Jackson Browne staked out a great reputation for himself during the 1970s as one of the elite poets of rock. His often introspective (some would say self-absorbed) songwriting propelled him to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2004. It’s one of the selections that I agree with wholeheartedly.
Released on June 24, 1980 as Browne’s first album of the new decade, Hold Out is considered one of his minor efforts. This long-awaited followup to 1977’s Running On Empty arrived during turning points in both the singer-songwriter’s personal life and his career.
Hold Out discussed his brand-new marriage (which unfortunately failed quickly) several years after the suicide of Jackson Browne’s first wife. It was also the last one with the same band he had used for most of his career. David Lindley, his main sideman, departed as a permanent member, although the two would remain great friends and continue to work together often throughout the years. He would retain his popularity with fans for a few more years but, to many in the critics circle, Hold Out began Jackson Browne’s artistic slide.
Browne’s last record of the LP era opened with “Disco Apocalypse,” a commentary of the times highlighted by a great solo featuring backup singer Rosemary Butler. This album’s “That Girl Could Sing” (No. 19 on Billboard) is a song about another woman Browne loved and lost, supposedly singer-songwriter Valerie Carter.
“Boulevard,” (No. 22) discussed the hedonistic lifestyles and the disillusionment of those who stroll along Hollywood Boulevard and its environs. The title track tells his lover to hold out for somebody new because he traded “love for glory.”
Side two opened with “Of Missing Persons” a thoughtful song written for musician Inara George. Later with the duo The Bird and the Bee, she’s the daughter of Lowell George, Brown’s good friend. The late Little Feat founder had recently died from the usual rock ‘n roll excesses.
“Call It a Loan,” co-written with Lindley, finds Browne wondering what it will cost both parties stuck in an affair who need each other desperately and can’t break away. He closed Hold Out with an eight-minute love song to his new dearly beloved. Unfortunately, the centerpiece of “Hold On, Hold Out” was an almost schmaltzy spoken passage in the middle that was very much not the kind of thing Jackson Browne normally put on vinyl.
Hold Out isn’t a classic, but it’s still a fine collection of tunes. Unfortunately, despite the fact that it reached No. 1 on the Billboard Top 200 charts and spawned two hit singles, the album receives very little attention today.
