BLUE JEAN BABY
by Marshall Bowden
Blue
jean music. It's a term that describes the early-to-mid-seventies
style that is piano based, usually by female singer/songwriters
(not always, though), and represents some of the inner searching
that followed the outward, protest-based expressions of
the 1960s. Some call this the "singer-songwriter era", and
there is no question that was a predominant piece of the
pop music pie, but the recordings I'm speaking of evoke
the time in which they were recorded, a time that, in my
mind, was simpler in many ways. Of course, it was not a
simple or even a positive period in many ways, but it's
become clear to me that a lot of folks who were only hitting
their teenage years in the 1970s responded to this music
in much the same way. Witness the resurrection of Elton
John's "Tiny Dancer" after its appearance on the soundtrack
of Cameron Crowe's Almost Famous. The song's use in the film further
demonstrates the connection that these songs made between
listeners, a connection that I think still exists today.
These songs remind me of a couple of cute girls I went to
junior high with. They remind me of the way my father would
speak in hush tones about his concern that the Vietnam War
might not end before I reached draft age. They also remind
me of macrame, of endless days and nights of the Watergate
hearings on TV, of Friday night meals out with the family.
Carole King's Tapestry is the mother of all blue jeans music.
King had labored long and hard in the salt mine of the Brill
Building, writing hit after hit for various vocal groups
with her partner Gerry Goffin. At some point Carole decided
she wanted to write a different kind of song, or at least
hear them performed differently, a way that only she could
perform them. Tapestry is a perfect album, with every
song a jewel, from the opening romp of "I Feel the Earth
Move" to the concluding "You Make Me Feel (Like a Natural
Woman)". "So Far Away" and "You've Got a Friend" are perfect
examples of blue jeans music. They are somewhat sad, melancholy,
but not tragic because there is a sense of belonging that
they communicate that is an essential quality of blue jeans
music. It is the same sense of belonging that cause the
band and groupies to break into "Tiny Dancer" in Crowe's
film. The same sense of belonging that has inspired 22 million
people to purchase the album in its original vinyl format,
or as a CD or a remastered resissue CD. I doubt if you can
find a female who was at least 15 years old at the time
Tapestry was released who didn't own a copy or who
doesn't presently own a copy. King became fairly obscure
pretty quickly after Tapestry even though subsequent
albums such as Music, Rhymes and Reasons,
and Wrap Around Joy were almost as good. Part of
the reason is that the singer-songwriter thing fell into
disfavor.
King
also represents the visual definition of this time and place
on Tapestry's cover, on which she wears (you guessed
it) a pair of well worn blue jeans. Perched on a window
seat, she is barefoot with her cat in the foreground. Just
looking at that album cover will take you back to whatever
your reality was at the time you first heard it, guaranteed.
Another blue jean songwriter is Laura Nyro, although a lot of her music falls outside
the genre as well. Nyro was, like King, a writer of hit
songs for others, but she had few hits herself, partly because
she refused to make commercial concessions in her arrangements
and challenging vocal style. Ultimately this makes her own
performances of her songs stand up much better than the
many covers performed by the likes of the Fifth Dimension
or Blood, Sweat, and Tears. Nyro's masterpiece is Eli
and the Thirteenth Confession (released in 1968, it
predates Tapestry but didn't make the mark the latter
album did), and it is also a pretty blue jean-drenched album.
Not only do classic tunes like "Stoned Sould Picnic" and
"Eli's Comin'" bring you back to the time when they were
recorded, but so do eccentric and interesting songs like
"Timer". It's hard to tell just what the song is about,
but there's no mistaking the piano chords, the angelic female
voice, and the celebratory-yet-melancholy feeling of the
tune--completely blue jeans. There's Brill Building pop
in her work, but there's also the influence of poetry, jazz,
the city of New York, soul, R&B, and Laura's own personal
mythology. "Timer knows the lady's gonna love again/Timer
says the lady rambles nevermore/And if you love me too/I'll
spend my life with you". It is music that makes you feel--and
that is part of the allure of music of this time and place,
with it's heart on its sleeve. You feel something, it is
not disposable.
There is not much of that
type of music around today. The album's final track "The
Confession" blows away every other songwriter, male or female,
of the time with its combination of intimate psychological
detail, day-to-day observation, sexual frankness, sense
of history, and melodic beauty. No one--not Joni Mitchell,
Carole King, or anyone else--could have written this song.
"Love my love thing/Love is surely gospel" she sings into
the grand ending. Thankfully, Sony has seen fit to remaster
this along with two other classic Nyro albums, because the
sound has been their only drawback since they were transferred
to CD. If you don't have this one in your collection, now
is the time.
Nyro produced more wonderful albums, some venturing on blue
jean music, some not. New York Tendaberry, the followup
to Thirteenth Confession,is a personal ode to New
York City, and a pretty good demonstration of blue jeans
music. Many feel it is her masterpiece, and her ultimate
personal statement as well. Christmas and the Beads of
Sweat, released in 1970, completes Nyro's blue jeans
trilogy. By the mid-seventies she was, like most of the
rest of the country, in a slightly different place, as the
album Smile demonstrates. Nyro quit the music business
and sat it out until 1984 when she released her first "mature"
album, Mother's Spiritual. She recorded only sporadically
through the '80s and '90s, and passed away in 1997.
Until recently many forgot that Elton John first arrived in America as a singer-songwriter
in the best blue jeans music tradition. Tumbleweed Connection,
Madman Across the Water, and Honky Chateau
are easily his best albums, because the songs were good,
and Elton presented them simply and with straightforward
dignity;he had not yet become the rock music buffoon that
he would portray for most of the later '70s and well into
the 1980s.
For my money, Madman Across
the Water is the best blue jean album of his, with its
denim-looking cover and its inspired string of songs--"Tiny
Dancer", "Levon", "Madman Across the Water". The piano work
is similar in many ways to that of Carole King, and the
lyrics by Bernie Taupin tapped into the feelings that everyone
had without defining them too clearly. The result is both
uplifting and sometimes sad--"Hold me closer tiny dancer
/count the headlights on the highway /lay me down in sheets
of linen." Nor can one forget Honky Chateau's "Mona
Lisas and Mad Hatters", my personal favorite Elton John
song.
Still, the King of blue jean music (as opposed to the Queen)
has to be James Taylor, whose Sweet
Baby James, released the
year before Tapestry was
also widely purchased by every female across the country.
Taylor combined folk, soul, and rock (the heady blue jean
music trinity) to create songs that were mellow but lyrically
melancholy. It could be argued that this is indeed the first
real blue jean album, but I hold out for Nyro's Thirteenth
Confession even though it isn't quite as squarely within
the genre as Taylor or King. Interestingly, Carole King
played piano on some tracks, and it could well be that she
saw the potential of what Taylor was doing and decided to
do it herself, leveraging a female perspective. Songs like
"Country Road", "Fire and Rain" and the title track take
you places you may not even remember being--I still get
choked up when I hear "Fire and Rain" while eating in a
fast food restaurant.
Then there's Taylor's future
wife, Carly Simon. Her first album, Carly Simon was
released in 1971, and is completely unremarkable except
for the single "That's the Way I've Always Heard It Should
Be". She followed it up with a string of albums--Anticipation,
No Secrets and Hotcakes that explored a sexier,
darker side of the blue jean genre. Not to mention the succession
of ever-sexier album covers that reached a pinnacle with
1975's Playing Possum. I guess Carly is a minor player
in the blue jean music annals, but she still belongs in
there and has plenty of fans.
Then there's Jackson Browne, whose popularity has always eluded me,
but then, as I've pointed out, blue jean music is all about
what makes you feel a certain way, and Browne definitely
does it for some folks. Beginning with his debut Jackson
Browne and continuing through the remarkable albums
For Everyman, Late for the Sky and The
Pretender, Browne defined the California singer-songwriter
as well as contributing some fine songs to the annals of
blue jean music. Try listening to "Take It Easy", "Late
for the Sky", "For A Dancer", or "The Pretender" and avoid
slipping into a reverie of self-reflection that mirrors
what all of America was doing in the wake of Vietnam and
Watergate. Come to think of it, maybe the time is right
for the return of blue jean music.
It's interesting that Joni Mitchell, one of the best and longest lasting of
the singer-songwriters, really didn't create blue jean music
at all--with one notable exception, which is her 1971 release
Blue, an album that still exudes a special magic
even after all the fantastic albums Mitchell has since released.
The album features musicians who played on Jackson Browne
and James Taylor's albums (Taylor himself plays acoustic
guitar on several songs). Blue has turned out to
have as much staying power as Tapestry, and is more
confessional while still remaining universal.
Of course, this isn't all the blue jean music that exists,
but it gives you a sense of what I'm talking about and why
these songs and albums seem to occupy a special place in
the history of American pop/rock music. I could have written
about each one in much greater detail (and probably will
someday). There were lots of imitators and plenty of individual
songs that captured this particular era as well as the above-mentioned,
and there have been blue jeans songs that have been written
years, even decades later (the Dixie Chicks' "Wide Open
Spaces" or Sheryl Crow's "Strong Enough") than these. More
recent songs don't, of course, take you back to the time
that the early '70s tracks do, but I bet in the future we'll
find that another generation has their own version of blue
jeans music that they'll always look back fondly on no matter
what the current fads or critics say.