The narrator's past love affair appears to have taken place in Mexico. And this is how he remembers his beliefs at that time: "I was sure the work an that smile coming out 'neath your hat was all I'd ever need". The mentioning of work points to the the social realities of the situation. You get the impression that this guy may have left Mexico to get a better or a more rewarding job - and maybe some more sophisticated women too. Once again, this brings reminiscences of the Tom Joad album. But there might be a good reason why this song is appearing on the new album instead. For the symbolic power of the sexual descriptions is completely overshadowing any hint at the social and political background. At its core Reno isn't a song about social forces influencing emigrants but about inner forces common to all people: It doesn't matter much whether you are rich or poor when the problem is, that "somehow all you ever need's, never really quite enough you know".
So the narrator's degrading experience with the prostitute isn't really representing the social injustices opposed by Tom Joad - it is, rather, representative of Springsteen's new general theme, "devils and dust". The metaphor of "devils and dust" seems to signal a profound change in Springsteen's worldview. It is obviously loaded with religious associations, which indicates that the increasing commitment to Christianity, noticeable in his songwriting since the beginning of the nineties, has by now passed the level of the tentative and searching. Furthermore, it points to a pretty pessimistic view on man's destiny in the profane, physical world. To judge from his new album, Springsteen has developed an extremely dualistic conception, where salvation seems almost unattainable, and where "devils and dust" - i. e. death, failure, betrayal in love relations and personal forfeiture and dissolution - appears to be the hard facts of human existence. There is a strong element of Gnosticism in this point of view: Man's "godfilled soul" seems to be basically homeless in a material world, whose primary characteristic is the absence of God.
In Reno these Gnostic tendencies find expression in an interesting metaphorical use of light. Presumably, the blinds are closed in the room of the prostitute but, distracted as he is, the narrator notices how the sunlight from outside is "slicing through". Now, given the sense of sin surrounding the whole situation, this light instantly becomes symbolic. And in the narrator's train of associations it appears to be the very trigger, by which he is reminded of his old girlfriend - exactly at this point he gets overwhelmed by old memories, beginning with the words: "Sunlight on the Amatitlan, sunlight streaming thru your hair". This means that there is something like a struggle between darkness and light going on, when the narrator's mind switches between perception and memory. His memories play the same role as "der Ruf des Gewissens", "the call of conscience", played in Martin Heidegger's existential philosophy - i. e. they represent his better part in a situation where he is about to loose himself. But the striking thing is the weakness of this calling. If it represents a presence of God, it is remarkable that it's not even a real presence. In Reno the "light up above" is nothing but a past reality remembered, and the narrator's real presence is fully expressed in the merciless descriptions of the intercourse.