Posted on: Sunday, October 28, 2001
Concert Review
James Taylor spreads warmth, nostalgia through Blaisdell
By Wayne Harada
Advertiser Entertainment Editor
A James Taylor concert is much like a school reunion: full of reflection and connections.
And last night's show, at Blaisdell Arena, was quite a party, with friends checking up on each other, fans sizing up ol' Mr. Mellow, who was winding up a year's worth of traveling.
OK, the rains didn't help, prior to showtime; also, with Take 6 swinging with the Honolulu Symphony next door, parking was at a premium and delays were inevitable and, yes, irritable.
The Taylor reunion started about 25 minutes late (on Hawaiian time) but once it began, it was ripe with romance. Kind of a feel-good celebration, that didn't assault your senses. You heard the words, you swooned to the instruments, you mouthed the lyrics.
And you embraced Taylor, who last played Hawai'i in the mid-'90s, even if he's a formulaic stylist who adheres to the safety of his comfort zone. That is to say, his song list rarely includes something you've never heard (there were two previews, however, of yet-to-be-recorded originals) and nearly everything sounds like the song just played.
He even admitted to the sameness quotient.
Still, it's a signature that he scribbles well, constantly relying on his stellar seven-piece band and three-voice back-up combo, generous in praise and in solo time for his on-stage family.
His get-up also is predictable: a blue long-sleeved chambray shirt, worn over tan trousers; a blue short-sleeved polo shirt after intermission.
But within this territory, Taylor crafts his art with nary a detail missed. He is a storyteller, first and foremost, so his ballads always have meaning and substance, sometimes unintended.
Take "Shower the People," with lyrics like "shower the people you love with love, show them the way with the way ... things will be much better." It's got to be the song of solace for most Americans now. You recall, Taylor was one of the aces in that TV fund-raiser, "America: A Tribute to Heroes," and here, he is heroically sharing his own healing methodology.
"Fire and Rain," one of his tribute songs, also was another source of angst-release, as was "You've Got a Friend." The latter, a hit for both Taylor and its co-composer, Carole King, was a favored sing-along among the sell-out crowd of nearly 6,000 (the full arena seating was not utilized), making it an unscheduled anthem.
Who doesn't know the lyrics?
And that is the stamp Taylor has left on the American landscape. His folksy takes on ballads that relate an intimate moment or a curious tale have become imbedded in the minds and memories of fans of all ages.
"Copperline." "Everyday." "Carolina in My Mind." "Whenever I See Your Smiling Face." "How Sweet It Is." "Up on the Roof." "Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight."
These weren't just rehashes, they are freshly revived for a more mature Taylor and a graying fan base. Yes, a lot of older folks were in the house.
So was Graham Nash, of Crosby, Still & Nash (& Young), who got up to do back-up vocals during "Mexico."
You also could form an all-star band from the gallery of admirers that included the likes of Henry Kapono, Kapono Beamer, Sean Naau'ao, Brother Noland, Jimmy Borges, Keli'i Kaneali'i, Mary Gutzi and more.
Of the newer tunes, "The Fourth of July" had the characteristic Taylor mellowness and warmth. In other words, more of the same that he's been doing for decades.
The stage was set like a series of picture frames, bathed in various colored lights, with a plethora of high-tech lights sending either ribbons of rainbow hues or kaleidoscopic patterns onto the stage and into the house.
