Reconsidering The Seventies: James Taylor
By Mitch Berg
In the wake of the breakup of the Beatles – who were probably the last musical group in history on which nearly everyone in the music-fan world, black, white, “serious”, pop, alt, mainstream – agreed, many different currents in pop music battled for public mindshare.
One genre that’d been largely waiting in pop music’s wings since before the Beatles got of the plane in New York was the various incarnations of folk music – both the “impure”, Bob Dylan strain that was mixing in rock and roll influences, and the more purist variety that was horrified by Dylan’s experimentation.
Naturally, over time, both subgenres mixed, frayed, developed orthodoxies, and apostates from those orthodoxies, and…well, became pretty much like any other genre of music.
And with the disappearance of the Beatles, and the retirement of the Formerly Fab Four to their single neutral musical corners, and the rest of the British Invasion either moving to consolidate their niches in pop culture (the Stones, the Who) and the deaths Hendrix and a slew of other sixties’ pioneers (Janis Joplin) and overrated hangers-on (Jim Morrison), some space appeared for some of those subgenres to make a move for center stage, as it were.
And of all of folk’s subgenres, one – the “Singer/Songwriter” – was most perfectly placed to reflect the zeitgeist of the decade. The seventies were a mewling, neutered, utterly un-funky decade, clogged with self-doubt and angst and anxiety about what one really, reallywas – and so were the Singer-Songwriters.
Loosely modeled after Bob Dylan, but with an extra helping of bathetic sensitivity and a little light on the inventiveness and the insight, the singer-songwriters were a little like the nebbishy folk musicians that’d clogged Greenwich Village and Haight Ashbury and Cedar-Riverside a decade earlier – but they’d skipped “Howl” and read “Bell Jar” instead.
They were many; John “Welcome Back Kotter” Sebastian, Dan Fogelberg, John Denver (soon to be subject of one of these pieces), Jim Croce (ditto), Jackson Browne (yep), John Prine (probably), Lobo and Terry Jacks and a zillion similar (not a chance).
But towering high above all of them, at least on the decade’s sales charts was James Taylor.
A veteran of crippling adolescent depression, a pal of the Beatles (he was recording at Apple Studios during the recording of “The White Album”, and his song “Something in the Way She Moves” reportedly influenced George Harrison’s “Something”), even-more-crippling drug addiction, and a seventies spent in the jet set married to Carly Simon, Taylor encapsulated the Singer/Songwriter genre – and the seventies itself – perfectly.
And so it should be no surprise that I couldn’t stand him.
Oh, that and the music. Taylor had a yen for making completely bloodless, desiccated covers of much better songs:
And even worse:
I mean, what did Marvin Gaye ever do to him?
So this was the stuff that I had to listen to (and play, when I started in radio in 1979) that was my frame of reference. That, and God only knows how many times Taylor (pal of Lorne Michaels, .
And so when I started this series, I thought to myself “Is there some side to James Taylor that I didn’t get to listen to on AM radio in the early eighties? Something that may have gotten buried under the mewling, puling, self-analysis?”
Well, sorta:
Hey, that’s Waddy Wachtel and Danny Kortchmar on guitar!
And every once in a while, mewling self-obsession just works.
So was my teenage (and twenty-age, and thirty-age) dismissal of Taylor fair?
Sure it was! The voice, the style, the genre…everything about James Taylor, like the entire genre he sprang from, annoys the bejeebers out of me, even thirty years later.
But a guy can take the odd guilty pleasure, right?
May 9th, 2014 at 12:24 pm
Good piece, Mitch.
I hope you do write about Prine, who’s an interesting case.
May 9th, 2014 at 12:51 pm
Looking forward to your posts on John Denver and Jim Croce.
May 9th, 2014 at 1:42 pm
Great as usual, Mr. Berg.
I’ve always like Taylor. Perhaps it is because he was quite popular at a time of my life (a big influencer on perception and the formation of preference) when things were good. He seemed to combine the seriousness of the folksinger with the then-fading coolness of the hippie movement. Or maybe it was being played when I got up enough courage to ask an admired (from afar) to dance and she agreed.
His music was always soothing, cool enough to admit liking, and didn’t seem to have, at least overtly, a political axe to grind, agenda, other non-musical distraction.
I understand that he is a long time devotee of Minnesota (or did he move?) luthier, James A. Olson Guitars, and always seemed to have legendary bassist, Lee Sklar – with a Duck Dynasty beard before they became cool – in his backing group. Made for a very good group.
Like The MN State Fair, none of Taylor’s individual aspects are the least bit appealing when considered individually. However, I always enjoyed the whole package.
RIP: Local musician Dan Dragich, 30, passed away on Tues. A very talented, humble, and kind musician who played around locally. May God rest his soul …
May 9th, 2014 at 3:29 pm
I understand that he is a long time devotee of Minnesota (or did he move?) luthier, James A. Olson Guitars
I did not know that!
May 9th, 2014 at 9:51 pm
You will of course include Michael Johnson. He certainly falls into this genre. He would come to the small colleges in the upper midwest and it was one of the hottest tickets in town. He kept the total attendance low for a little more intimate concert so the tickets went fast. Chicks loved the music and smaller venue, not like the major draws (Boston, Hall & Oates, etc.) with screaming fans, lighted matches (and other smokable substances), and cochlear implant causing amplifiers.
May 10th, 2014 at 7:09 am
Hi, Mitch
The story about how Taylor and Olson got together was printed in the Star Tribune a few years ago.
It seems that Olson was a struggling one-man shop but somehow managed to get access to Taylor’s hotel room one evening to leave a guitar and a business card.
Taylor was so impressed with the instrument that he had Olson build one to his specs.
Taylor has used Olson guitars almost exclusively since.
May 12th, 2014 at 9:40 am
I liked Taylor well enough (and I immediately thought of “Steamroller” when you commented about how bland he was). He has some songs that just fit well with me at certain times (I listened to “Fire and Rain” multiple times when my father was undergoing treatment for lymphoma). I wasn’t much for the “California Sound” overall, though I liked Jackson Browne’s edge. I loathed the “Tequila Sunrise”-era Eagles, but liked their early and late stuff (“Desperado” was a damn fine album).
Prine is a favorite of mine, though out of the Chicago “Earl of Old Town” scene with Steve Goodman and David Bromberg. These guys could all be funny and cutting, as well as sweet in a non-sticky way.
May 12th, 2014 at 12:29 pm
Bingo. Steamroller repelled me also. Like a cover of Stairway to Heaven by the Chmielewski Brothers Funtime Band. Not nearly his style.
I have always disliked the Eagles for reasons I cannot understand. I can think of many now, but back when I was in high school and the Eagles started, I had even less political awareness than I do now, and I loved country-oriented rock music, rare as it was back then.
However, Showtime or Cinemax recently showed The History of the Eagles, a two-part, four hour documentary on the band from start to finish. It was very well-done. I had no idea how many personnel changes the band went through.
I would strongly recommend it, even to non-fans of the band. It verified Don Henley’s absolute arrogance, obnoxiousness, and strong sense self-importance. Frey came across as a nice guy, though. Great playing, a great walk down memory lane (for those of my vintage), and some wonderful now-classic guitars and amps …