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Rating:
A random album by Giacomo Sarto, as we're there, in the so-called average excellence. Never a bad album, that is... The elegance is crystalline, both in his silky and mobile voice and in the performance of his expert Martin six-string, plucked with very well-educated fingers. Of course, to appreciate it, one must have a taste for Californian things, properly of high quality but always with a veneer of radical chic and certainly far from the robust sound of the southern states, or even more so from the psychotic or gloriously "Broadway" sound of the Big Apple.
Then again, Taylor was actually born in the east, in Massachusetts... well, anyway he's a West Coast immigrant, always has been. This album is from 1991 and as usual the title-holder is discreetly but effectively accompanied by the crème de la crème of American musicians, who happily rush to his call because they know they can engage with an intelligent, refined, jazz and blues-tinged soft rock, perfect for their highly professional instrumental brushstrokes.
In the nostalgic "Copperline", the standout track of the work, James recalls the serene and formative moments spent as a boy in the family's usual holiday location. "Down in the Hole" immediately afterwards is quite different: the voice is surprising, unusually tense and heartfelt, pushed to high notes (for him) and full of dismay, in line with the lyrics; the arrangement relies on the sharp electric guitar of the master of masters, Michael Landau.
Taylor's eclecticism is once again showcased by the brisk rhythm & blues "Stop Thinkin’ ‘Bout That" and again by the choral and socially engaged "Shed a Little Light", admirably sung by four voices, with the poor Valerie Carter's voice soaring. "The Frozen Man" instead veers into melodies and combinations of chords already more than explored by our artist; however, his acoustic guitar arpeggiates more musically, recognizable, and welcoming than ever.
"Slap Leather" is a short and very fast rock’n’roll, very orthodox, and filled with words. It paves the way for the conventional, for Taylor, "Like Everyone She Knows", enlivened by a long introduction of his Martin; Brandford Marsalis then paints over it with the soprano, with obvious inspiration as it is one of those Bostonian's compositions that delight instrumentalists like him, as it is full of refined jazz chords.
In contrast, "One More Go Round" is a collected and harmonically "obtuse" rock blues compared to what precedes it, but with a delightful solo by Landau on the electric. Percussion and Cuban rhythms instead for "Everybody Loves to Cha Cha Cha", a title that's a whole program! The subsequent "Native Son" again resembles other things by James scattered on other albums, not so for "Oh Brother" which among country dobro, gospel choirs, rhythm changes, and hand claps is a jumble of excellent execution ideas, moreover deployed on a melodic canvas not particularly memorable.
In closing, the intimate "The Water Is Wide", introduced and varied by the violin, cradles us like a lullaby and certainly bids us farewell from James without jolts. The formidable class of this man, whom I remember incidentally had the incredible audacity to be left by his lovely (an understatement) wife Carly Simon for exhaustion... toxic, is once again reaffirmed in this delightful timeless work.
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