I cannot say enough about the importance of this album. The lowest point in Jackson Browne's life (his wife's suicide) produced the most harrowing and effectual songs of his carrer. 'The Pretender' and 'Here Come Those Tears Again' are the most striking songs about love, life and everything in-between. From the first moments of this album (The Fuse) to the final fading of 'The Pretender', the only thing you want from this album is more of it. As an 'only child', I can hear my father speaking to me through the magic of this song. The heartbreak, remorse and heartfelt passion in 'Daddy's Tune' and 'Sleeps Dark and Silent Gate' justly prepare you for the anthem title track. Jackson Browne's vocals, guitar and piano accompaniment blend so beautifully on this album that you long for more of the creative talent that produced this classic. It is such a leap from 'Late for the Sky' and such a more cohesive album than 'Running on Empty.'

Unquestionably his finest effort.

The Pretender is the best of Jackson Browne's recordings which is similar to saying that Hamlet is the best of Shakespeare's work. And the comparison to Shakespeare is not accidental. JB has long been known as a master of the lyric and has always managed to put together musicians and vocalists that complement his own considerable talent. Lowell George and Bonnie Raitt appear on this record and their contributions shine brightly as against the background of what they were to become.

The Pretender, as a song, is widely recognized as a masterpiece and that is enough said about that tune. Your Bright Baby Blues, Here Come Those Tears Again, Daddy's Tune, and Sleep's Dark and Silent Gate are in the same category of masterworks, but less widely heard.

At first and even tenth listening, Linda Paloma does not seem to fit with the rest of the album, but after years of reflection I have concluded that there is no other place in the work of Jackson Browne that the song would fit. And fit it does! I have owned three lp's of The Pretender, each having been repaced with a new record as the ravages of time took its toll on the vinyl. My one and only copy of the CD has, of course, resisted wear and tear and remains pristine. Nonetheless, the old records get played once in a while as less than perfect sound was the norm when The Pretender was first heard and a less than perfect world is the subject of the record.

If I were to be required to choose only five record to take with me to a desert island this would be first on my list and I'd take two copies just in case a hurricane were to take one out to sea.

The Pretender is a melancholy record. It conveys what was and what could have been but will never be. It offers an insight into a soul and heart that has sufferred much, has made mistakes,has come to understand some of the mysteries of life and that we know, from later works, has made good use of the lessons of life that were learned the hard way.

While the material is sad, the performances are full of ! life --indeed joy-- for the listener at least.

Jackson Browne left no doubt about his songwriting genius with 1974's "Late For The Sky", an artistic triumph in the truest sense of the word, and also a solid commercial breakthrough. However, by the time Jackson started to record his follow-up album, 1976's "The Pretender", things had changed drastically for for him with the suicide of his first wife with whom he'd had a son. This tragedy seems to have dramatically impacted his music, because, although Jackson's vocal phrasing and melodic style are carried over from "Late For The Sky", "The Pretender" is a big change from its predecessor. Without a doubt, a big part of this change is due to Jon Landau who produced the album. Known for his work with Bruce Springsteen, and having produced his "Born To Run" album from the previous year, Landau may on the surface seem like an unlikely guy to have teamed up with Jackson, but it actually proved a unique match. Browne's voice sounds a lot different here on many of the songs, much tougher and more 'from the gut' than it had sounded before. The album is also much slicker and punchier than any of his previous albums, and opposed to the 5 piece combo used for "Late For The Sky", this one features a load of legendary session musicians including Jeff Porcaro, Leland Sklar, Chuck Rainey, Jim Gordon, and Fred Tackett, as well as appearances from Lowell George, Don Henley, J.D Souther, Bonnie Raitt, John Hall (of Orleans), plus JB regulars David Lindley, Russ Kunkel, and Craig Doerge; aside from vocals, Jackson's only performance credit on the entire album is the acoustic guitar on "Your Bright Baby Blues"--some will try to tell you that Jackson was trying to make a "contemporary pop-rock record", but don't let that give you the wrong idea; this is far from a sell-out. Jackson, hurting from the devastating loss of his wife, sounds like he's desperately seeking redemption on here, and in turn, the album is a step away from the wistfulness that was at the core of "Late For The Sky", even on songs like the eulogy "For A Dancer". Reportedly, the material here was mostly written prior to suicide of Phyllis, but it sure doesn't sound that way--from the opening moments of "The Fuse", you can tell this isn't going to be a repeat of "Late For The Sky". "The Fuse" is marvelously powerful, containing masterful use of dynamics, as well as Jackson layering his own voice several times, something he rarely did, and doing so to great effect. The yearning, expansive epic "Your Bright Baby Blues" is absolutely brilliant as well with a marvelous Jackson vocal. The mid-tempo pop-rocker "Here Come Those Tears Again" was the obvious choice for a single, and it's a cathartic, flawlessly melodic song with a phenomenal Jackson vocal, and it's the only track here that isn't a Jackson Browne solo composition. "The Only Child" is a wonderfully bittersweet song--indeed, it's the one track here that really sounds like it could have been on "Late For The Sky". The atypically short, orchestrated ballad "Sleep's Dark and Silent Gate" is weepy, but still works pretty well. However, a couple of tracks add a diversity to the proceedings that unfortunately doesn't come off well--"Linda Paloma", with its Mexican-style arrangement, is really corny with ultra-lame background vocals near the end; and the bouncy horn-laden section of "Daddy's Tune" feels awkward and badly out of place. Still though, this is a fascinating album that also very much points the way to the future for Jackson. I see "The Pretender" as the beginning of a trilogy that also includes 1977's "Running On Empty" and 1980's "Hold Out"--each album is a piece of an ongoing journey, like chapters in a book, so to speak. "The Pretender" isn't one of Jackson's very best albums, but it's still unquestionably a must for all of his fans.

Jackson Browne followed up the two best albums of his career ("For Everyman" and "Late for the Sky") with an album that suffers only by comparison. "The Pretender" is a strong effort, the best cuts of which ("Here Come Those Tears Again," "The Fuse" and "The Only Child") rank with his best work. Like the previous two albums, this one ends with a lengthy signature song in the title track the lyrics of which seem to define the then soon-to-come yuppie generation. It's a good song, but doesn't have the gravity of the standout "For Everyman" and "After the Deluge" that end the previous two albums. The album's one clinker is "Linda Paoloma," which attempts to incorporate latin influences into Browne's sound with less than successful results.

Overall, "The Pretender" is still among the best of Jackson Browne's original albums, recorded at a time when his was still one of the biggest names in rock music.

I owned this album on vinyl back in the day and it's as good as I remember it. Though not as good as his other recordings of the period (Late for the Sky, Running on Empty), it puts to shame any of his albums that came after Running on Empty.

For those who know the songs well, beware "The Fuse" on the MP3 download. Though not enough to drop the rating of the recording, the track starts mid-note which is a little jarring when you are used to hearing the song start truly at the beginning.