In 1949, Bruce Springsteen was born to middle-class parents living in Freehold, N.J, a blue-collar town across the river from Manhattan. From an early age, Bruce was a fan of early Rock ‘n Roll (especially Elvis and Roy Orbison), the Brill Building sound/artists, as well as Folk music and Rhythm and Blues. When the Beatles made their 1964 American debut on the Ed Sullivan Show, their casual musical interest shifted to intense. On his exposure to the Beatles, Springsteen recalls, “That’s when Rock 'n' roll came to my house, where there seemed to be no way out. Four guys playing and performing their own material opened up a whole world of possibilities.”  Like so many other kids his age, that’s when Bruce got his first guitar.

By 1965, a 16-year-old Bruce Springsteen joined his first band, called “The Castles.” The band cut their teeth playing at block parties, skating rinks, VFW halls, and non-alcoholic teen events and hangouts, before coming of age and graduating to bars and clubs. It was with this youthful band that Springsteen started writing and performing original songs and even had the opportunity to record two original tracks at a local public access recording studio. The Castles’ resulting self-released single even managed to sell a few hundred copies locally. It set the band apart from other bands in the area and gave Springsteen the first taste of what he was after. Sadly, an incident involving three Castles members, undercover police, and a whole bunch of funny-smelling cigarettes spelled the end of Springsteen’s first band. 

Later that same year, his family packed up and moved from Freehold, NJ, across the country to California. The just-turned-19-year-old Bruce opted to stay behind, continuing to chase his musical ambitions in the bustling bars and clubs of the Jersey Shore's vibrant music scene. His decision started paying off right away, as his new band, “Child,” was rapidly becoming a featured act in the Asbury Park scene. All the while, Springsteen immersed himself in his surroundings, even taking up residence in the back of a local surfboard shop, large enough to hold band rehearsals. He drew songwriting inspiration from the Jersey Shore’s vibrant cast of characters, who sought purpose, meaning, love, or simply a better way to get by. These themes became recurring subject matter in his potent lyrical handiwork throughout his entire career.  

At 23, Springsteen began to feel that he was getting too old to be couch surfing and was in urgent need of income. Although initially hesitant, without a working band and no job skills outside the music world, selling songs started sounding like a good idea. Armed with a borrowed acoustic guitar, Springsteen managed to secure an informal audition with Jon Redmond, the legendary talent scout who discovered Bob Dylan. Springsteen’s songs and impromptu solo audition impressed Redmond enough to secure a three-record recording contract with Columbia Records. 

After nearly eight years building a reputation as the frontman of the Jersey Shore’s most noted live bands, Springsteen finally got his big break. Ironically, it was not as the charismatic electric guitar-slinging hard rock frontman, but as a modern folk-style “singer-songwriter.”

With the relatively small, but much-needed cash advance from the label, Springsteen allowed himself just one inexpensive, but fateful extravagance. With his hard-rocking bar band days in his rearview mirror, Springsteen went shopping for a guitar that would complement his new musical direction. Although Columbia signed him on the strength of his pared-down singer-songwriter style, Springsteen had broader ideas about his future musical direction. Instead of buying a high-quality flattop acoustic, Springsteen walked out of a small NJ guitar shop with an electric guitar that would help define his career. 

Following in the footsteps of blue-eyed R&B and soul guitarists such as Steve Cropper and James Burton, Springsteen was instantly drawn to a second-hand Fender on the wall. The (then) two-decade-old guitar already seemed to have as many stories to tell as the characters in his lyrics. Sometimes referred to as a parts-caster, or a “Frankenstein,” the guitar that captivated Springsteen was assembled from at least two different instruments. The unique V-shaped neck originated from a 1956 Esquire, and its stunningly grained Ash body was produced in 1953 for a Telecaster. The guitar's previous owner had also modified it to accommodate two additional pickups, each with a dedicated output jack. By the time Springsteen first laid eyes on it, the extra pickups had been removed, leaving a hidden route under the customized black leather guard. Although most players frown upon guitars with modifications that require removing body wood, Springsteen found it a blessing in disguise. The routes transformed an already lightweight guitar into a featherweight axe, making it wieldy enough to play throughout one of his famous 4-hour marathon concerts, as if fate had custom-built the guitar just for him. 

The guitar has since appeared on four of Springsteen’s multi-platinum album covers (including Born to Run). It also served as his go-to recording and primary touring instrument from 1975 until 2005, when the battered beauty was retired. The Boss still uses his favorite axe for tracking and special performances, but has had several replicas built to do the heavy lifting on tour. Springsteen’s Esquire is undoubtedly one of the most recognizable and iconic electric guitars in the world, and would easily fetch over $ 5 million at auction-- but don’t look for it anytime soon. The boss has no intention of parting with it. At $185 plus trading in his “Steel Mill” days Les Paul model guitar, Springsteen recalls the transaction as the best deal he’s ever had in his life. 

 Aside from literally bringing the album to life in the studio, Springsteen needs to clear just one more critical obstacle. No matter how great the album turns out, without proper promotional support from the record label, sales will likely be disappointing. Springsteen needs to convince Columbia Records (and sometimes himself) that the new material is worthy of a full-blown promotional juggernaut. 

Tense sessions for Born to Run began in January of 1974 at the familiar 914 Sound Studios, where Springsteen and company recorded the first two albums. Although it was a professional-quality facility, it was far from state-of-the-art and prone to occasional breakdowns. However, it was close to NJ, and far more affordable than anything in NYC, making it an excellent choice for marathon sessions, lengthy projects, and artists on a budget. As it turns out, Born to Run was all of these things. 

Amid ambitious production goals, painstaking attention to detail, constant changes, and second-guessing, it took nearly 6 months before a rough mix of the title track was ready to present to Columbia execs for much-needed approval. On November 3, 1974 (nine months before the album's completion), Columbia Records (and several prominent FM radio stations) simultaneously got their first taste of the new album. It was a dangerous move, but it paid off. At first, Colombia was horrified by the unauthorized broadcasts. Rave reviews and relentless listener demand not only softened the blow but also achieved Springsteen’s objective of proving his next record would be a blockbuster. Shortly after, Columbia Records committed to a whopping $250,000 promotional campaign in support of Born to Run. 

With the relief of gaining committed label support, you might guess the sessions took on a more relaxed vibe, but things only got more intense. Springsteen set the bar far above, keeping his recording career alive. He needed hits, but aimed for anthems on an album that’s nothing short of the Rock ‘n Roll masterpiece he envisioned. It took over 14 months to complete recording  Born to Run, leaving the final mix to be completed after the band had already started playing committed tour dates. Yet he remained unsatisfied with the outcome, fervently rejecting several mixes before finally giving his approval. Springsteen later admitted, "The sessions turned into something that was wrecking me, just pounding me into the ground,” and “after a while, I could only hear the things that were wrong with it.” Fortunately, nobody else seemed to hear whatever The Boss thought was wrong with “Born to Run.”