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Jackson Browne: The Naked Ride Home

Johnny Black, MOJO, November 2002

WHILE MOST of his coked-out Californian contemporaries were mapping every last detail of the geography of their navels, endlessly rhyming "illusion" with "confusion" for consumption by hordes of stoned early '70s bedsitters, Jackson Browne carried the flag for shameless romantics everywhere. No matter how bad things got in a Jackson Browne song, there was always a nugget of optimism before the final chord.

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