Friday 17th January

James Taylor was part of that talented generation that congregated in California in the late sixties and early seventies.  Along with Neil Young, Carole King, Joni Mitchell, Jackson Browne. Carly Simon, and many others he was part of the singer-songwriter explosion that captured my heart back in the early seventies.  James Taylor also had a very distinctive voice, a laid-back delivery and a cultivated hippy image.  He was tall and dark and everybody’s friend.  He had a string of great albums in the seventies, of which ‘Mud Slide Slim’ is possibly the best.  His voice just draws you in; the melodies are simple and the playing immaculate, but it is that voice you are captivated by.  He almost laid down a template for the Eagles, but actually all these singers fed off each other, James was surely being influenced by Dylan and the Byrds himself.

He has managed to carve out a long career, with a series of fairly middle of the road records and is a great favourite playing live.  He hasn’t really changed his style much at all over the years and his voice still sounds great.  But somehow I lost interest in the eighties; he had nothing new to say, and his songs lacked that certain creative sparkle I was always looking for.   But as soon as I put on one of the old records and he starts singing ‘Hey Mister, That’s Me Up On The Jukebox’ or perennial favourite ‘You’ve Got a Friend’, all is forgiven.  Very few artists can develop creatively as they age, most relying on their few early songs.  Maybe the hunger isn’t there anymore, maybe they daren’t step out of their security zone or maybe they just have nothing new to tell us.