Customer Reviews

Hold Out

5 star:		(10)
4 star:		(5)
3 star:		(7)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

These words, spoken from choked breath to climax "Hold On Hold Out," seemed strangely satisfying, if plain, from Jackson Browne. His album-long searches for self within personal and social tragedy epitomised the Californicated musical center of the "Me Decade." In 1980's "Hold Out," whose dedication read "This is for Lynne" (Sweeney, Browne's love interest at the time), it was a moment of shared, truthful joy in a career filled with some of rock's most confrontational, confessional elegies.

"Hold Out" is unjustly criticized among Browne fans despite being his lone #1 album. Its seven soaring, expansive tracks celebrate resilience and reassurance, rocking as hard as anything Browne did up to then.

"Oh can we say that I've grown/in some way that we may have yet to be shown?" asks Browne in "Call It A Loan." You hear new, empathetic sensibility prefacing his explicit 80s protest music. This tranisition led critic Dave Marsh to refer to Browne having "Bob Dylan's career inside out."

Browne commits small details to memory here, making peace even at "Hold Out"'s most wistful. He concedes that "she couldn't have been any kinder/if she'd come back and tried to explain" in the savory "That Girl Could Sing." He consoles the then-recently deceased Lowell George's daughter in "Of Missing Persons," wishing, over George's Little Feat bandmate Bill Payne's organ, "May you always see what your life is worth."

In the misunderstood opener "Disco Apocolypse," featuring Payne's roller-rink-style organ, Browne sees survivor's strength in those escaping into disco's strobes. "When the world starts turnin'...and the dreams are burnin'," he sings, "...through the wind and fire they will be dancing still." Unlike The Who's snide "Sister Disco," it features some of the most powerful lyrics written about the disco era without being disco musically. These disco denizens, dresses and shoes new with hearts weary through and through, are the same armored cynics walking "right by like they were safe or something" in "Boulevard."

Crisper than his 1970s studio releases (engineer Niko Bolas later worked with Neil Young, Melissa Etheridge and Billy Joel), "Hold Out" draws its wide-open sound from 1977's live million-selling predecessor, "Running On Empty." It features longtime Browne collaborator David Lindley's evocative solos on "That Girl" and "Hold On, Hold Out" and wailing background vocals throughout from Doug Haywood and Rosemary Butler.

The new decade granted Jackson Browne hit singles, Hollywood romances, social activism and stinging personal rebuke from former friend and collaborator Joni Mitchell. But his greatest 1980s success came in that decade's first year with "Hold Out," a recommended set opening and closing an era for Browne and his singer-songwriter genre.

Jackson Browne's "Hold Out" is not a terrible album. Unfortunately, it gets compared to his 1970s masterpieces like "For Everyman," "Late for the Sky" and "Running on Empty," next to which it does, indeed, pale by comparison. That said, there are some good songs here, particularly "That Girl Could Sing" and "Boulevard." The eight minute cut "Hold On Hold Out" that ends the record is also strong. The rest, including the dated "Disco Apocalypse," are decent filler material, though at 7 songs and a just over a half hour running time, the whole project feels slight compared to Browne's best work.

Overall, I would recommend "Hold Out" for ardent Browne fans and direct causal listeners to his earlier 1970s triumphs instead.

If it is as true, as is often said, that great artists find their inspiration in life's trials and tribulations, then that sure helps explain the consistent artistic focus on love and relationships for singer and songwriter Jackson Browne for a twenty year plus period stretching from the late 1960s well into the 1990s. This effort to describe his frustration with the contemporary dating scene in the early 1980s painfully reflects his angst and inchoate feelings in attempting to reach out to touch his lover both emotionally and intellectually. Describing himself as a "holdout", meaning someone who refuses to "settle" for someone not meeting what they believe are the essential qualities for a love interest, he then details the consequent comedy of pain and suffering that ensues as he waits for the perfect person, who of course, he realizes may not actually exist.

As usual, Browne's fervently fertile mind dwells on the interior landscape of his own wounded psyche, and he uses his own palpable heartache to deliver a song cycle overflowing with blue-eyed California soul. The result is an album dripping with feeling, and yet one also characterized with an exciting level of exuberant electrical music. His lyrics are telling, as when he admits his own foolishness in allowing his preconceptions to rule his heart. Yet in the face of all this intellectual preciousness is some honest angst and pain, and one can hardly listen to songs like "Call It A Loan' to understand the powerful consequences of emotional miscues and misunderstandings two people trying to connect can fall prey to. So, too, in "Hold On, Hold Out", you find yourself rooting for a guy who finds he has to resort to actually telling his love interest how he feels about her.

And the sad truth is that by the end of the song cycle we understand why he is so cautious and constrained; perhaps, we come to understand, under the constricted emotional circumstances one finds in contemporary cultural interaction, this is the best that can be hoped for. This is a terrific concept album, one that painfully, faithfully and artfully essays the emotional realities of a attempting to have a meaningful romantic relationship, and one that gives us a rare view into the interior of life in the emotional fast lane. All of the songs here are good, but some are absolutely wonderful. I especially like "That Girl Could Sing", "On The Boulevard", and "Call It A Loan". As always, Browne's use of lyrics is so masterful that one reels at the power of description and expression he brings to bear on the subject of love gone awry. So let me close here by giving a high recommendation for this album for any and all Jackson Browne fans. Enjoy.

The brief, one line review below really does sum it up in a nutshell--this is a profoundly beautiful masterpiece by Jackson Browne, & as it appears, startlingly underrated AND sadly misunderstood as well (even though it was his lone album to ever top the US Billboard album chart). I'm absolutely stumped as to what makes this album a disappointment in any fan's mind--Browne hadn't lost a drop of his eloquent genius (musical or lyrical), & on this album, "Hold Out", originally released in June of 1980, his brilliance is on full display. Browne never rushes through anything here, giving the songs time to really sink in for maximum impact. It starts off with the grooving "Disco Apocalypse", which features a simple, yet menacing keyboard intro before Browne's punchy vocal delivery grabs you--it creates a feeling of people desparately wanting to break out of the cobwebs of their unsatisfying lives, & it's an ideal album opener. As hard-hitting as the track is, & despite the fact that its chorus is in the first person, it feels like an example of Browne as a seer, whereas most of the rest of the album is intensely personal AS WELL AS emotionally intense. The album's undercurrent "hold out" theme really hits hard, with all-around gorgeous songs like the expansive title track & "Call It A Loan" (with its wonderful guitar phrase--guitarist David Lindley co-wrote the track). You can't praise Browne's craft enough--the lyrics are poetic & deeply affecting, & he finds focused, irresistible & memorable melodies (often quite similar to each other, yet never interchangeable with each other) that are the perfect fit & enhance the words, then wraps his wonderful, compulsively listenable vocals (which are way up in the mix) around it all. Speaking of Jackson's vocals... Listening closely on a couple of the songs, you can tell the tape was cut as if two different takes/ vocal takes were spliced together--it's VERY subtle, but a sharp listener catch this--and additionally, even though there's nothing wrong at all with his vocals of the original album version of "Call It A Loan", on the version of this song that was included on the compilation "The Next Voice You Hear", Browne went so far as to do an incredibly meticulous splicing of newly-resung parts with the original album's vocals--it has to be heard to be believed. My point with all of this is that CLEARLY Jackson Browne obsesses hugely over his vocals--it wouldn't surprise me if he frequently does numerous takes of individual lines to get each one exactly to his satisfaction, but that doesn't take away from the fact that his vocals are terrific & full of feeling. It's remarkable how much I've read how Browne's voice was just OK/ serviceable, but nothing great. I couldn't agree less--his voice is the perfect instrument for the material. Heck, the guy even puts to use a solid falsetto (most prominently on "Disco Apocalypse"). Browne makes each song on this album dramatic & powerful (and often very sad--he sounds like he's barely holding back tears on a couple songs), but, in typical fashion, he's supremely tasteful & never resorts to bombast. Give credit to Browne & Greg Ladanyi who produced the album, as well as the players for the terrific musical performances on the album (including keyboards from Bill Payne & drumming from Russ Kunkel). The ballad "Of Missing Persons", a eulogy directed to Lowell George's daughter (Jackson's goddaughter), is so mesmerizing, bittersweet, & deeply moving it's almost unbelievable--to put it a certain way, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't heard it myself. The uptempo, reflective "pop"-rocker "That Girl Could Sing" (one of his "enigmatic girl" songs, apparently written about Valerie Carter) & the riffy, irresistably rocking street life-themed "Boulevard" are just as great as all the aforementioned tracks. Then there's the album closing "Hold On Hold Out", which is absolutely an ingeniously crafted, uplifting, uptempo track encouraging us that we must never give in & settle for anything less than the ideal lover, because if we don't, it will harm us even more deeply than being alone (in other words, it's an ode to "hold outs" everywhere)--you really have to examine the lyrics on this one--again, it's almost unbelievable how brilliant & fully-realized they are. The track has a great piano theme (played by Craig Doerge who co-wrote the track), excellent use of dynamics, works its way through each section masterfully, & features Browne reeling off one brilliant, bracingly powerful line after another. I can easily understand how you might cringe at the end when, after gripping tension, Browne in spoken word finally comes out & says "I love you" to someone, followed by a big a drum crash & a big finish with wailing vocals. Without getting too passionate over it, I'll just say this--I think it works--he really managed to bring this incredibly epic track to a rousing, emphatic conclusion. In the end, I honestly think this is a flawless album--it rocks, it moves you (in more ways than one), it puts you in an introspective mood... Browne never loses me at any point over the course of these songs. It's almost beyond all belief how well he puts his feelings/ perceptions into words on this album. It's a record that after many listens, continues to yield its rich rewards, feels so complete (always a sign of a truly great album), and is pure therapy. This album really clicks in a big way, & I can't help but feel certain listeners have certain preconceptions about this album & simply aren't giving it a fair chance--it's hard to comprehend anyone with even half a heart denying this album. It's an absolute must have, not just for any fan, but for any serious listener--this album represents a stunningly intelligent "singer-songwriter" at his very best. Jackson Browne is simply one of the best artists in history, & "Hold Out" is one of the best albums ever made.

I encountered Jackson Browne for the first time when, as a teenager, I listened to the weekly "American Top 40" on a radio station in Hong Kong. The song was "Call it a loan" and I thought: that's different. I got that record and I loved it. I particularly liked the last 3 numbers: "Of missing persons", "Call it a loan" and "hold on hold out".

Then I bought all his earlier records. Jackson Browne's songs were my best companions during my university years. Often, I listened to them during the small hours of the night in my dorm room.

"Hold Out" means something special to me, but I have to admit that all his earlier works were much better. And Jackson Browne of the 80s was nowhere near the Jackson Browne of the 70s.

In 1980, Disco was dying, old 70's music was eating up the airwaves and I was bored with the whole mess. Then the disbanded Eagles started debuts all over the place. Don Felder, Don Henley, Glenn Frye, Joe Walsh, and Jackson Browne all had an album out there around the same time. Felder and Walsh went the hard, heavy route,(Heavy Metal, The Confessor)but Jackson Browne stayed kind of neutral. I think this album was not a best effort but I also think it was instrumental in the shaping of things to come. A distorted guitar in a not so heavy, hard rocking kind of way. The Little River Band song Night Owls and all of the 38 Special music had the same mechanics as the Hold Out album. Somewhere though, this type of music fell by the wayside and New Wave took the radio on another tangent. Hold Out was/is a viable piece of rock history. Check Boulevard and That Girl Could Sing, my 2 favorites on this CD.

Having been a Jackson Browne fan for many years, I've always looked forward to each new release with great eagerness. "Hold Out," the long awaited follow - up to Browne's classic "Running On Empty," is, upon the first few listens, somewhat disappointing. As I have mentioned in other reviews of Jackson Browne's music, he set an abnormally high standard for himself right out of the gate with his amazing debut album. There have been times when he actually surpassed that standard and also times when he did not. This album falls into the latter category.

Having said that, "Hold Out" is not completely without merit. Of the seven tracks on this offering, there are five, in my opinion, that can be listened to in succession, without feeling you've been let down whatsoever. Quite the contrary, in fact - there are some excellent songs on this recording

Track number one, "Disco Apocalypse," is , well, just plain bad. I've tried to figure out what Browne's motive was when penning this tune, and I have come up empty. Likewise, the final cut, "Hold On, Hold Out," a song that seems to go on forever, is Jackson's attempt at.....well, you figure it out, if you decide to listen to it.

So, here's the deal: Program your CD player to nix tracks one and seven, and listen to numbers 2 through 6. The title cut is a great example of why Browne is considered one of the most gifted lyricists of his time. He sings passionately of regret over a broken relationship - "Not much you can do, wish that I'd been true. Darling, so do I." Lyrically, this song is nearly as strong as "Late For The Sky." "Call It A Loan" is a song that may very well tell the story of the same two persons as "Hold Out" - "Oh, if I'd only known what your heart cost. Oh, can we call it a loan, or a debt that I owe on a bet that I lost."

"That Girl Could Sing" is a decent song, with strong vocals, interesting lyrics, and an upbeat melody. "Boulevard" is a solid rocker on which Browne, in broad strokes, gives us his take on life on the streets - "Everybody walks right by like they're safe or somethin'. Nobody knows you. Nobody owes you nuthin'". Overall, a jaunty tune with some meaning thrown in.

The highlight is "Of Missing Persons," a moving tribute to Browne's friend, the late Lowell George, which is sung to George's daughter as a reminder of the influence her father had on the singer - "Rockin' slow in Houston, speechless in D.C., there's no way I could tell you what he meant to me." The song is both a mournful tribute and a celebration of life. It is also Browne at his emotional best.

So, three stars for the entire package, but if you listen only to the middle five tracks, it may rate another star. And - this is the only way to hear "Hold Out" and "Of Missing Persons." While "Call It A Loan" is included on the "Best Of" disc, these two are not. If nothing else, Jackson Browne aficionados should have these tunes in their collection.

Very under rated album -- he is really hitting his stride here. It starts out with Disco Apocalypse (good but not great), but the rest of the album is the best and most consistent set of songs of his career. Hold Out, That Girl Could Sing, Boulevard, Of Missing Persons, Call It A Loan and Hold On, Hold Out (which is his best song of all time -- still gives me chills) are all awesome!

There are three bona fide masterpieces on this album--"Of Missing Persons", "Call it a Loan" and "That Girl Could Sing". But for the first time in JB's career there are duds as well. "Disco Apocalypse" was as petulant back then as it is dated today. "Boulevard" is ersatz Springsteen, something Jackson just doesn't do well, and "Hold On Hold Out" just stinks, especially when you compare it to other extended epics like "For Everyman", "The Pretender", "Sky Blue and Black" and "Before the Deluge".

As a fan of Jackson's for more than a quarter-century, who has seen him live dozens of times and cherished his recordings, I have to say that this album is. . .not among his best.

Jackson Browne was brave enough to admit he liked the disco sound of the 70's,along with the late,great,John Lennon."Disco Apocalypse"closed out the era from this rock legend.All of the cuts are great(,"Hold Out,Boulevard," and "ThaT GIRL could sing")but a short record,but one of my favorites.