Carole King released 10 albums in the 70s, and I couldn’t name a single song from nine of them if you put a gun to my head. Nor could I name a single song on the five albums of original material she’s recorded in the 30+ years since.
But Tapestry, her second solo record — that one I can recite by heart. As can the millions of people who have made it one of the best-selling records of all time.
This will seem like a weird comparison, but I look at Carole King’s 1971 Tapestry as the female Graceland. If the latter is the best album ever recorded by a solo male artist, this is the best album ever recorded by a solo woman. I guess you could say those two albums are the king and queen of my musical kingdom.
It feels odd to write that because it’s not as if I play Tapestry constantly. It’s probably been more than a year since I’ve given it a full listen. But if somebody stops going to church for awhile, that doesn’t mean they stop believing in God. And considering that music and movies are my only religion, maybe that’s as apt a metaphor as any.
Meet Me In Montauk 