FROM: _Stereo Review_ vol 40 pg 62-7, January, 1978 A TALK WITH JAMES TAYLOR BY: RICK MITZ Right at the start, there is something you should know about James Taylor, something that will forever change the way your feel about rock superstars, taxi drivers, and life in general. And that something is this: James Taylor drives a yellow cab. True, it doesn't have a meter in it. He doesn't charge a fare, and he certainly doesn't accept tips. And he did have the light on top surgically removed. But that's what he drives-a yellow cab. "It's a good car. I don't care what happens to it. I drive it. Anyone can drive it. The babysitter can drive it. A total stranger can drive it, because I don't have any great love for the vehicle. Which is why I love it so much." Now, maybe the taxi isn't the love object highest on James Taylor's list these days. Perhaps his family and a few friends and- oh, yes- his music, come first. But you ought to know that it's way up there. You should also know that James Taylor doesn't wear glasses that light up, he rarely destroys hotel rooms, and his favorite groupies are his two children, whom he adores. And what he'd really like to do (his latest preoccupation) is run a brewery. He's already got a name picked out: Taylor's Lighthouse Lager. In the meantime, though, he brews himself a cup of tea. He's in his white New York kitchen, huddled over the boiling water, communing with the tea leaves. As he dunks the tea bag in and out of his cup, he looks all knees and elbows. But there's plenty of in-between too. At six feet three inches, taut and tight, James Taylor has the body of a long distance runner. In the pop durability contest, the marathon race of the music business, Taylor has completed more than his share of laps. While other performers have long since pooped out, James is still running. Not from, but to. At thirty, he's already into his eleventh year as a successful musician, and that's quite a track record. He is a pioneer in a business littered with followers. When he first started, he was dubbed the "New James Dean." Now, neophyte musicians are touted as the "New James Taylor." He is an institution, and he has also become an industry, complete with posters, T-shirts, souvenir books, and all the other trappings of adulation. In short, he's got just about everything: Fame and success, good health and good looks, a lot of talent, and a lot of love. If you look closer, though, you will find a man bothered by self-doubt and insecurity, a man who is supercritical of himself, as easily wounded by the bullets of the press as by the lack of them on the weekly record-rating charts. "If I have a successful album," Taylor says. "It'll make a difference in a whole year. If an album doesn't do so well it hurts." According to that criterion, Taylor has had a lot of good years. It began, of course, with the song Fire and Rain in 1970, a painfully lonely and lovely anthem that heralded the transition from the acid-hard Sixties to the mello-soft Seventies. Now more than a dozen hit songs later ....James Taylor is sill with us. He has survived and thrived in a business that eats up its musicians like popcorn. Unlike the scores of singer/songwriters who have faded from public view and are now driving taxis because they must, James Taylor is still up there on top, driving a taxi by choice. For example, his latest album, "JT," first went gold, then double-platinum and is swiftly heading for uranium. His "Sweet Baby James" was Warner Bros. hottest-selling album at more than three million copies until Fleetwood Mac came along and edged it out. All told, Taylor has sold more than eleven million records, and by the time you finish reading this he'll have undoubtedly have sold a few dozen more. The man may sing, but he doesn't often talk publicly. Although he's surprisingly articulate, interviews with Taylor have become so rare they're almost extinct. Says Taylor: "I think what the press has found to sell in me has been my self-destructiveness. They spent a lot of time- and I'm guilty of it too- talking about my hospital days and my drug problems. That, coupled with songs like Fire and Rain, has created an image of someone who is having a hard time. They found that salable . It was really overdone- Things simply never were that bad. But if people came into my house and saw me playing with my kids....well, that wasn't a salable image; everbody has kids. Of course, nowadays, everybody has kids who are strung out on dope or in a mental hospital. So I guess it's time for me to move along to another character-if I want to keep those cards and letters coming." Sitting and sipping his tea (the beverage would later change to beer, then to coffee, then back to tea again), Taylor talked generously and thoughtfully. He perched himself on the edge of a couch in the den. The sounds of music, children laughing, phones ringing, and vacuum cleaners whining wafted their way into the conversation. In a skyhigh apartment overlooking Manhattan, James Taylor somehow managed to be quite down-to-earth. "There was do doubt that success had made me happier with myself. A psychiatrist I used to see, and occasionally go back to visit, said to me that nothing succeeds like success. It's true. It increases your self-image and it makes you feel more confident. Your perform better. You know, I've had my problems and you tend not to fall back into these problems or onto old crutches. So success has really been great , and I thank everybody who contributes because it really increases my self-esteem. I have found, though, that when it hasn't been too easy for me, it's because I'm taking myself too seriously. It never hurts to lighten up, to de-emphasize the urgency of the situation. Because there's just not that much to worry about." He gingerly moves his cup onto the floor. Against one wall of the den is a beautiful antique baby bed. Against another is a desk piled with memos and newspaper ads to be approved, promotional pictures, and business correspondence. James Taylor, Inc.... "I am more business conscious now. And I've squared up somewhat. I guess it came about from being in the business such a long time. In ways, it may be poison. But I think you square up as you get older and pick up a family. If you make money and accrue things, your tend to become more conservative, and I think responsibility squares you up, too." He picks up the cup and looks at a few tea leaves that have escaped from the bag and are floating on the top." Things are different now than they were seven or eight years ago. Today the music business is much more a business, there's much more competition. It seems to me that things are very tightly packed and there's very little room to move around any more. It weens like, if someone goes up, someone else comes down; It's very close to a total saturation point with popular music. "It's a whole different thing from the romantic idea we used to have of being a rock star. It's sobering for a guy like me who at one point had the romantic idea of being a "troubadour." It sure is an education to see what goes into selling records. It really is a matter of sink or swim. Nice guys, in a sense, finish last. That's not to say that you have to be a rat to do well in this business. What I mean to say is that you have to blow your own horn. And that's really all I'm doing anyway. I would be deluding everybody including myself if I said I were not. "But an artist doesn't necessarily have to grow up and take care of himself. I mean, I have relatively few responsibilities, and I have the luxury of not having to yell at anyone, and it's my good fortune in life to be able to take a bath rather than make someone else take a beating. I get paid for doing what I love, so I'm in the catbird seat." Twelve years ago Taylor was far from that catbird seat. He went to New York in 1966 to form a band (which disbanded after one year) called the Flying Machine. Then, in 1968, he arrived in London, an unknown street musician trying to peddle a demonstration record. He ended up recording his first album for the Beatles' Apple Records. Although well-reviewed critically, it didn't sell well. He left the label, returned to the U.S., and signed with Warner Brothers (today he records for Columbia). In 1970, "Sweet Baby James" was released, and music history took a little turn. Music history took a turn....? Taylor doesn't like to hear that kind of talk. "It still doesn't seem to me that I was doing anything different from the other people around me. I was listening to folk music in Boston and Cambridge. It was really acts like Peter, Paul and Mary, Bob Dylan, Ian and Sylvia, the Kweskin Jug Band, Tom Rush, and the Kingston Trio that brought folk music to popularity. You know, it's actually all folk music, what we listen to today. It has a self-made tradition, people who go out and shop for their own education rather that having one delivered to them. Sure, I'm a folk musician. And it's not only because I can't read or write music. It's because I'm a product of the happenstantial kind of random musical environment that I grew up in. I was influenced by the people we called folkies. I was introduced to and strongly influenced by black music. I was introduced to jazz a little bit. And the country music that I heard on the radio down South - these were pretty much what I listened to all the time. And I consider all of that whatever roots I have." He's branched out from those roots. Today there is a whole James Taylor style, characterized by rich melodies and the careful melding of music and lyric. A song such as his Sunny Skies, for example, has been consciously crafted for effect, with its dark lyric fused to joyous melody. But the distinguishing trademark of his style is self-revelation through lyrics. Carly Simon's songs are similar in that respect. In fact, it's been said that if you listen to James' albums and then listen to Carly's you can figure out what's going on in their relationship at any given time. James laughs at the suggestion: "Well, then you probably know as much about our relationship as we do..." He is reluctant to talk about his song lyrics though, and when asked to describe a song, he'll talk about the chord changes rather than the mental changes that went into the writing. "I think I'm probably much more guarded in my personal life than I am in a song lyric. But it's not like really being open in a song: It's not like relating directly with someone. A song is a form, you know, it's like something that you're putting in the air, and if it's a personal statement that's okay - if that's the type of thing you're trying to do. In other words, if I were to explain myself to you, it would be as if to elicit some response from you. But you don't do that in a song. There is no interchange. It's just a statement. I get a lot of mail, and I suppose some people do respond to a song in that way. Some people write me and tell me they like my songs or they'd like me to come over for dinner or that they're in a tight jam - and that's the closest thing to an interchange in a song." He pauses for a moment. " But you know, they're gonna do it anyway - they're going to try to figure out who you are from the lyrics of a song. If you try to be a star and you're in the public eye, they're going to do it. And it's not just a matter of whether they'll be right or wrong in their assumptions. Obviously they're going to be wrong, but how wrong they're going to be is the question." Another rest, another sip. "There is a songwriter's place. There is a place you are at when you write a song, and I'm not there all the time. I'm there twelve times a year or less. I don't know if it has to do with alpha rhythms or bio-rhythms or what food additives they've been popping into you. I don't know what goes into you to allow you to reach that state of feeling so that you can write a song. And the song's lyrics are not necessarily the view of the person who's doing the writing. That's just the state. Different songs happen different ways." One source of mild discontent for Taylor is that he hasn't written a hit song for some time. "I've had mostly oldies as hits for a while now. I really haven't had a big record since _Don't let Me Be Lonely Tonight_. Carole King wrote _You've Got a Friend_, and then there were a sting of oldies- Mocking-bird, How Sweet It Is, and Handy Man. I would very much like to have a hit with something I've written myself." What Taylor fohgets, of course, are the songs he's written that have been hits of varying degrees - songs like Mexico, Shower the People, and of course his latest, Your Smilin' Face, which he calls "bubblegum" and which he wrote for his daughter. Also, he's hard at work writing songs for Working, a musical theater adaptation of Studs Terkel's book, scheduled for Broadway. But whatever he sings, his concert audience loves it, showing their appreciation with loud cheers, paying homage to him with standing ovations and lighted matches, sporting his picture on their T-shirts. Taylor became something of a sex symbol with his slow, sensual version of Handy Man. And so his photo hangs on a lot of thirteen-year-old girls' bedroom walls lately. "I don't really put much time into thinking about that," he says shyly. "But I don't mind being hung on walls - in fact, it pleases me to think about being hung on a young girl's wall and have her look at me. That's fine." There is, of course, nothing about a picture on a bedroom wall that gives any clue whatsoever about what it took in terms of work and sheer nerve to get there. "Performing - it's terrifying. And it has to stay that way. Your really need that energy and that urgency, or else you'd get complacent after a number of years doing it. You'd just lay back and nothing would happen. But if you're ready, if your throat is in good shape and our head is in good shape, and you know that the arrangements are there and your instruments are together and your sound and lights and everybody are all organized, then it's all okay. "What I say to myself before I go on stage is that I'm the right person to be here now - you know, that this is my job. The performance that's about to be given is my performance and nobody else can do it. And I just sort of get into a frame of mind where I'm fated to do it. It's sort of like Zen archery - there's the target and I'm the arrow, and there's the space to be covered between the two of us. Sometimes walking on stage becomes an out-of-body experience. I start to come around the guy wire that's holding up the backdrop, and the curtain and the monitors are on my right. The stage manager is holding up his hand with the headset on, waiting to will the spotlight operator to hit me, and the house lights are out and the audience is beginning to make some noise. And then the stage manager points at me _ the spot hits the corner, and I come around the corner, and every step is like it takes... a vision of myself rises about three feet out of my body. I purposely go into a song that's familiar to me - it'll either be You Can Close Your Eyes, Sweet Baby James, or Riding on a Railroad - something that I can sing if a lion is chewing my foot off. And by the time I've done a couple of numbers, it's cool, you know. I can always be drawn forward by the music and become excited, but I try to keep myself a little cool. "I think you have to be in as good shape as you can to give a show. I quit smoking about three years ago, and it takes about three years for your voice to feel the effect of no cigarettes. I'm not a terrific singer. I've got a pretty good instrument, and I've god a good musical sense and I phrase well. But I don't have a good enough voice that I can abuse it. If you're given one of those terrific instruments by whoever passes them out, then you can do anything to it and still sound relatively okay. But in my case, a little rest makes all the difference." Taylor's on-stage patter is sparse. "It used to be that sometimes I would say silly things on stage, things like, `I know you'll like this song because it sounds like all the rest of my stuff.' i guess I really do feel, though, that if I had put our five instead of eight albums in my career. today I would have five really good albums. And three albums of stuff that maybe I would have wanted to leave off. I think my favorite album is `Walking Man.' Then comes the `Gorilla' Album, but I'm used to loving `Sweet Baby James.' I like `JT' too." Critics have always had a lot to say about Taylor's albums. Many performers claim they don't read their reviews or, if they do, they just don't care. Taylor wishes he felt that way. "I listen to my critics and absolutely read my record review. I try not to read beyond my name in print, but when I read something, I take it seriously, even though I know better. I remember one review that said the reviewer was tired of my stuff, that it was all the same, it was all romantic pap and I was beating myself and wasn't taking any chances - that I was boring. That review just poked a hole right through the bottom of things for a couple of days. (****Note to readers**** I have read this review and chose not to (include it because the writer was ignorant and rude and had no (appreciation for anything other that his own interests. Clearly he was a (really music edge fan of the mid-seventies and nothing more. This (article covered a mid-night performance of James Taylors at Radio City (Music Hall- the only one of it's kind. It was attended by VERY old (listeners of JT who respect the RCMH's atmosphere and didn't scream and (dance and jump on the seats (which the reviewer seemed to expect) But that's what you set yourself up for if you're playing for the public. You take your chances....Generally, though, I've been well-treated by the critics." While music critics have written about his professional life, another kind of journalist - the gossip monger - has taken aim at his private life, trying to spot anything controversial in this past, zeroing in on his problems, even his marriage to Carly Simon - which is all very strange, because he lives simply and conservatively, and their marriage is durably old-fashioned. Perhaps his reluctance about accepting the role of public personality goes back to Taylor's early experience with fame. He started out as musician and quickly ended up as media figure. While most other young men his age were still sitting in classrooms, James Taylor was sitting on the cover of TIME magazine. "I think that the early success and recognition really froze me up," he says now. "The Time magazine thing was a big deal. I don't know that there were a lot of rock-and-rollers on the cover of Time. Back then it was a big thing. I can't remember it that well. But in my career, a lot of things that have happened have been amazing, and I haven't really noticed them happening. When I turn away from them a little bit, when I get some distance, then I notice them. "Now it all just seems kind of natural. I don't know about about anything else besides being famous. It's about perfect, you know. If i want to, I can always find someone to recognize me in a place if I need the advantage of being famous. If someone won't take my check, for example, then just give me five minutes and I'll find someone who's heard You've Got a Friend. Somebody in the place will know of James Taylor - enough to consider cashing my check. There are about two or three things that it's worthwhile being famous for. "As far as being bugged on the street or not allowed to eat in a restaurant or stuff like that. I haven't got that problem. I guess I change my appearance enough so that people just don't recognize me. Or, if they do, they're just very kind about it. I hear people complain about what a bummer it is to be famous, and I think that when that happens, it's usually because someone's handled it poorly. People who recognize me usually have positive feelings about me. I may be proved wrong tomorrow, but my fame doesn't carry much notoriety with it." ________________________*******************____________________________