Jackson Browne: Summoning a Sky Blue and Black

“Fred had come to me about ‘Lives in the Balance,’ and he said they’d written another verse…I was like, ‘OK, let me hear it…,’ because I wouldn’t have thought of them doing it. But they sang this verse with a point of view of people of faith questioning the war. I thought, ‘Great! This is a great thing to have happened to this song…’ because it’s one of the most difficult things for me to justify: If you believe in the teachings of Christ, how do you bomb anybody?

“[These girls] were just teenagers when they sang on ‘For Taking the Trouble,’ and they became my sisters on that record. But they give me a chance to write for their voices. Knowing I’ve got them to use, it’s been a great extension of my power as a songwriter.”

Indeed, on “Where Were You,” they are the shipwrecked less-thans, trying to figure out how to be safe, dry, and warm in a world where everything’s been swept away. And on the equally propulsive “Drums Of War,” they are almost bolts of righteousness hailing down as one’s sense of personal conviction and definition is challenged by the abuses of the nation’s core values.

“That was inspired by reading about these Bay Area drummers, who were against the war and wanted to put a band together. It was very groovy, but I had this idea that I wanted to put big loud drums on there… It works so much better. I’ll write a song by myself, and come back and play it for the band, then find out I don’t really wanna hear two verses before the chorus.

“My favorite bands all do that, whether it’s Little Feat or the Rolling Stones or U2. One of my early memories of Lowell George…he’d stop by my sessions. It was the end of one, and we’d just turned off ‘The Pretender,’ and I didn’t want to play him the vocal track because I wasn’t in great voice. The track was great, and he listened to it and said, ‘Put the vocal in…’

“He was like, ‘Really? Why is it doing what it’s doing?’ Musically, he didn’t understand why there were two verses before the chorus, then this B section… It was all right, but he couldn’t tell without the vocals.

“Jeff Porcaro was the drummer and [pianist] Craig Doerge…they’d got into this rhythm thing that was much more fun than the disciplined, staid way you had to play the song. Most of my bands have always started grooving when I’m through singing, and it required me to write a couple more phrases and change some words. My producer was like, ‘Well, you’re a writer, write some more stuff…’”

And with that Browne began moving towards a world where, “I decided I didn’t have to finish a song so I could go cut it.” With that freedom came songs that were more musically interesting, making optimal use of the band he’s had since 1993 and the young women he found in a Gospel choir. If it seems counter to the craftsmanship his songs imply, the benefits outweigh the fact that three days before the final deadline, Browne is moving between studios, pushing back interviews and juggling phone calls about causes, family matters and final decisions on his record.

Jackson Browne in some ways is exactly what you’d expect-well-versed in the environmental realities of Vegas, aware of writers like Gretel Ehrlich and Pam Houston, attentive to multiple musical cultures and soft-spokenly gracious. As the afternoon drags on, he apologizes and disappears, committed to realizing whatever is in these songs-rather than settling for what there is.

Even in the personal realm, songs like the jubilantly awkward stumble into love, “Just Say Yeah,” and the furtive seeking of  “The Arms of the Night”-there is exploration and revelation. “I think ambiguity is one of the great treasures I’ve come upon late in life.