James Taylor
Piece Hall, Halifax
Thursday 17th July 2026
Legendary singer/songwriter James Taylor took his fans on a trip down memory lane with his All-Star Band. Paul Clarke joins in the mellow vibe.
Back in the seventies, when I was fighting the punk wars, sensitive West Coast influenced singer/songwriters, including James Taylor, seemed to be exactly who we were battling against. Thankfully we all grew up, and emotionally intelligent songwriting of the type Taylor has specialised in for five decades has aged more gracefully.
Taylor is now 78, but unlike another recent visitor to this venue from the same generation, he had retained much of his vocal power, so his still rich baritone delivered the hits much as this mainly mature audience remembered them from first time round in the seventies when he sold millions of records. As you might expect from a veteran like Taylor, he is an urbane frontman full of stories, but some are less wholesome than others.
He starts this show of two halves backed by a slick band of consummate musicians with a trilogy of songs that reflected his battles with drug addiction, which, as he honestly notes, ‘is a big part of my story’. Whenever You’re Ready disguises misery in melody, Rainy Day Man is a backhanded love letter to his former dealer, and T-Bone had images of recovery centres on the big screen.
Taylor wryly said that concluded the educational portion of the show as he leant into a band rightly billed as All Star as they have played with anyone who is anyone in the music industry. At times though, their virtuosity detracted from the essence of the songs, like on classic soft rock Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight, which didn’t really need a sax solo from SNL alumni Lou Marini, lovely as it was. Mexico is MOR by the numbers and just seemed to be an excuse for an overexcited percussionist to work around his massive kit.
Sanity was restored with a beautiful reading of Line ‘Em Up where this lifelong progressive reflected on the final days of the Nixon administration which happened as his career was taking off. He sardonically noted that ‘I never thought I’d find myself saying this, but I miss Richard Nixon’, which raised a knowing laugh in the age of the orange monster.
For a serious artist, Taylor didn’t lack a sense of humour, noting that the moving Millworker was written for Broadway legend and Wicked composer Stephen Schwartz’s only flop. The first half concluded with the extended blues workout of Steamroller, where he included a reference to this historic building and Halifax, much to the crowd’s delight.
After a well-earned break, Taylor and his band dialled down the musical fireworks for a much more intimate second set, starting with Copperline where he reminded us just what a fantastic guitar player he is. Next up was a tribute to long-time collaborator Carole King, where he explained how he first heard all-time classic You’ve Got A Friend at the Troubadour in LA, and not realising he would be playing that song every night of his life, but as he said, ‘you could do a lot worse’. The cameras were up as his splendid backing singers, including his son Henry, swirled round his baritone as the audience spontaneously sang the iconic chorus back to him as one son and dad hugged each other.
They then swung through a typically smart arrangement of Up On The Roof, which King wrote as a teenager with her future husband Gerry Goffin. Sweet Baby James from his 1970 breakthrough second record was written on a road trip to meet his brother’s son, and remained an anthem that struck a chord with any father who listened to it.
Even better was a totally stripped-down version of Carolina In My Mind, which was just perfect for this balmy summer evening with just Taylor, his guitar and four top quality vocalists that lifted it to new emotional heights. Fire And Rain remained his best song as he paid tribute to a friend lost to suicide, which decades later still had a profound impact around this historic quadrangle as four middle-aged mates clung onto each other.
James Taylor is one of those songwriters who makes it look easy, but he’s never been afraid to mine his own darkest times to create tunes that half a century on can still reach deep into your soul.
You can follow James Taylor on FacebookandTwitter.
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Words by Paul Clarke; you can see his author profile here.
Photos by Andrew Twambley. You can find Andrew at hiswebsite
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