In a way, you can't really regret this development since there is something deeply logical about it. Actually, it is nothing but the flip side of the personal strength that initially made Springsteen's songwriting the most substantial and truly edifying in the whole music business. The secret power of Bruce Springsteen as an artist lies in his unshakeable mental health and his simple and reasonable outlook. He has never been neurotic, suicidal, sexually twisted, addicted to drugs, overwhelmed by fame or caught up in the myriad of silly entanglements that a bad character can cause you. And neither has he ever indulged in metaphysical speculations, religious hysteria, semi profound nihilism or cheap New Age philosophy. On several of the points mentioned he differs sharply from comparable songwriters like e. g. Bob Dylan, Pete Townshend, Lou Reed or David Bowie. This is obviously why a lot of bored and black-dressing music critics will reach for their gun when they hear the name "Bruce Springsteen". But this is also why so many average people have been able to relate to his songwriting and make use of it in their own lives. The problems fuelling Springsteen's creativity was always real problems, as opposed to problems generated by some kind of idiotic behaviour or whimsy. But in that perspective, it was only to be expected that Springsteen would experience an artistic crises when he suddenly didn't have any real problems left.
Since 1992 Springsteen's career has to some extent been kept artificially alive by releases other than studio albums. Three live albums (1992/2000/2003) plus four compilations (1995/1998/1999/2003) may not seem like a lot in comparison with the releases made by e. g. The Who. But in comparison with Springsteen's former release policy it marks a radical shift: Though known from the beginning as one the most spectacular live performers it took him more than a decade to decide on making Live 1975-85! On the other hand, Springsteen has created only two regular studio albums since 1992. To be sure, The ghost of Tom Joad (1995) and The Rising (2002) have both been very successful works - albeit in different ways, since the first was acoustic and the other made use of the full E Street Band. But they nevertheless share one striking characteristic, which mark them sharply off from their predecessors: Whereas formerly the narrator in the majority of the songs was more or less identifiable with Springsteen himself, it is now fictional characters who populate his albums. On The ghost of Tom Joad the principal characters were Mexican emigrants, and on The Rising they were people directly involved in the events of September 11 2001.
It may be that this is actually Springsteen's way of aging with dignity: To step back from the center of his own songwriting and take part in other people's lives, in social occurrences, eventually in politics. But whatever the merits of this change in attitude, it is hard not to hope for a more personal album next time - if only to refute the impression, that life past forty isn't really worthy of artistic representation. After all, it is not just Springsteen who gets older. His fans do too, and it is somewhat disturbing to have him setting an example of increasing silence concerning personal matters.