THE ‘80s A Special Report : ‘Nebraska’ Shapes the State of Rock in the ‘80s : Heading the list of the decade’s 10 best albums, Springsteen’s work champions integrity and social issues

I n “The River,” the first of his five albums of the 1980s, Bruce Springsteen delivered an ambitious and inspiring, 20-song summary of the best impulses of the first three decades of American rock.

The richly detailed examination of the state of the American Dream merged more fully than any rock album before it two of the music’s richest strains: the intuitive self-affirmation of Elvis Presley and troubled social commentaries of Bob Dylan.

Through its conflicting idealism and doubts, “The River” mirrored much of the country’s uncertainty about itself during a period of shifting values. An especially troubling question: Had the nation lost its compassion at home?

Spending four weeks at No. 1, the two-record set represented the triumphant climax (or so it seemed at the time) of a campaign to restore integrity and trust to rock ‘n’ roll--qualities that had become almost naive during the ‘70s, when rock fans saw a succession of former heroes compromise their artistic vision through indifference or indulgence.

Springsteen’s campaign was a daring one--and the rock community watched eagerly to see how he would respond to becoming the music’s first consensus leader since the days of the Beatles, Stones and Dylan.

His reply was “Nebraska,” a 1982 album that explored the anxious undercurrents of “The River” with a stark, relentless vision rarely seen in pop music.

There was a timeless aura to the simple acoustic guitar and harmonica backing as Springsteen sang about forces that led to isolation and disillusionment that cause people to either lose their will or strike back savagely.

Not surprisingly given its dark tone, “Nebraska” fell far short of the sales of “The River.” Yet the album helped set the agenda for ‘80s rock as much as any other single factor.

Springsteen’s sacrifice of sales in favor of creative impulse and socially conscious context sent two messages to the pop community. Art, not simply sales, was the highest goal; and social issues were once again the proper business of rock. By restoring faith in rock, Springsteen helped give a power to the musicians that made such events as “Live Aid” possible.

As both an artistic document and a catalyst for change, “Nebraska” was the most compelling album of the 1980s.

Bruce Springsteen’s “Nebraska” (Columbia, 1982)--Bob Dylan said he started writing about social issues in the ‘60s because everyone else in the folk music community was doing it. By contrast, part of the urgency and power of “Nebraska” is that it came at a time when almost no one in the commercial mainstream was writing about these matters. Springsteen’s message was a revolutionary jab against the prevailing “Me Generation” doctrine.

Realizing the album was too demanding for most listeners, Springsteen subsequently recast many of the same despairing themes into a more easily digested framework. The result was “Born in the U.S.A.”--the 1984 album that escalated his popularity to such extraordinary heights that the current backlash was inevitable. How he answers his latest challenge poses one of the most dramatic questions of the coming year.

U2’s “The Joshua Tree” (Island, 1987)--If Springsteen helped define rock’s path in the ‘80s, Ireland’s U2 emerged as the new band that carried the torch forward with the greatest imagination and heart. The foundation of this album, whose guitar-accented arrangements are as gloriously uplifting as the best moments of the Who’s “Who’s Next,” is a series of songs that acknowledge moments of discouragement and doubt without sacrificing faith. “The Joshua Tree” won a Grammy for album of the year--the first studio album by a pure rock band to be so honored by the U.S. record industry since the Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.”

Paul Simon’s “Graceland” (Warner Bros., 1986)--Talking Heads, Peter Gabriel, Sting and others also contributed to a greater interest in music from non-Western cultures, but Simon’s use of South African musicians and styles did the most to focus attention on an international pop perspective. Beyond the sheer humanity and warmth of this lively, engaging collection, however, there was Simon’s songwriting craft. Though long acknowledged as one of the master songwriters of the modern pop age, Simon demonstrated added maturity and heartwarming range in these frequently wistful and witty tales about human aspirations.

Prince’s “Purple Rain” (Warner Bros., 1984)--In the earlier “Dirty Mind”/”Controversy”/”1999” trio of albums, the decade’s most provocative pop figure challenged social and sexual norms in the tradition of Presley, Hendrix and Bowie. What made “Purple Rain” his most fully defined and important collection is that it took his early maverick vision and made it acceptable to a mass rock audience that once had been suspicious and even hostile. Remarkably, Prince did this without diluting his conflicting sex ‘n’ salvation message. Though he sometimes took indulgent wrong turns after this spectacular success, he stands as the most influential hit-maker of the decade and, arguably, the most electric figure in pop.

The Jesus and Mary Chain’s “Psychocandy” (Reprise, 1986)--Where artists like Springsteen, U2 and Prince help pull the usually fragmented rock audience together by reminding us of our common ideals, bands like the Jesus and Mary Chain encourage us to examine our differences and feel comfortable about them. The British band’s approach (a mix of the disarming romanticism of early Phil Spector records with a brutal, unsettling guitar feedback that approximates the disorienting nature of love at its most obsessive) clearly wasn’t for everyone--one reason the group remains largely unknown outside of college radio in this country. Still, the best moments in this album connect so strongly that it feels as if the music is being pumped directly into your bloodstream.

X’s Los Angeles (Slash, 1980)--One of the most artistically adventurous bands since the Velvet Underground, X wrote songs, like “Sex and Dying in High Society” and “The World’s a Mess; It’s in My Kiss,” that dealt with people pushing themselves to emotional limits. Beneath the turmoil, however, was a deeply rooted compassion and faith. Magnificently consistent through five studio albums, the Los Angeles quartet remains one of the treasures of modern rock.

The Pretenders’ “The Pretenders” (Sire, 1980)--There was more to this British band than its American leader Chrissie Hynde, but she is enough reason to celebrate it. Patti Smith, Suzi Quatro and Debbie Harry preceded her, but Hynde was the rock ‘n’ roll woman of the ‘80s. Sensual, intelligent and demanding, Hynde (who moved to London in the ‘70s) combined Keith Richards’ renegade cool on stage with the most vocal presence of any singer--male or female--in years and lyrics that could be snarling (against hypocrisy) or comforting (in support of loved ones). In this single album, Hynde erased forever the question of whether a woman can truly rock.

The Replacements’ “Tim” (Sire, 1985)--At times on stage in the mid-’80s, this Minneapolis band seemed to combine the humor of the Ramones, the energy of the Sex Pistols and the wobbly, self-destructive personality of the New York Dolls. Beneath the anarchy, however, were hints of a deeper dimension, and this album spoke about the fears, bravado and frustrations associated with the rites of passage. It was as gripping a document about growing into, without giving in to, adulthood since Pete Townshend’s peak. “Tim” was the ‘80s’ answer to “Tommy”--and almost as good.

R.E.M.’s “Murmur” (I.R.S., 1983)--Even more than the somewhat tradition-minded Replacements, this Athens, Ga., band defined the sound of American alternative rock in the ‘80s. Mixing alluring, dreamlike textures drawn from the Velvet Underground with the jangling, Populist rock freshness of the Byrds, R.E.M. expressed instrumentally the youthful awakening and questioning that the Replacements articulated so well in their lyrics.

Peter Gabriel’s “So” (Geffen, 1986)--Gabriel, who shared the stage with U2 and Bruce Springsteen on the Amnesty International tours of 1986 and 1988, respectively, also contributed to making the ‘80s the Age of Responsibility in rock. In the key moments of this remarkably graceful album he dealt with situations (lost esteem and psychological surrender) as dark and disheartening as the stories from “Nebraska.” Where Springsteen spoke from darkness to underscore the shame, the pop world had changed sufficiently in six years for Gabriel to reach out with a cleansing hand. The result was a series of eloquent, internationally-flavored musical arrangements that cried out for understanding with the tenderness of a prayer.