CAROLE KING: WRAP AROUND JOY (1974)
1) Nightingale; 2) Change In
Mind, Change Of Heart; 3) Jazzman; 4) You Go Your Way, I'll Go Mine; 5) You're
Something New; 6) We Are All In This Together; 7) Wrap Around Joy; 8) You
Gentle Me; 9) My Lovin' Eyes; 10) Sweet Adonis; 11) A Night This Side Of Dying;
12) The Best Is Yet To Come.
Here it is, the album that Rhymes & Reasons should have really been if Carole hadn't
suddenly felt the need to wrap around pure mellowness instead of joy...ful pop hooks. With the relative failure
of Fantasy (or, more accurately,
with the world's refusal to acknowledge her as a bona fide progressive artist), she returns here to the simpler pop song
format, as well as (temporarily) abandons her lyrical ambitions — all the words
here are credited to David Palmer, the original singer of Steely Dan. (Some
people use this as a criticism, but who really
listens to Carole King songs for the words? It's usually enough to just get a
general message of what the song is about, and that's that — I like the tone of something like ʽBeautifulʼ far
more than the actual words of ʽBeautifulʼ, which are just an ordinary form of
bedroom psychotherapy).
The difference is that there's more upbeat and
truly joyful (rather than melancholic) stuff; the songs, on the whole, are
better written, with more sharply delineated and emotionally filled choruses,
and although even the best of these tunes cannot stand comparison with Tapestry (maybe because this album is just a bit too happy in comparison?), almost
everything is memorable in one way or another, not to mention endearing as
usual. Basically, if you are looking for a very straightforward, very romantic
and peaceful, but still very well-written, album of Carole King songs, Wrap Around Joy is precisely what you
should be doing.
The big hit was ʽJazzmanʼ, an ode to
saxophonist Curtis Amy, predictably replete with lengthy sax solos itself (from
notorious sax player Tom Scott) and therefore blending well into the epoch (it
might not be a coincidence that Lennon's ʽWhatever Gets You Thru The Nightʼ,
also heavily dependent on blaring saxes, rose to #1 in the same year —
actually, in the exact same month, November '74, as Carol's song hit #2). It's
catchy, joyful, uplifting, and almost becomes proto-disco in the chorus without
losing that typically C. K. warmth, even if there's no particular depth to the
message. Even better, though a little less successful on the charts, was ʽNightingaleʼ,
a tight piece of soft funk with a really beautiful chorus of friendly
melancholia and an inventive arrangement (there's an odd recorder-like —
nightingale-like? — lead part throughout the song that adds an odd spirit of
pastoral peacefulness to the tune).
But even apart from the hits, there's plenty of
goodies in store. The title track, for instance, with its stuttering rhythmics,
honky-tonk piano, and over-joyful harmonies, is the closest she'd ever come to
«pub pop» at the time, with intentional musical similarities to ʽRock'n'Roll
Fever & The Boogie Woogie Fluʼ — and the chorus, expectedly, is all but
impossible to get out of your head. Perhaps it is more of a musical joke for
her, like ʽSmackwater Jackʼ, but so much the better. ʽSweet Adonisʼ explores
the good news theme from a power-pop side, while ʽMy Lovin' Eyesʼ is more in
the soul/R&B vein, but both songs have melodic twists in the lead vocal
part that remind you of Carole King's genius far more efficiently than anything
from the previous two albums. Even the slower ballads do the job — ʽYou Go Your
Way, I'll Go Mineʼ (nothing to do with the similarly titled Dylan song) is a
really sharp-edged song about separation, where the verses convey desperation
(I shiver every time she raises her voice on the "with sharp and angry
lies..." line, with all the determination of a sentenced prisoner speaking
her last piece) and the chorus, with an abrupt "well all right!",
pushes the song into a more self-assertive direction; and even though ʽChange
In Mind, Change In Heartʼ «wastes» four and a half minutes on a single vocal
hook, it still makes sense to wait for it; it's a really touching ode to mutual
tolerance and reconciliation, and the «mind / heart» dilemma is handled in
quite a special way.
Of course, none of this should efface the fact
that the record is stylistically monotonous and emotionally simplistic —
despite sharing its occasional moments of subtle sadness, it's largely a very
happy album, as suggested by its title, reflecting a fairly peaceful period in
Carole's life (she wouldn't be divorcing Larkey until 1976), and, like all very
happy records, will never be as exciting and stimulating as albums about pain
and suffering. But there's enough intelligence and simple, tasteful beauty behind
the proverbial shine and gloss, and I dare say that with a more inventive
approach to arrangement and production, Wrap
Around Joy could have easily become and remained a critical favorite. As it
is, it merely returned Carole to commercial success for a brief while, but
that, too, was a pretty happy happening for 1974. Thumbs up.
"and, like all very happy records, will never be as exciting and stimulating as albums about pain and suffering."
ReplyDeleteVan Morrison's Into The Music would be a major counter-example.