Jackson Browne is simply spontaneous
By Rob Hubbard, Pioneer Press
Jackson Browne is simply spontaneous
By Rob Hubbard
Pioneer Press
October 13, 2003
Perhaps it was an idea inspired by the title of his latest album, "The Naked Ride Home." Or maybe he did it as a reaction to his recent stint opening arena rock shows for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. But, for whatever reason, Jackson Browne — in many respects the quintessential confessional singer-songwriter — has decided to get naked on his current tour.
The still youthful Browne is performing a series of solo acoustic dates, stripping his songs down to their lovely and often troubling essence. And he proved to an almost full State Theatre in Minneapolis on Sunday night that it's an ideal canvas for his songcraft, sometimes improving on the originals by removing some of the pop-flavored instrumentation that can obscure their emotional power.
And Sunday night's performance was often very powerful, especially when Browne accompanied himself on piano. While some songwriters expose their shortcomings as players when they go the unplugged route, Browne raised eyebrows with the full arrangements he played on his electric keyboard and the layered picking he plied on any of the 12 guitars that shared the stage with him.
He performed 22 songs from throughout his three-decade career, although half of them were from the '70s, arguably his best era as a songwriter. That's when he emerged as a young troubadour with wisdom beyond his years, repeatedly leaning on loss for inspiration, a mind-set that found many a kindred listener during the Vietnam era.
And some of those sad songs of yore were among the standouts Sunday. "For a Dancer" was delivered in all of its sad, wide-eyed wonder, while "The Pretender" brought Browne back to his darkest moments. But there's little of the cynic in this troubadour, even as he confronts many of the same political quandaries that plagued his country way back when. Instead, he stands by his political songs of the '80s, like "Lives in the Balance" and "I Am a Patriot," which sounded something like a one-man hootenanny with its straightforward folk form.
But Browne's landscape of choice is internal, and Sunday's most memorable moments came when he eschewed elaborate arrangements in favor of quiet, hypnotic renditions. "In the Shape of a Heart," while always disarming in its honesty, has never been as melancholy and discomfiting as in this solo setting, while "Sky Blue and Black" stood out as a deeply emotional offer of help to a troubled loved one.
Yes, Browne's voice showed some wear and tear as the evening progressed. And he may have erred in saying early on that he was playing without a set list, bringing on a deluge of shouted requests throughout the evening. But the evident spontaneity worked when he could follow whims like performing Warren Zevon's "Carmelita" or dedicating "Looking East" to Paul Wellstone.
Taking requests even during the encore, it made for some refreshing interaction between artist and audience, and showed that this solo setting is ideal for this emotionally open artist.