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The feeling of a changing world

  • 3 days ago
  • 4 min read

Harvey Duke writes on protest songs and the power of art, highlighting Bruce Springsteen's new protest song 'The Streets of Minneapolis', which was the fastest trending song on YouTube in the United States on the day of its release.


We’ve all heard the idea: the personal is political. There are moments in our lives when what had felt deeply personal also begins to feel deeply political. Even before we know much about politics, Art can sometimes help us feel connected to the world and alive to the possibility that things can change for the better.


Once, a long time ago, I sat in a classroom and looked at a painting I’d just finished. I had used a sponge to smudge blue and white paint into blurred shapes of waves curling. I also used the bristles of a paintbrush and my thumb to spray white dots of paint, so it looked as if foam was flying through the air above the waves. The teacher said it was good work. I felt a little bit more in control of my world that day than I normally did.


Another day in class I used a well-chewed pencil to draw one of an old pair of trainers. I was slightly annoyed at the intricate laces and the tiny shadows on the battered shoe, because it was so difficult to get right. Again, and again my gaze flicked from shoe to drawing and back again. Carefully drawing lines, shading. Trying to get my drawing to look a bit like the real thing.


Many ordinary things can be hard to draw or paint, as there so many things going on which you don’t normally notice. Intricate lines, shadows, and sometimes movement. So, when children and adults learn how to draw and paint, they also learn that the world is made up of a wonderful variety of interconnected things. The long, graceful neck of a swan, the gliding V of a flock of geese high up in a pale blue sky. An infinite variety of ever-changing shapes and colours, painted on a canvas we call time.


As I grew up, my main way of noticing the world shifted from art to writing. Trying to describe a thing, event or people in words has always fascinated me. How can squiggles on a page communicate an appearance or an idea? How can we write about human qualities like love, hate, or racism and know, at least to some extent, what the words mean?


As the far Right once again threaten the world, I see many people, including artists, writers and musicians try to relate their personal anxiety and fears to a deeply felt urge to engage in political protest.


Take, as an example, Bruce Springsteen's protest song – Streets of Minneapolis. 6.3 million people viewed the official video in just 2 weeks on YouTube. The song is at the top of national and international charts. Due to the scale of the phenomenon, it’s not simple to notice the depth of personal response in this deeply political song.


When the song was just a few days old, and the news was full of reports of the murders of Alex Pretti and Renee Good by ICE agents in Minneapolis, I watched the video. I saw the way Springsteen snarled some of the lines, condemning the state’s brutality. Springsteen’s controlled anger was easy to see, but perhaps less obvious was a depth to the emotions expressed. I suspect it has to do with a life dedicated to creating music, sometimes through trauma or despite it. Springsteen, in his childhood and youth, witnessed unforgettable domestic violence, and had to overcome in later years periodic bouts of depression. Like all who have travelled such a hard path, any injustice and violence in our ‘current’ times can re-traumatise a person. I think that’s where the power of Springsteen’s singing comes from. As gunshots rang out, over half a century of fame and songs vanished for a while and a man who clearly cares a lot about working class communities was just a boy facing terrible brutality. Then, the adult songwriter had to find a way to channel rage and a determination to survive and overcome into words and music.


An interesting aspect of many protest songs is the way that simple phrases can hold so much power in the context of a mass struggle. We listen to Springsteen’s simple words, and we already know the racism of Trump’s regime, the vicious role of ICE agents, the terrible reality of the murder of Renee Good and Alex Pretti and others, and we know also that thousands of US citizens rose up in a mass rebellion against injustice. So, the words of the song are alive with meaning, from the opening lines:


Through the winter’s ice and cold

Down Nicollet Avenue

A city fought fire and ice

‘Neath an occupier’s boots


Other protest songs have started to emerge across the world in response to the far-Right threat. Most also have simple descriptive phrases in their lyrics; yet few have the power of delivery of Springsteen’s singing. And that does not flow just from fame. It is because words are not enough in these hugely challenging times. For any song to resonate with the heart of a mass movement, there must be musical artistry but also a genuine cry against all injustice. To be on the side of working-class resistance in this era is to stand firmly against barbarism. The rage, courage, and determination it takes to overcome personal trauma are the same qualities it takes to be part of a mass rebellion against injustice. When we hear, see or read an artist’s genuine solidarity with a mass rebellion, it feels political in a way which also feels deeply personal. I expect, in the difficult years of struggle ahead of us, there will be many more powerful artistic expressions of protest. In movies, songs, and books. Whatever form they take, they will help us all.

Published 17 February 2026.

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