Personnel includes: Jackson Browne (vocals, acoustic guitar); Fred Tackett (acoustic & electric guitars); Luis F. Damian (guitar, vijuella, background vocals); Waddy Wachtel (guitar); Roberto Gutierrez (guitaron, violin, background vocals); Arthur Gerst (harp, background vocals); Chuck Finley, Dick Hyde, Quitman Dennit (horns); Roy Bittan, Craig Doerge (piano); Mike Utley (organ); Bob Glaub, Chuck Rainey, Leland Sklar (bass); Russell Kunkel, Jeff Porcaro (drums); Gary Coleman (percussion); Rosemary Butler, Jon Landau (background vocals); Albert Lee, Jim Horn, Billy Payne, John David Souther.

Recorded at Sunset Sound, Hollywood, California. Includes a poem by Pablo Neruda.

Personnel: Jackson Browne (vocals, guitar, acoustic guitar, piano, keyboards); Lowell George (vocals, guitar, slide guitar); Roberto Gutierrez (vocals, guitar, guitarron, violin, background vocals); Luis Damian (vocals, guitar, background vocals); David Crosby, Don Henley, Graham Nash, J.D. Souther, Jon Landau, Rosemary Butler, Bonnie Raitt (vocals); Fred Tackett (guitar, acoustic guitar, electric guitar); Albert Lee (guitar, electric guitar); David Lindley (guitar, slide guitar, steel guitar, lap steel guitar, violin, fiddle); John Hall (guitar); Arthur Gerst (harp, background vocals); David Campbell (viola); John Haeny (recorder); Chuck Findley, Richard Hyde, David Hyde, Jim Horn, Chuck Finley, Quitman Dennis (horns); Bill Payne (piano, organ, keyboards); Craig Doerge (piano, keyboards); Roy Bittan (piano); Mike Utley (organ, keyboards); Jim Gordon (organ, drums); Jeff Porcaro, Russ Kunkel (drums); Gary Coleman (percussion).

Audio Mixers: Greg Ladanyi; Val Garay.

Recording information: Sunset sound (1976); Sunset Sound Factory, Los Angeles, CA (1976).

Photographers: Howard Burke; Jackson Browne.

Unknown Contributor Roles: Arthur Gerst; Luis Damian.

Arrangers: David Campbell ; Arthur Gerst; Jim Horn.

On The Pretender, Jackson Browne took a step back from the precipice so well defined on his first three albums, but doing so didn't seem to make him feel any better. Employing a real producer, Jon Landau, for the first time, Browne made what sounded like a real contemporary rock record, but this made his songs less effective; the ersatz Mexican arrangement of "Linda Paloma" and the bouncy second half of "Daddy's Tune," with its horn charts and guitar solo, undercut the lyrics. The man who had delved so deeply into life's abyss on his earlier albums was in search of escape this time around, whether by crying ("Here Come Those Tears Again"), sleeping ("Sleep's Dark and Silent Gate"), or making peace with estranged love ones ("The Only Child," "Daddy's Tune"). None of it worked, however, and when Browne came to the final track -- traditionally the place on his albums where he summed up his current philosophical stance -- he delivered "The Pretender," a cynical, sarcastic treatise on moneygrubbing and the shallow life of the suburbs. Primarily inner-directed, the song's defeatist tone demands rejection, but it is also a quintessential statement of its time, the post-Watergate '70s; dire as that might be, you had to admire that kind of honesty, even as it made you wince. ~ William Ruhlmann

Jackson Browne was one of the leading singer/songwriters of the '70s, and THE PRETENDER, his fourth album, under the supervision of Bruce Springsteen's producer, Jon Landau, remains his definitive '70s record. Part of the cadre of L.A. musicians that included the Eagles, Crosby, Stills & Nash, Joni Mitchell and Linda Ronstadt, Browne stood out as the spokesman for baby boomer angst. This low-key rocker sings in a plaintive tone, concentrating more on lyrics than melody. But his music is complicated and off the beaten-path of standard folk-rock songwriting, sometimes sounding like the soulful Van Morrison, especially on "Your Bright Baby Blues."

The title track is a scornful indictment of middle-class America, while "Linda Paloma," led by a Latin beat and harp, is a dreamy South-Of-The-Border love song. Many tracks are just plain confessional and primal. "Daddy's Tune" deals with issues regarding his father ("...make room for my 45's along beside your 78's...nothing survives, but the way we live our lives...") and is a wonderful companion to "The Only Child," a love song to his child.

Lost love is a common theme, and the nostalgic "Sleep's Dark And Silent Gate" ("...I don't know what love has to do with happiness...") is yet another deep reflection into his soul. Musically, "Here Come Those Tears Again" is one of the most accessible and well-rounded songs on the album, and this time the lost lover wants to come back. The opening cut, "The Fuse," sums up his quest for salvation from his existential dilemmas.