Not long ago, I referred to the streak of Born to Run to Nebraska as “The Only Springsteen Albums That Matter.” This was a reference to the Boss’s later catalog in general, but it held its snobby fingers out to Born in the USA in particular and said, “yeah, I’m talking to YOU.”

Its overexposed lead single and a few words on music blogs about its “cheesy synths” suggested that my explorations into Springsteen’s sprawling discography might be better used away from this particular disc.

And after all, everyone knew that its only historical significance was the controversy it caused when a campaigning Reagan name-dropped Springsteen for the song’s message of hope and patriotism, causing everyone (Springsteen included) to wonder if Reagan had actually listened to the words.

But it’s easy to forgive Reagan for confusing it for a sort of national anthem–no one writes anthemic rock sing-alongs like the Boss, and there are plenty of them here. These kick-drum-stomping, heart-thumping, born-to-run rock songs are present on every Springsteen album (except Nebraska, of course), but they reach their highest ratio here. Most of the album lives in this heightened, stadium-ready state, coming down for the gorgeous, tender, and powerful ballads “I’m On Fire” and “My Hometown” which end each side.

The album was both praised and criticized for sounding “more commercial,” but the Boss ain’t selling out to anyone here. While there’s a drastic shift in instrumentation (the saxophone solos are far and few between), this is far from Neil Young’s synth-fueled misstep Trans. Rather, the synthesizers are only used when necessary (“Glory Days’” hammered-chord hook, “I’m On Fire’s” swelling pad) and avoided elsewhere. But even with the new sound, there’s no mistaking the E Street Band behind their Boss. They play as tight as ever, at times even threatening to dethrone Born to Run as their greatest performance. In the same way, Born in the USA threatens to embarrass anyone who doesn’t take it as seriously as it deserves.