Consisting of mainly commonplace singer/songwriter material, Dan Hill's Love in the Shadows proved to be one of his most uninspired albums. Only the title track garnered any attention, a melodious pop tune led by Hill's half-whispered voice. Other tracks from the album, such as "In Your Eyes" and "Don't Know Where It Comes From," resemble the same type of adult contemporary softness that Dan Fogelberg or James Taylor produce; flashbacks of lost loves, reminiscing about the innocence of youth, and the overt struggle with middle age. Nothing from Love in the Shadows matches the genuine tenderness of 1977's "Sometimes When We Touch" that gave him a number three single, or equals the romanticism of "Can't We Try," his duet with Vonda Sheppard in 1987. Hill's songwriting is short on inspiration and long on insipidness, pulled tediously by lackluster guitar/piano combinations. Now deleted, even the title track fails to appear on The Best of Dan Hill, which was released in the late 1990s. ~ Mike DeGagne, All Music Guide
Having a hit with "Sometimes When We Touch" did wonders for Dan Hill's career, not just because it brought him success, but because that success helped him focus his writing and open up the sonic possibilities of his records. Even on Longer Fuse, the album that gave the world "Sometimes When We Touch," he was still obsessed with literalism, having every song be explicitly about personal matters, presented in unadorned acoustic arrangements. On its sequel, 1978's Frozen in the Night, there are still some remnants of that -- some sparse arrangements, some painfully personal lyrics -- but he's made a giant step away from that aesthetic, writing more open-ended songs and offering a wholly welcome greater variety in the production. Perhaps some of this is down to his collaborating with Barry Mann on half the album; their collaborations have a greater pop sensibility that accentuates the strengths of Hill's music, particularly on "Frozen in the Night" and the single "Let the Song Last Forever." But this new sensibility is apparent on Hill's solo tracks, too. It's not perfect by any means -- he still has the tendency to get lost in lyrical detail to the expense of the overall sound of the song, with too many languid, formless songs -- but this is a big move in the right direction and the best record he had released to date. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Sensitive, introspective singer/songwriters came to be considered a joke largely because of artists like Dan Hill. Armed with an acoustic guitar and a quavering voice, Hill earnestly digs down deep in his heart, letting the feelings flow on the page, never once dressing his words with such bothersome frivolities as metaphors. His songs are literal, directly addressing his emotions in the moment -- something he must have realized, because on his second album, Hold On, he provides the locations and dates that each of the ten songs were written ("Canada" was written in Edmonton in October 1975; "All Alone in California" was written in January 1976 in Los Angeles). This specificity makes listening to Hold On feel like reading a journal, complete with the unsettling awkwardness that eavesdropping can occasionally bring. Hill's songs are written like journal entries, too, with the music acting as a backdrop to the melodies that are vehicles for the words. In other words, not many hooks here. Producers Matthew McCauley and Fred Mollin manage to offer some window dressing with strings, electric pianos, and guitars from some studio pros, which manages to keep the album moving, even if it doesn't really help individual songs catch hold. All this doesn't make Hold On especially compelling, even if it is interesting as an artifact of its time, since while there are better singer/songwriter albums to be sure, this illustrates why some critics had turned on the style by the late '70s. Ironically, Hold On is a better, more varied album than its successor, Longer Fuse, which brought Hill a hit with "Sometimes When We Touch." ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide