“The solutions lie in our individual choices, the way we
live our lives, and what we decide to do in the world. But I think that corresponds to each person’s own understanding. I’m not trying to just write another broadside or polemic. I’m just trying to refer to these things that everybody’s going through, and to refer to them in a way that show that at the heart of it is the idea that I’m glad to be alive now when these problems need to be solved. I’m glad to be here now when I’m needed and when we’re all needed. I’m glad to be engaged with these problems and not living through some escapist idea of wishing I lived a thousand years ago or at some point in the future.” “So yeah, if I could be anywhere I’d want to be right here.” “There are some things I don’t want to do,” he says flatly of his approach to songwriting. “I don’t want to preach to or harangue people. I want to catch their interest. The song Standing in the Breach is me really writing about an earthquake, and then right away it turns into a song about poverty and endemic inequity. But I’m not really trying to write a rock essay with these things. I want to write a good song.” “So I wanted to make reference to the earthquake in Haiti, a country that started out as a colony that threw off the yoke of slavery. They became a country by accepting a debt, and they still owe that debt. What’s really going on in that country is the perpetuation of the inequities that gave rise to slavery in the first place. The song tries to refer to that in a way that I hope leads the listener to take that into consideration, because the more we wake up, the more we’re still in a dream.” “I want to write songs that are thoughtful and consider the problems that we face. I’m not trying to have a song offer the solutions.” - See more at: http://www.rockcellarmagazine.com/2014/10/07/jackson- browne-standing-in-the-breach-the- interview/#sthash.UvStk8ER.dpuf “That’s a song that I love because I met him in Cuba, and we became good friends, and there’s a whole political context that song takes place in. I wrote the English version and I think it speaks very strongly to people in the United States. There can be freedom only when nobody owns it, but we do act like we own it. We do act like we’ve got to dispense our freedom, like it’s a product that we manufacture and we’re going to make it available to the people of Afghanistan.” “The reality is a little bit tougher, and a little bit harder to take. The problem lies in our proprietary attitude toward it, like it’s something that we invented.” “But we didn’t invent it, and we often don’t even practice it. So there’s a lot of political context behind some of these songs. I don’t really know any way of making the songs contain all of that political information, but maybe they will move people to find out more about what I’m writing about, or even to spend some more time thinking about it. Ultimately that would be great, but I’m not trying to write a polemic.” Browne also completed a lyric by Woody Guthrie, given to him by the late folk legend’s daughter Nora. It was easier, Browne confides, because he’s constantly changing lyrics, writing and re-writing until the 11th hour. “I’m always arguing with myself about certain things in each song,” he says about his peerless lyric abilities. “I’ll change things around or try other things. I do that during recording a lot of the time. Sometimes on the record there are older versions of the lyrics that are just slightly different than what I might do live as the song develops. I’ve realized that a lot of the time when a song first gets recorded, it’s almost like the last installment in writing the song.” “Then you go out on the road and there’s something that happens, beyond that. So even though I’ve recorded the song that doesn’t mean that’s the only way of playing it. On this record, the songs got written and they evolved as they got tracked, because it was also about getting the recordings to reflect the meaning. A lot of that meaning is really in the way the songs are played. The Woody Guthrie song, for instance. There’s a lot of political stuff in there that’s really beneath the surface and I don’t know how to bring it out, but we do in the performance, I think.” It’s no wonder that Browne is able to capture such intimacy and depth in his recordings. He was one of the first artists to insist on producing his own material, and on his debut album. How did he know that was so important? “I wasn’t conscious of that when I started making records,” Browne confesses. “I guess the first sessions I ever attended were sessions where they were recording my songs. At the very first one, they were trying to cut three songs in three hours. I could see that these guys were an incredible team.” “Don Randi was a piano player on this gig. At one point I was trying to tell the drummer to adjust something that he was playing. Don Randi said, ‘Come over here, kid. Come sit down next to me.’ There was a way that people in the studios did these arrangements. I realized that any one guy could make the thing really come alive. The next sessions I went to, Jim Keltner was the drummer. So Keltner was playing on one of my songs that Jerry Rivers was recording, and he was like, ‘You wrote this song? No kidding? It’s cool!’ So he was very friendly.” “But Jim’s always been that way. Not just to me. I’ve seen him do it with lots of other people. He’s a special player. He’s sort of like Yoda in the studio. The first session I did with Jim Keltner on one of my songs was These Days. He had taught drums in the same music store that David Lindley taught banjo in Pasadena. They were old friends. David Lindley had not only played on that second album, we’d already been on the road for a year together. I decided not to bring a band out on that tour, because everybody I tried was not really up to the level of David.” Photo: Nels Israelson “So we just went out, the two of us. When it came time to make a record, we knew we had to add something complementary to what we were already doing. That’s my way into songs and producing, knowing that, under certain conditions, things can happen when you get the right people together. When he played, he played lap steel on These Days. The original track sounds like an organ. He’s just playing these pads on lap steel. For the solo, we first mic’ed the neck of the lap steel and put him in an iso booth away from the amp. I thought I’d be getting more of the acoustic sound. It was a National lap steel, so there wasn’t much going on, but you ended up hearing a lot of extra stuff.” “He only did one pass, but it was incredibly solid and at the end it was a very kind of triumphant moment. Then I knew what I wanted, but very often you don’t know what you want. But really my becoming a producer had more to do with me not wanting to produce. I wanted to find it myself, because I’d been around sessions where there was somebody just trying to influence things. I kept telling my manager that I was afraid of guys coming in to supplant my ideas and emotional truths with ones of their own. I didn’t want to be a passenger!” “So that’s how that happened.” ‘The songwriter was sort of ascendant in those days,” Browne continues. “Maybe it’s been that way for a long time, but at the time it was a new deal. It was a new sort of way of going about things. A lot of people were singing, but if they’d written the song they had the mandate to sing the song. That carried over to how you wanted to treat it, how you wanted it done. But as a producer I also like stuff to just happen. I have definite preferences, but I also want things to just happen. And I’ll rule out certain things. I have a keyboardist who’s a really great pianist, but I might not want that on the record.” “I sometimes prefer the simplicity of the way I play something maybe, even though the guy is the most soaring and beautiful organ player. And sometimes I don’t know until I hear it.”