Taylor's made to soothe and relax

Descending into the Point Theatre in a giant mothership, amid a blaze of pyrotechnics, James Taylor bounded onstage in a glittering…

Descending into the Point Theatre in a giant mothership, amid a blaze of pyrotechnics, James Taylor bounded onstage in a glittering purple jumpsuit and ski goggles, backed by a booming 20piece band and a sinewy troupe of dancers - I'm sorry, I'll start that again.

Last night's concert by James Taylor (the old folky one, not the acid-jazz quartet one) was as unassuming as the man himself. Nary a backdrop nor a strobe light distracted from the dapper, casually dressed figure of JT and his three-piece combo, as they gently rolled out the hits for a reverent crowd.

For me, James Taylor evokes memories of guitar classes at Rocklands Youth Centre, where Fire And Rain and You've Got A Friend were permanent fixtures on the curriculum. There was always some smug older boy who knew all the finger-picking bits, while the rest of us just fumbled around with the chords.

Later, Taylor became synonymous with bland FM fare, and the voice which had helped a million hippies to mellow out had became a reassuring, big brotherly sop to the yuppie classes. So what's ol' Mud Slide Slim been doing these days, asks a whole generation of grown-up rock 'n' roll rebels who now have the family car parked awkwardly outside the Point Theatre.

READ MORE

He's got a new album, Hourglass, his first studio set since 1991's New Moon Shine, and the songs, he admits onstage, sound pretty much the same as the old ones. Line 'Em Up, An- other Day and Ananas sound indeed like vintage Taylor, except that the subject matter seems to have become even more inane with time.

The band is right in tune with Taylor's easy-picking style, and the man's honeyed voice is still able to pour sweet and slow. Country Roads, Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight and Mexico elicit cheers of delight, and when he performs You've Got A Friend and Fire And Rain in succession, the crowd gives a standing ovation for this double velvet whammy.

At 50, Taylor still has the power to soothe and relax. And he doesn't need any newfangled stage gimmickry to support his songs, but I wouldn't have minded a spark or two to light up the rather soporific atmosphere.

Kevin Courtney

Kevin Courtney

Kevin Courtney is an Irish Times journalist