Bruce Springsteen, the legendary American songwriter known for his unflinching takes on the nation’s conscience, has once again thrust himself into the heart of controversy. On Wednesday, January 28, 2026, Springsteen released a blistering protest anthem titled “Streets of Minneapolis,” a song written just four days earlier in response to what he called “state terror being visited on the city of Minneapolis.” This rapid-fire creative process—writing on Saturday, recording on Tuesday, and releasing on Wednesday—underscores the urgency and emotion fueling Springsteen’s latest work.
At the center of the song’s genesis are two names now etched into the city’s memory: Alex Pretti, a 37-year-old ICU nurse, and Renee Macklin Good, a 37-year-old mother of three. Both were fatally shot by federal immigration enforcement agents in Minneapolis this January. Springsteen dedicated the song to “the people of Minneapolis, our innocent immigrant neighbors and in memory of Alex Pretti and Renee Good,” as he stated on social media. The dedication is more than symbolic; it’s a rallying cry for justice and remembrance, delivered with the Boss’s signature blend of grit and empathy.
“Streets of Minneapolis” unfolds as a full-band, rock and roll epic, complete with the E Street Choir lending their voices to the chorus. Springsteen’s signature raspy vocals deliver lines that are at once mournful and incendiary, painting a picture of a city under siege. He spares no one in his lyrical critique, calling out “King Trump’s private army from the DHS” and labeling federal agents as “federal thugs.” The lyrics are unambiguous: “Through the winter’s ice and cold / Down Nicollet Avenue / A city aflame fought fire and ice / ‘Neath an occupier’s boots / King Trump’s private army from the DHS / Guns belted to their coats / Came to Minneapolis to enforce the law / Or so their story goes.”
Springsteen’s new song is not just a lament; it’s a pointed indictment of the Trump administration’s immigration crackdown. In the weeks leading up to the song’s release, Minneapolis saw the arrival of roughly 3,000 federal agents as part of an aggressive immigration enforcement operation. The city’s daily rhythms have been upended, with widespread protests erupting in response to what many residents and activists see as an occupation. The song’s verses narrate the killings of Pretti and Good, highlighting the contrast between government officials’ statements and what eyewitness videos and independent analyses suggest.
Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem described Pretti’s actions as “domestic terrorism,” claiming he “brandished” a gun and “attacked” officers. Stephen Miller, a top aide to President Trump, went so far as to call Pretti an “assassin.” Good, too, was labeled a “domestic terrorist” by Noem. Yet, as reported by The New York Times, video analysis contradicted these official characterizations. Pretti was legally carrying a holstered gun but never reached for it and had been disarmed before being shot by two Customs and Border Protection officers. Good, meanwhile, had simply parked her vehicle and was beginning to drive away when an agent standing near one of the front wheels fired the fatal shot.
The song’s chorus—“Their claim was self defense, sir / Just don’t believe your eyes / It’s our blood and bones / And these whistles and phones / Against Miller and Noem’s dirty lies”—underscores the disconnect between official narratives and the reality on the ground. Springsteen’s lyrics evoke the imagery of citizens using cellphones to record confrontations and blowing whistles to alert neighbors, a nod to the grassroots resistance that has defined Minneapolis’s response.
Springsteen’s protest is not happening in a vacuum. Since Pretti’s death on January 24, celebrities across the music, film, and sports worlds have voiced their solidarity with anti-ICE protesters in Minnesota. Pop star Olivia Rodrigo, for instance, said on Instagram, “ICEs actions are unconscionable but we are not powerless. Our actions matter. I stand with Minnesota.” Katy Perry used her platform to urge followers to call their senators, writing, “because it’s time to turn anger into action.” Billie Eilish’s brother and collaborator Finneas delivered a scathing rebuke of the justifications offered for Pretti’s killing, arguing, “You spent 30 years telling us children have to die so we’re allowed to legally carry weapons everywhere in the United States…you didn’t draw his weapon. He had a weapon on him, legally.” Eilish herself amplified her brother’s message, challenging fellow celebrities to speak out.
Springsteen has a long history of political engagement and protest through music. He was a vocal critic of President Trump during the 2016 and 2020 elections, calling the president a “threat to our democracy” in an interview with The Atlantic. Last year, he opened his UK tour with fierce criticism of the Trump administration, accusing it of authoritarianism and illegal deportations. The release of “Streets of Minneapolis” is the latest chapter in this ongoing saga, but it’s far from his first foray into protest songwriting. In 2000, his song “American Skin (41 Shots)” about the killing of Amadou Diallo by police officers drew sharp rebuke from law enforcement groups.
Springsteen’s activism extends beyond the studio. Earlier this month, he dedicated a live performance of “The Promised Land” to Renee Good during the Light of Day Winterfest concert in Red Bank, New Jersey. Addressing the crowd, he described the federal law enforcement presence in Minneapolis as “heavily armed, masked federal troops invading an American city, using Gestapo tactics against their fellow citizens.” He also echoed the words of Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey, declaring, “ICE should get the f--- out of Minneapolis.”
The city’s mayor, Jacob Frey, has been outspoken in his criticism of the federal crackdown, aligning with local activists’ calls for ICE to leave Minneapolis. The protests have been marked by chants of “ICE out now,” and demonstrators have continued to fill the streets despite the heavy law enforcement presence. The heart and soul of the city, as Springsteen’s lyrics suggest, persist through “broken glass and bloody tears.”
Not everyone has welcomed Springsteen’s intervention. White House spokeswoman Abigail Jackson dismissed the song, telling NBC News, “The Trump Administration is focused on encouraging state and local Democrats to work with federal law enforcement officers on removing dangerous criminal illegal aliens from their communities—not random songs with irrelevant opinions and inaccurate information.”
Yet, for many in Minneapolis and beyond, “Streets of Minneapolis” is more than a song; it’s a testament to the power of art in the face of adversity. The names of Alex Pretti and Renee Good, immortalized in Springsteen’s lyrics, now serve as both a warning and a call to action. In the winter of 2026, the city’s pain and resilience have found their voice—one that, thanks to Springsteen, will echo far beyond the snow-filled streets where it all began.