CAROLE KING: TAPESTRY (1971)
1) I Feel The Earth Move; 2)
So Far Away; 3) It's Too Late; 4) Home Again; 5) Beautiful; 6) Way Over Yonder;
7) You've Got A Friend; 8) Where You Lead; 9) Will You Love Me Tomorrow; 10)
Smackwater Jack; 11) Tapestry; 12) (You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman.
I think that ʽI Feel The Earth Moveʼ is
probably the single greatest Carole King song in existence. Inarguably, it is
her most rocking tune — for all the softness of the arrangement, it rocks
really, really hard: the syncopated piano/bass rhythm creates unbelievably
strong tension, usually reserved for songs that tell stories about how bad it all goes, rather than
declarations of sincere passion. It's one of those "love is a drug and I
need to score" moments, even if Carole herself might not necessarily mean
it that way, but from the opening chords and through all the instrumental
breaks it sounds like she's crying for help — "I just lose control, down
to my very soul" should at the very least be addressed to a psychiatrist,
if not a police officer. The only «tender» part of the song is the "oh
darling, when you're near me..." bridge, but it offers merely a few brief
moments of relaxed tenderness before the shivers start again. (There's a
somewhat similar function of the bridge section in ʽWhile My Guitar Gently
Weepsʼ, I think). The similarity between the wobbling rhythm and an actual
earthquake has been commented upon plenty — but what is really thrilling is
this equation of loving feeling with a panic attack, always a refreshing way to
revisit the age-old subject.
And that is just the first song on what is
unquestionably Carole King's masterpiece — like I said, reducing all of Carole
King to Tapestry is humiliating, yet
there is no question that this record and no other has (a) the highest
concentration of unbeatable pop hooks and (b) some of the grittiest, least
cliched-sentimental moments in C. K. history. Every song here is at least good,
most of them are great, and the lady really shows those mushy
singer-songwriters the gold standard, although few of them ever came close —
James Taylor and Carly Simon only wish they could have even one LP as
consistent as Tapestry. In part,
this is due to Carole still milking her backlog (ʽNatural Womanʼ, ʽWill You
Love Me Tomorrowʼ), but this time, more than half of the songs are newly
written, and they still show the songwriter at the top of her game.
At least James Taylor is said to have been the
reason for ʽIt's Too Lateʼ, written after Carole's breakup with the fellow (she
still got a friend, but something inside has died anyway). The song eventually
overtook ʽI Feel The Earth Moveʼ in radio popularity, possibly because its
emotional scope is simpler and more easily understandable, but «simpler», in
this case, means «even more sincere»: it's a good example of the Big Breakup
Song that, instead of blowing the sad aspects of what's happened up to
ridiculously disproportional heights, simply puts an equation sign between the
tragic and the mundane. The verses are quiet, introspective Latin jazz with one
small drop of melancholia — the chorus is uptempo pop that says it like it is
("something inside has died" is delivered as if the "something
inside" were a dead gerbil), but leaves the melancholia droplet in the
chord change on the "I can't hide and I just can't fake it" bit. It's
a quiet, dignified farewell where the protagonist bares just a tiny spot of
emotion, and your imagination does the rest.
The album is not «conceptual» as such, but its
title, and the first line of the title track — "my life has been a
tapestry of rich and royal hue" — is quite telling, because it has such a
wide emotional spectrum. Optimism here, pessimism there, love confession on the
right, breakup lament on the left — selfless sacrificial devotion of ʽWhere You
Leadʼ replaced with the tormenting self-doubt of ʽWill You Love Me Tomorrowʼ,
anguish and desperation of ʽHome Againʼ adjacent to the martial optimism of
ʽBeautifulʼ; and in the middle of it all, just so you don't end up bored with
all the love songs, comes an Elton John-ian (think Tumbleweed Connection) joke-pop-epic ʽSmackwater Jackʼ that
advocates for gun control, justice, and lynch mobs in the most upbeat manner
possible (Carole King was never much about American history or politics, which
is probably why I find it so fun when she writes a song on one of these
subjects). Anyway, the best thing about all these changing moods is how it all
rings true — the melodies, the arrangements (heavy on piano and guitars, very moderate on strings), and
especially the voice, technically flawed in any genre but capable of expression
in any of them, be it folk, pop, gospel, or rock.
At the end of it all, the little woman
experiences such a leap of confidence that she even sets out to reclaim ʽ(You
Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Womanʼ from the clutches of Aretha — and in a way,
she is better suited to sing the song than Aretha ever was: Aretha sang it like
a powerhouse, which was somewhat at odds with the decidedly «anti-feminist»
nature of the song — Carole sings it the way she originally intended, a song
of... well, let's be kind and say of gratitude
(not of submission, much as any
militant feminist would probably like to condemn lines like "if I make you
happy I don't need to do more"), and it also fits in well with the similar
message of ʽWhere You Leadʼ. Both takes are classic, but the readings are very
different, and my personal preferences lie with Carole's (the same way I
usually prefer Dylan's originals over covers that are more elaborate
technically, but may easily miss all the ambiguous subtleties).
It's all a kind of sonic magic, of course — if
I ever saw "you got to get up every morning with a smile on your face and
show the world all the love in your heart" linked to in a Facebook post,
I'd be hitting the Unfollow option faster than you could share, but when I
hear it sung at the beginning of ʽBeautifulʼ, I can't actually help smiling: I
mean, I might be doomed forever
already, but here's a person that clearly believes what she sings, and even if
she does not precisely practice what she preaches, the strong determination in
this song — coming from such an obviously weak body — is admirable. As is,
well, just about everything about this record, including even its front cover: fat
tabby cats (especially when they're called Telemachus, adding either a Homeric
or a Joycian note to the proceedings, you choose) agree very nicely with
sweaters, bare feet, self-stitched tapestries, and showing the world all the
love in your heart. Thumbs up.
This is a great album, even for someone like me who isn't disposed to celebrate Carole King. Just a terrific pop showcase, seamlessly married to the singer-songwriter/crunchy-granola ethos of the day.
ReplyDeleteThe reason Carole's cat gets such prominence on the cover is because there's someone else in the photo they don't want you to notice. Carole was pregnant with her third child, Molly, which is why she has needlepoint covering her midsection and she's seated a ways from the camera, giving centerstage to Telemachus.
Great review as usual, I love it when artists bring you in touch with your inner hippie. Your appreciation for King's work comes through loud and clear here, but referring to her in the diminutive as "the little woman" seems unnecessary at best, dickish at worst. She's not a hobbit. Even if you only intended to contrast her to the big woman Aretha, well, that doesn't come off too great either, whatever you intended. Maybe consider amending.
ReplyDeleteOh, come on, just relax.
ReplyDelete"Hey, little woman
You're just what I was looking for today
I needed someone and you're just what I was looking for today
Good things seem to happen to you
When you just happen to run across them with your eyes
But if you wait too long, you know that
When you turn around, you'll find you have loved them in life"
Gerry Goffin/Carole King, "You're just what I was looking for today"
This album was everywhere in the early seventies. When I finally bought a copy I didn't play it much. When I read your review all the songs came back to me and have been stuck in my brain ever since. Thanks for the memories. It reflects the seventies perfectly for me
ReplyDelete"Coming from such an obviously weak body" Huh? It's not like she's dying, dude...she was creating life, after all. Great review, as per the usual!
ReplyDelete"Coming from such an obviously weak body" Huh? It's not like she's dying, dude...she was creating life, after all. Great review, as per the usual!
ReplyDelete