Jackson Browne – Standing in the Breach (ALBUM REVIEW)

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Jackson Browne’s previous two studio albums, The Naked Ride Home and Time the Conqueror, are earmarked as much by the sympathetic and authoritative accompaniment of the musicians as the literacy and passion of the compositions. Standing in the Breach follows suit in both respects, but also  elevates Browne’s well-established skills as a recording artist, collaborating in production with engineer Paul Dieter to render arrangements and capture musicianship both provocative and sensitive.

The words to the opening track, “The Birds of St Marks,” for instance, deliver its deceptively forceful impact through the somewhat dolorous sound of Browne’s voice in contrast with the luminous chime of twelve-string guitar. The refrain of “Yeah Yeah” carries multiple meanings as the alternating use of those two words–as affirmation and sarcasm–compels a sing-along by the time the track finishes. And it’s difficult, if not impossible, to avoid reading the lyrics while absorbing the gentle instrumentation gracing “The Long Way Around.” Browne places his topical observations in the context of his own passage through life and, in doing so, offers a knowing acceptance that still carries a wish for something(s) better, a complex blend of emotion and intellect mirrored by the finely-etched guitar playing of Val McCallum.

Recalling the second verse of the Eagles’ “Take It Easy,” which Jackson Browne co-authored with Glenn Frey, “Leaving Winslow” becomes a sly self-reference, but more importantly calls attention to his co-production of this album with  Dieter: the solemnity of the first few bars gives way to a lighthearted dance via fiddle. Similarly, on “If I Could Be Anywhere,” the chorus  effectively plays off its verses, while the bridge, with Browne’s voice so deeply echoed, turns its cultural commentary into a striking setup for a profession of unmistakable optimism (again compelling examination of the words to confirm those turns of phrase are indeed written as they’re sung). And the far-away sound of steady drumming that closes the track conjures a spacious air juxtaposed with the bell-like clarity of acoustic piano.

This shadowy conclusion offers counterpoint the bright intro to “You Know the Night,” the conversational tone of the lyrics matching the casual delivery of the vocal and, in turn, the upbeat air of Greg Leisz’ lap steel. On Carlos Verelas’ “Walls and Doors,” Browne’s translation of the Cuban songwriter’s Spanish words conforms to the contour of his melody, making  the author’s wordless end vocal a punctuation of the concluding sentiment: “Ever since the world’s existed…some build walls others open doors…” This indirect approach thus highlights the tone of “Which Side?,” initially off-putting but  ultimately encouraging, Jackson Browne refuses to personalize, preferring instead to simply lay out the pros and cons of any chose stance, his own resolute stance and its implicit activism,  leading directly to this title song, then into the concluding number, “Here.”

The finality of this last track couldn’t be more clear as it proceeds from the insistent tone of Browne’s voice to the world-weary realization carried by the lyrics. The conflicting passions become amplified through the prominence of piano and the descending chord changes of meshed guitars, an atmosphere of turmoil that turns even more pronounced with the brief appearance of Leisz’ lap steel, as its razor-edge plays off the vulnerability in the singing. It’s a masterful moment on a record replete with them.