People gravitate to many types of songs for various reasons. Some contain personal messages, triggering sense memories. Others dig into our ears, like earthworms, even when we try to ignore them. I’m convinced the public doesn’t yearn for yet another analysis of “Like a Rolling Stone” or “Born to Run.” This series of contemplations isn’t intended to state the obvious. I’m here to highlight overlooked gems buried beneath overplayed commercial faves. I figure, if I’m struck by a chord, lyric, or emotion, others might be too. We owe it to the composers, who toiled long and hard, to float their works into the stream of our collective consciousness.
To kick off this series, I’ve chosen a relatively recent tune by Jackson Browne. He’s one of the few LA-associated acts, emblematic of the West Coast sound, who actually grew up in our fair city. Born in Germany, to a serviceman and his wife, he moved to Highland Park, northeast of downtown, at the age of three. He’s technically not a native, but he embodies LA in spirit, temperament, and our restless search for identity.
In 2021, Browne released his fifteenth album, Downhill from Everywhere. The title cut reminds us that all our human detritus ends up in the ocean eventually. As far as I know, the record didn’t make a big splash, but it struck me way beneath the surface. “Still Looking for Something,” the opener, is a more down-to-earth version of the longing expressed in U2’s wistful “Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” (without ending the title with a preposition). “Until Justice Is Real,” as political as the title cut is environmental, exemplifies JB’s activist leadership. The overall production is clean and crisp, with layered guitars providing a box spring for the beat and Browne’s ever-enchanting voice. But this isn’t an album review. The winner of the prize for first Song of the Week? “Minutes to Downtown.”
I try to steer clear of hackneyed concepts. To say a song is “haunting” is a descriptive cop-out. Profound melodies hit hard, making us feel viscerally. But to say they haunt us is too vague. Let’s face it, we could pick any Stevie Nicks song and say it’s “haunting.” Her raspy cadence and witchy lyrics overlay that effect. Same with Don Henley’s soulful grit, which, coupled with those steely guitars, elevate the Eagles’ “Witchy Woman” into a spooky voodoo vibe. For me, the Stones “Gimme Shelter” evokes the specter of Armageddon. Maybe we’ll compile that list of etherea later. But this entry is intended to showcase one under-the-radar song on the latest JB album that makes my soul strings vibrate.
“Minutes to Downtown” evokes a sentimental tone at the start through a stark arrangement that accentuates a brooding keyboard and percussive guitar in a minor key. Browne’s vocal doesn’t hit until we’re beyond the 30-second mark. With a dark keyboard melody mirroring his nuanced phrasing, Browne reflects on his inability to understand the nature of his residency and expresses surprise that he remained in LA. Clearly, Jackson is singing to the over-60 crowd—which includes me.
The chorus speaks to the swift passage of our days. So it’s a bigger tale, one of loss, longing, and dead-end dreams. By keeping the instruments sparse but distinctive, the focus stays on Browne’s well-worn voice, still stirring, penetrative, and transcendent in tone. Through this story, he takes us on a journey to the center of our being, to the heart of the open spaces that give us time to think as we traverse the wide expanse of the sprawl that defines LA.
Months after I first heard this song I found myself driving east on the 101 through the valley. I looked up at one of those changeable message signs that offers traffic estimates in real time. The electronic letters lit up, “Minutes to Downtown,” and flashed a best guess on how long it would take to reach DTLA. “Aha,” I thought. “Jackson Browne, like any true artist, found inspiration in the mundane. From this sign, he took the tune’s name.”
I highly recommend this song—this entire album, indeed—for your cruising pleasure. I also advise a view of the (not haunting but heartfelt) video. But wait until you’re off the endless freeway and able to enjoy a restful YouTube moment when, for a change, you’re not driving.