On Music: Part I "Not-So-Sweet Baby James"
The other day at lunch we were discussing music when some idiot brought up James Taylor. I am that idiot. To paraphrase, I said James Taylor is an over-hyped hack. Others vehemently disagreed.
James Taylor came up because of Beck. I love Beck, but I didn’t like his album Sea Change (what I heard of it) because it’s pretty slow and boring and deals with breakups, and I’m past all of that. In an interview, Beck mentioned that he had listened to a lot of James Taylor albums either before or during the creation of his own album, and that he thought James Taylor was some sort of quintessential singer-songwriter.
I vehemently disagree.
Because I’ve been re-watching all of Sex and the City this past week, I’m going to turn into Carrie Bradshaw and say . . .
“I couldn’t help but wonder . . . can music be judged objectively? Or is musical beauty in the ear of the beholder?”
I know you’re dying to hear the answer, so here it is. Musical taste is subjective. Therefore, if someone calls your music “pure crap!” don’t sweat it. You probably don’t like all of their choices, either, and no one else’s opinion should ever—EVER—cloud your personal enjoyment of a song or any other work of art.
Does that mean there is no room for objectivity in music? No! See? No more confusion. Within any art form there are standards. Those who immerse themselves in the art form—let’s stick to music—become quite knowledgeable about what it takes to craft a great pop song, write an opera, or master a musical instrument. In their minds a musician like John Coltrane gets two big thumbs up; Ashlee Simpson . . . eh, not considered worthy of a dirty fingernail clipping, let alone a digit.
There’s another side to this story which, to me, is the really interesting part, and that is the role that music plays in our social lives and the formation of our personal identity. That’s in Part II.
Even though this isn't a vendetta against JT, his name came up and he's a good example of all of this. So let’s talk about James Taylor for a minute. He’s considered by many to be a musical legend, the picture-boy of the singer-songwriter frenzy of the 1970s. If you think this, fine. But tell me—how many great songs has Jim actually written? Stop and think about it for a minute. Time’s up.
Just a few, really, if you use the term “great” liberally: Sweet Baby James, Fire and Rain, Carolina in My Mind. Some of his biggest hits—You’ve Got a Friend, How Sweet It Is, Mockingbird—were other people’s songs. Flip is right—it’s not his fault that these songs made it big and are associated with him. But when you’re talking about great singer-songwriters, well, he’s a really good singer, but he’s missing half the equation there.
What is the equation? According to The All Music Guide to Rock, “. . . singer-songwriters put the emphasis on their material, rather than their vocal delivery, stylistic signatures, or musical backing . . . . Both the compositions and the arrangements are written primarily as solo vehicles, rather than with full rock ‘n’ roll bands in mind. . . . The material tends toward the introspective, sensitive, romantic, and confessional, though it is not as wholly self-absorbed as some critics claim. They are not singles-oriented artists (though there have been quite a few massive singer-songwriter hit singles), but craft albums as complete, flowing statements.”
You might think that I just don’t like the genre. It’s not my favorite, to be sure, but I listen to a good deal of it. Carole King’s Tapestry was and is totally great—the classic, the epitome of the genre. You want great, really great singer-songwriters? I give you Paul Simon! Van Morrison! Neil Young! Joni Mitchell! And old what’s-his-name . . . oh, yeah—Bob Dylan! My husband added Greg Brown. And I just thought of John Prine. And don’t forget about the dark side of the genre—Tom Waits. To me, all of these folksy folks (and Tom Waits) beat the pants off of James Taylor.
So what does this all mean?
Absolutely nothing! It’s 94% my subjective opinion put forth on my blog. However, I am reserving the right to say that 6% of my little essay about James Taylor is objective. I’m being diplomatic. Music is something that I know a little sumpn’ about. I’ve been an avid listener since I was a child. I’ve compiled the material for and taught classes about popular music. I’ve read about it, had intense conversations with musicians and other music lovers about it, and seen a lot of performances. I named my kid after musicians.
So while I may sneer when a certain musician is mentioned, and even change my perception about a person ever so slightly for better or worse depending on who they like, I will concede that there is no accounting for musical taste. We like what we like. If you want to learn more about music—if you want to more fully appreciate it—you’ll open yourself up to it and really listen to it. You’ll discuss it with others. You’ll be open to others’ criticism of an artist that you love, yet not let their opinions dampen your enjoyment. And you’ll go home immediately and burn your James Taylor’s Greatest Hits album. Just kidding, of course.
Addendum! Last night--two days after this was written--I was watching football and guess who sang the national anthem? That's right! "One of America's Greatest Singer-Songwriters!" So that nails my argument. If someone who books singers for football games calls him great . . . well, that never holds up . . . except in the case of Paul McCartney. Ah, forget it.
James Taylor came up because of Beck. I love Beck, but I didn’t like his album Sea Change (what I heard of it) because it’s pretty slow and boring and deals with breakups, and I’m past all of that. In an interview, Beck mentioned that he had listened to a lot of James Taylor albums either before or during the creation of his own album, and that he thought James Taylor was some sort of quintessential singer-songwriter.
I vehemently disagree.
Because I’ve been re-watching all of Sex and the City this past week, I’m going to turn into Carrie Bradshaw and say . . .
“I couldn’t help but wonder . . . can music be judged objectively? Or is musical beauty in the ear of the beholder?”
I know you’re dying to hear the answer, so here it is. Musical taste is subjective. Therefore, if someone calls your music “pure crap!” don’t sweat it. You probably don’t like all of their choices, either, and no one else’s opinion should ever—EVER—cloud your personal enjoyment of a song or any other work of art.
Does that mean there is no room for objectivity in music? No! See? No more confusion. Within any art form there are standards. Those who immerse themselves in the art form—let’s stick to music—become quite knowledgeable about what it takes to craft a great pop song, write an opera, or master a musical instrument. In their minds a musician like John Coltrane gets two big thumbs up; Ashlee Simpson . . . eh, not considered worthy of a dirty fingernail clipping, let alone a digit.
There’s another side to this story which, to me, is the really interesting part, and that is the role that music plays in our social lives and the formation of our personal identity. That’s in Part II.
Even though this isn't a vendetta against JT, his name came up and he's a good example of all of this. So let’s talk about James Taylor for a minute. He’s considered by many to be a musical legend, the picture-boy of the singer-songwriter frenzy of the 1970s. If you think this, fine. But tell me—how many great songs has Jim actually written? Stop and think about it for a minute. Time’s up.
Just a few, really, if you use the term “great” liberally: Sweet Baby James, Fire and Rain, Carolina in My Mind. Some of his biggest hits—You’ve Got a Friend, How Sweet It Is, Mockingbird—were other people’s songs. Flip is right—it’s not his fault that these songs made it big and are associated with him. But when you’re talking about great singer-songwriters, well, he’s a really good singer, but he’s missing half the equation there.
What is the equation? According to The All Music Guide to Rock, “. . . singer-songwriters put the emphasis on their material, rather than their vocal delivery, stylistic signatures, or musical backing . . . . Both the compositions and the arrangements are written primarily as solo vehicles, rather than with full rock ‘n’ roll bands in mind. . . . The material tends toward the introspective, sensitive, romantic, and confessional, though it is not as wholly self-absorbed as some critics claim. They are not singles-oriented artists (though there have been quite a few massive singer-songwriter hit singles), but craft albums as complete, flowing statements.”
You might think that I just don’t like the genre. It’s not my favorite, to be sure, but I listen to a good deal of it. Carole King’s Tapestry was and is totally great—the classic, the epitome of the genre. You want great, really great singer-songwriters? I give you Paul Simon! Van Morrison! Neil Young! Joni Mitchell! And old what’s-his-name . . . oh, yeah—Bob Dylan! My husband added Greg Brown. And I just thought of John Prine. And don’t forget about the dark side of the genre—Tom Waits. To me, all of these folksy folks (and Tom Waits) beat the pants off of James Taylor.
So what does this all mean?
Absolutely nothing! It’s 94% my subjective opinion put forth on my blog. However, I am reserving the right to say that 6% of my little essay about James Taylor is objective. I’m being diplomatic. Music is something that I know a little sumpn’ about. I’ve been an avid listener since I was a child. I’ve compiled the material for and taught classes about popular music. I’ve read about it, had intense conversations with musicians and other music lovers about it, and seen a lot of performances. I named my kid after musicians.
So while I may sneer when a certain musician is mentioned, and even change my perception about a person ever so slightly for better or worse depending on who they like, I will concede that there is no accounting for musical taste. We like what we like. If you want to learn more about music—if you want to more fully appreciate it—you’ll open yourself up to it and really listen to it. You’ll discuss it with others. You’ll be open to others’ criticism of an artist that you love, yet not let their opinions dampen your enjoyment. And you’ll go home immediately and burn your James Taylor’s Greatest Hits album. Just kidding, of course.
Addendum! Last night--two days after this was written--I was watching football and guess who sang the national anthem? That's right! "One of America's Greatest Singer-Songwriters!" So that nails my argument. If someone who books singers for football games calls him great . . . well, that never holds up . . . except in the case of Paul McCartney. Ah, forget it.
posted by lulu | 5:42 AM
5 Comments:
Well, Lulu, now you’ve done it. You have managed to get my goat. Before I continue, please keep in mind that no matter what I write below, I love and respect you. But, you are a confrontation-loving gal, and with this post, you are just asking for it. (By the way, I haven’t read Part II yet. I need to get my thoughts on this one out now.)
First of all, don’t you think there were parts of this that were . . . just a little bit arrogant? Like when you say you don’t like songs about breakups because you’re “past all that.” Well, you know, anything can happen in life. In all probability, I’d say 99.7% or so, you and Kevin will be together until it’s time for one of you to exit the planet . . . but you never know. Looking down your nose at karma is never a good idea.
But at the heart of the matter . . . let me quote you here:
“If you think this, fine. But tell me—how many great songs has Jim actually written? Stop and think about it for a minute. Time’s up.
Just a few, really, if you use the term “great” liberally: Sweet Baby James, Fire and Rain, Carolina in My Mind. Some of his biggest hits—You’ve Got a Friend, How Sweet It Is, Mockingbird—were other people’s songs. Flip is right—it’s not his fault that these songs made it big and are associated with him. But when you’re talking about great singer-songwriters, well, he’s a really good singer, but he’s missing half the equation there.”
Excuse me?? Over the course of his career, this man put out OVER 15 ALBUMS, NOT COUNTING HIS GREATEST HITS!!! So the fact that three of his “big” songs (meaning they entered the mainstream and got played on the radio ad naseum) were written by other people just automatically negates the other 120 or so songs he wrote??? Is this really supposed to be part of your “objective” analysis?
It strikes me as particulary odd that you would merely list his big radio hits in your discourse, when you know better than anyone that for the most part, an artist’s crappiest songs are played on the radio and their best ones never get radio time.
I can handle the fact that you don’t like JT, and believe me, that is not going to affect my opinion of him. (In fact, I don’t love him myself, but I still pick up “Mud Slide Slim” and listen to it every now and then. It’s a great CD full of songs that JT wrote himself! Well, all but one.) I just had to get this off my chest, some of the blatant incongruencies here.
O.K., I’ll read Part II now.
What lovely, meaty comments! I wasn't really asking for it, but it was certainly in the realm of possibility, and makes for more interesting blog posts.
A few points:
When I said I was "past all that", I wasn't flirting with karma. I know better. But I AM over 20-early 30-something non-marriage, childless break-ups, and I'm WAY over breakup songs in general. That's all I meant.
Your points about radio songs vs. deep tracks are well-taken. This is, in fact, why I consider you one of my savvier music-savvy friends! However, when JT gets described by NFL entertainment procurers as "one of America's greatest singer-songwriters", or as "great" by people who you know have never listened to anything but his radio songs, do you think they are making that judgment based on the material mostly hidden in those 15 albums? Or is calling him "great" more of a knee-jerk, spoon-fed, uncritical reaction? I would guess the latter, and therein lies my annoyance and lingering "objective" arrogance. If someone is lauded by a seeming majority of people I am automatically skeptical. If, upon further study, they don't seem to deserve their hyped label, I am a vicious bitch-goddess. What can I say? I could definitely be wrong! That's what so great about opinions that don't mean anything.
First, about the breakup songs—that’s fine if you don’t like them, but the implication was that you don’t like them because you’ve achieved a higher plane, that people who DO like them are spiritually immature. Maybe I’m being defensive and reading too much into it, though. The thing is, I don’t see how being in a healthy, happy, mature relationship automatically precludes enjoying breakup songs. I’m also happily married, but I DO enjoy well-written breakup songs—they allow me to relive my past, sometimes poignantly, sometimes painfully, sometimes a little angrily. Isn’t that the point of music? It can be a portal to every emotion. And feeling every emotion is a good thing (in the words of your hero, Martha).
For the record, I only like about half the songs on Sea Change. I find it interesting that Beck used the album to exorcise his relationship demons, though—he does manage to tell a fairly cohesive story, which is the goal of a singer/songwriter’s album, yes?
And finally—and this is the last I’ll say on this—all I’m saying about JT is that you simply CANNOT say he isn’t a songwriter, which seemed to be your main criticism of him. Call him derivative, boring, uncreative, whatever it is you think he is—call him a BAD songwriter if you’d like. But that doesn’t change the fact that he IS a songwriter. I don’t see how the amount of hype he gets makes any difference. There are plenty of people you love who get TONS of hype and deserve it, and there are plenty of people who deserve tons of hype and get none. It’s all in the hands of the fickle public, record companies, promotion teams, radio stations, etc. Not the SONGWRITER’S fault.
First to flip:
You have taught me a writerly lesson in being more concise and . . . writerly. I meant no higher plane in my statement about being "past all that". There are great breakup songs that I enjoy, though I can't think of even ONE right now! I did do an entire Lulu show devoted to them once, though.
You are correct about the hype. I know that my disgust about people who don't get the hype they deserve makes me extra demonic about those that get far more than they deserve. But I must say . . . I did argue that he wasn't a "great" S-S. It would be plain silly to say he didn't write songs! : D
Raisinette: I certainly can't argue with that! We all have and deserve our happy music. There might be a few light-listening ghosts in my musical closet. . . .
Have you ever asked someone what they liked musically and they said "I listen to everything!" and you just know that they are filthy liars? You are not one of those people. In my intense observations of your musical taste, you really do seem to listen to (just about) everything, and the enjoyment you take in music is very endearing. If I had to place a band in the center of your musical world, though, I'd pick The Kinks.
Whoa. Girl-fight! Nothing like it. Slap and slap back.
James is a crooner. He still looks good, keeps working at his craft, seems to enjoy touring for big bucks, and puts out a decent, easy-on-the-ears record every now and then. I once paid good money to see him at Blossom Music Center, and it was a pleasant evening out with friends.
While I don't agree that "Fifty million Elvis fans (or Britney fans, or Cher fans, or whoever) can't be wrong," I also don't agree that fifty million Elvis fans (et al) can't be right.
What strikes me as odd is when the adored Beck makes the claim that Taylor is great, and Taylor takes the heat for not being authentic enough.
But my favorite line: I wasn't flirting with karma. I know better.
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