Witness this parade of singer/songwriter heroes who came to Minnesota this spring: James Taylor and his newsboy cap followed Paul Simon and his generic ballcap and Bob Dylan and his cloud of curls.
Dylan won over a Mankato audience with his gravitas, and Simon carried the day in Minneapolis with his graceful musicality and committed vocals. Taylor triumphed Tuesday at Xcel Energy Center in St. Paul with his super-friendly personality, dad jokes and heartwarming songs.
While Taylor may not be as revered as those two giants, he is beloved by baby boomers who grew up on “Fire and Rain” and his remakes of hits like “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved by You).” The 12,000 fans in St. Paul didn’t mind that Taylor’s voice, at 77, isn’t as honeyed as it used to be, but it’s more forceful than Simon’s and less scratchy than Dylan’s — and it’s still as soothing and reassuring as ever.
While those two pillars of popular music mostly let their lyrics rather than their conversation speak in concert, Taylor took a homier, I-wanna-be-your-friend approach. In fact, he was more chatty and more spontaneous than your average vintage rock star in concert. (He said his wife says he talks too much, not that anyone at Xcel Center complained.)
He told a story about his first trip to South America in the 1980s and how his luggage got lost and Gilberto Gil loaned him a guitar in his Rio de Janeiro hotel room on which he wrote “Only a Dream in Rio.” Taylor recalled it was right after the first election in Brazil in 20 years and America supervised. “Of course, we wouldn’t do something like that now,” he said sarcastically.
A longtime activist, Taylor took a couple of political jabs (after mentioning Carole King, he declared “no kings” to huge applause) and told endless dad jokes and zingers about aging (as the singer repositioned his stool onstage, he said his doctor warned him about moving his stool).
Nonetheless, it’s hard to resist Taylor. The Mr. Rogers of rock ‘n’ roll is kind, gentle, patient, compassionate, reassuring. His music and persona are as comfortable and comforting as Fred Rogers’ cardigan and sneakers as he sings about friendship, loneliness, sweetness, smiles, dreams and different places in the world.
Taylor opened his 125-minute concert by road tripping, beginning with “Wandering,” from 1975, and later journeying to, among other places, “Carolina in My Mind” (which earned the first of the night’s maybe six standing ovations), “Mexico” and “Up on the Roof,” his harmony-free reading of the Drifters 1962 hit written by King and her then-husband Gerry Goffin.