What Browne Does for You. Live.

In the last installment of Notes on Jackson Browne, rearranged to suit the sensibilities (and sensitivities) of certain readers, I noted that Jackson Browne’s career took a fairly downward turn in the mid-eighties and nineties.  A lot of people point to the anti-Reagan sentiment saturating much of his music of this era.  He is a very anti-war guy, and seems to have gotten pretty pissed when Reagan embroiled his regime in the whole Contra business (no, not Vampire Weekend).  Lives in the Balance of 1986 is his stand: ”Who are the ones that we call our friends?” Browne asks, answering his own question less than a second later, “These governments killing their own.”  Now, his points are likely valid.  But we all know how I feel about overtly political lyrics (or you would if you read what that links to).  I don’t know.  Perhaps all of my taste for songs like that evaporated upon seeing Fahrenheit 9/11 (really, no real hatred of the movie, just of overhype).  Or perhaps it really does come of as a bit preachy.  Whatever it is, this is the era of Jackson Browne that Randy Newman would be alluding to and ridiculing, and this is the era where people began to tune the guy out, so I’m not the only one.

Now, Jackson Browne didn’t just give up his political views.  Far from it, actually.  He released more albums.  He kept going to rallies.  He kept supporting the democratic left, singing for everyone from Farm Aid to MoveOn.  He released a cover of the song “I Am A Patriot” (written by the one of the ugliest men alive) and regularly performs it.  He actually recently sued the McCain campaign for using “Running on Empty” during an ad attacking Obama.  Jackson Browne probably still pissed.  Naturally, he did not approve of the George W. Bush’s war policies.  So what did he do?  Release an album?  You betcha.  But this time, he decided to stay out of the studio.  He hit the road, alone and without much fanfare.  And two amazing albums came of it: Solo Acoustic Volume 1 and Solo Acoustic Volume 2.

Jackson Browne comes alive on these discs.  He performs songs from all over his career, ranging from the biggest hits (”Somebody’s Baby,” though admittedly not his best version) to his most obscure (”Birds of St. Marks,” a beautiful, live-only track) to songs people don’t know are his (”Take It Easy,” co-written by Jackson Browne before The Eagles really existed), and he punctuates each track with easy banter with the audience.  You get to hear him talk about the guy (douche) that went to every show and requested “Tequila Sunrise,” and how he actually gave in to requests to hear “Peaceful Easy Feeling.”  ”I’m kinda drawn to do those songs that you call for that I might not have done for a while, but I, you know, don’t know if I’ll get through, but it’s more exciting for me that way,” he says on Volume 1, trying to explain away his mid-concert lapses in memory.  He jabs at the somewhat monotonous and consistent mood of his songs: “Now, I could sing you a really tender song filled with despair,” he says, then pauses slightly before continuing, “or a really weary song, laced with hope.”  He’s funny, endearing, and earnest.  On a clear set of speakers, you can hear the audience’s responses, yelling out songs, screaming and loving his choices.

But the music.  Oh, the music.  I attribute this album for my love of Jackson Browne.  Yes, I’d heard some of his music before.  But honestly, his songs are better now.  His voice, though giving in to the fatigue of years, is better for it.  ”I’m just one or two years and a couple of changes behind you/In my lesson that love’s pain and heartache school,” he sings in “Fountain of Sorrow,” and while I never doubt the man’s sincerity, he’s gained a few years and changes since 1974 when he wrote that, and he sings with that weight and knowledge.  His personal songs sound like they come from a man who knows better now, but simply can’t tear himself from the memories.  Even his more political songs, like the aforementioned “Lives in the Balance” gain new life and intensity in this live solo setting.The war?  His beliefs?  Yes, he does mention, “Chances are you’re as disappointed as I am about the outcome of the last US election,” but for the most part, they come through the attack of the keys, the gravel in his voice as he closes off a note and whimpers its echo.  His live show is notable and remarkable because sings his years into his songs, unlike others like (though I do love them both) Springsteen and Dylan who sing despite them.

The songs below reflect this the best (though I intentionally left off “Fountain of Sorrow” for Edward’s review).  ”Birds of St. Marks” is a song said to have been written about Nico of the Velvet Underground (or Joni Mitchell, depending on whom you ask), and it’s a stunningly beautiful piece of rock history that’s not been released on any other album.  But listen to him sing, “Wooden lady turn and turn/among my weary secrets,” and tell me that he’s just singing about Nico, or Joni, or any one person.  He sings about it all, in all his songs, and we listen.

Jackson Browne – Birds of St. Marks (YSI)

Jackson Browne – These Days (YSI)

Jackson Browne – The Pretender (YSI)

Jackson Browne – Take It Easy (YSI)

Jackson Browne – Something Fine (YSI)

Jackson Browne – Sky Blue and Black (YSI)