The Pretender

Sensing that the early-‘70s singer/songwriter era was giving way to literate rock ‘n’ roll, Jackson Browne ramped up his backing band. He comes close to mainstream rock with the driving urgency of this album’s opening track, “The Fuse,” and in the sad refrains of “Here Comes Those Tears Again.” The title track was the most cynical he’d ever let himself be, pausing to consider “paint-by-number dreams,” whereas the old Jackson would’ve insisted on soul-shaking transcendence. But his wife’s suicide cast a long shadow on his spirit. The pain found in the songs for his son (“The Only Child” and “Daddy’s Tune”) and the one directed at his loss (“Sleep’s Dark and Silent Gate”) are heartwrenching and impossible to ignore. There’s an ephemeral hope to the faux-Spanish restaurant-band buzz of “Linda Paloma” until one sinks deeper into the lyrics. In the end, it’s Browne’s beautifully scripted lines and his unusual sense of balance in the face of so many overwhelming emotions that make The Pretender a passionate and singular statement.