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37 of 41 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
October Road Travels Well, August 16, 2002
I first heard James Taylor playing across a vinyl dinosaur on the Beatles' Apple label in 1969. The technology was archaic by today's standards, but when I spin that old disk on a worn-out turntable, one thing remains as clear now as it was then. James Taylor is possessed by a magical muse, which grows stronger with each dissonant guitar chord and intricate vocal harmony.On that day in '69, James Taylor set me on a musical journey destined to last a lifetime, teaching me his pristine guitar style, consuming me with his haunting vocal arrangements, and touching me with lyrics that made me both laugh and cry. A musical genius once clad in the faded hippie denims that were the badge of our unsettled generation, JT still touches the deepest regions of the heart and mind in his comfortable cottons, demonstrated by his new CD October Road. When Taylor released his Grammy-winning Hourglass five years ago, it wasn't unreasonable to assume he had completed his ultimate masterpiece - a collection of brilliant musical pieces that surpassed anything done before. Notwithstanding that JT has created past albums full of classic, memorable hits that stand the test of time, Hourglass rose above the commercial appeal of FM conglomerates, with a collection of songs that fully demonstrated his musical and technical genius. But along comes Taylor's long-awaited October Road, and one thing is now inevitably clear: JT raised the bar again. It is a bar that hovers far above a sorry music industry that normally panders to the belly button, pre-pubescent boys and tattoo crowd. Despite the advantages of 2002 digital technology that makes October Road a flawless technical gem, Taylor is careful to keep his tone pure, as if he scooted up next to the campfire and hitched his beautiful Olson six-string on his knee. Invite some of the finest studio musicians and vocalists to the party, and you find yourself cruising down October Road with your best friend. JT uses the old formula with fresh, new spices. In "September Grass," "October Road" (featuring Ry Cooder on lead guitar) and "My Traveling Star," JT covers the well-traveled path to which we're accustomed. He playfully teases with an old familiar guitar lick here and there that instantly transforms into a brand new tune, greeting you with the polite, southern charm of an old friend who's genuinely glad to see you again. For good measure, he adds "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," giving one pause to ponder in amazement that this is the same guy who knocks your hair off in concert renditions of "Steamroller Blues." Taylor doesn't veer far from the road with "Caroline I See You," and "On The 4th of July," which pay tribute to his new love, or "Carry Me On My Way," and "Whenever You're Ready," a sweet, Latin flavored tune that provokes some serious toe-tapping. But it is there where October Road takes new turns with "Mean Old Man," a clever self-examination in a style some critics compare to Gershwin. "Raised Up Family" is a dark, bluesy slash into Taylor's southern roots, where he alludes to a cousin whose life "took a whole lot of liquor just to let him live in his own skin" - a passage only Taylor could write. The most uncommon tunes on October Road are "Belfast to Boston," a reminder of the artists' fears for our survival, and the most perplexing piece on the CD, "Baby Buffalo," which combines the dark imagery of mortality and obsolescence. October Road showcases Taylor's often overlooked guitar skills, while his haunting baritone is as strong as ever. As always, he surrounds himself with brilliant musicians, and singers Kate Markowitz, David Lasley and Arnold McCuller are as familiar to the Taylor sound as his unique guitar riffs. As an added treat, Taylor's daughter, Sally, adds her strong alto to a few tunes, reminding those of us who remember the first time we heard the lullaby "Sarah Maria" that time marches on - double time. Taylor's past success has benefited us all, for he can now take his time to create and nurture his muse, unrestrained by the profit-driven industry around him. He has cultivated a loyal audience that awaits his next work with patient anticipation. It is a luxury that few artists achieve, but the cream always rises to the top. James Taylor is more than a cultural icon. He is the beacon of a musical body that impacted the world far deeper than any that preceded or followed. As Eric Clapton is the mind, Bonnie Raitt is the heart, and Stevie Ray is the gut - James Taylor is the soul.
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