The Joyful Rattle of a Dream Machine: A Gritty, Celebratory Ode to the Great American Car.
For those of us who came of age with the golden, sun-drenched anthems of the 1970s Laurel Canyon sound, the pairing of Jackson Browne and David Lindley was nothing less than a musical marriage made in heaven. Browne, the introspective poet of vulnerability and conscience, found his perfect, flamboyant foil in Lindley, the multi-instrumentalist whose playing was a kaleidoscope of world music, rock-and-roll snarl, and pure, joyous virtuosity. The 2010 live album, Love Is Strange: En Vivo Con Tino, serves as a magnificent, late-career testament to this lifelong brotherhood, and no track captures their shared, mischievous spirit better than their blazing rendition of “Mercury Blues.”
Key information: The track “Mercury Blues” is a cover of a song originally written as “Mercury Boogie” by the blues musician K.C. Douglas (with Robert L. Geddins) and first recorded in 1948. The version by Jackson Browne & David Lindley is featured on their 2010 live album, Love Is Strange: En Vivo Con Tino. The album, which documents a 2006 tour of Spain and the UK, was a critical success, peaking at No. 46 on the US Billboard 200 albums chart and hitting No. 1 on the Billboard Folk Albums chart. As a live track and album cut, “Mercury Blues” itself did not chart as a single. Lindley first popularized this version on his own 1981 debut solo album, El Rayo-X.
The story behind this specific live recording is a lovely echo of their enduring, complementary artistry. For decades, David Lindley served as Jackson Browne’s essential musical partner, his incredible slide guitar work shaping the sound of classic albums like Running on Empty and The Pretender. Their reunion for the 2006 tour, documented on Love Is Strange, was a warm embrace of their roots, featuring an acoustic trio where the spare instrumentation only amplified the sheer brilliance of Lindley’s playing.
But it is the meaning of the song—in the hands of these two musicians—that truly resonates. “Mercury Blues,” at its core, is a classic piece of Americana, a raw expression of longing and pride centered on the ultimate status symbol of the post-war era: the Mercury automobile. The original 1948 blues tune, “Mercury Boogie,” was an immediate, visceral connection between a man and his powerful machine—a sleek, V8-powered Ford Mercury Eight that represented freedom, a promise of mobility, and a way to impress the prettiest girl in town. The famous refrain, “Lord, I’m crazy ’bout a Mercury / I’m gonna buy me a Mercury and cruise it up and down the road,” is pure, unadulterated desire.
What Browne and Lindley bring to it, however, is a deep sense of shared history and world-weary joy. This live version, driven by a fierce, almost maniacal energy, is anchored by Lindley’s scorching acoustic Hawaiian lap steel—that familiar, metallic whine that cuts straight to the soul, making the steel guitar sound like the Mercury’s own engine, straining against the law. Browne, playing a baritone guitar, provides the rhythmic anchor and, stepping back, allows his former foil to take the lead vocals. For older readers, the drama isn’t just in the music; it’s in the visual—watching two old friends, who shaped a generation’s sound, finally coming home to the blues, the very bedrock of the rock-and-roll they helped define. It’s a moment of delightful recklessness, a joyous, gritty reminder that even after all the years, all the introspective ballads and social critiques, the sheer thrill of a fast car and a beautiful noise is a dream worth chasing. “Mercury Blues” is the sound of two masters having the time of their lives, and through them, we are momentarily transported back to our own youthful, reckless journeys.