to hear the finished version.

Fade to Black
Recorded: Late 1981 (demo only)
Never released
Never performed

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