A cello-trained teenager from North Carolina who taught himself hymns, carols, and Woody Guthrie tunes on guitar before decamping to London and Apple Records, James Taylor became a founding voice of the confessional singer-songwriter movement his 1970 breakthrough Sweet Baby James all but defined. His plainspoken, unhurried delivery and finger-picked guitar style — closer to a piano part than a strummed rhythm — turned private breakdowns and small-town homesickness into some of the most enduring soft-rock records of the era.
Taylor named the Beatles alongside Dylan as the two biggest influences on his lyrics, and the connection wasn't just admiration from a distance: he was the first American solo artist signed to the Beatles' Apple Records, and Paul McCartney personally played bass on Taylor's 1968 song "Carolina in My Mind."
listen forMcCartney's spare, melodic solo fingerstyle on the Beatles' "Blackbird" is close kin to the picked, almost-classical guitar figure that opens Taylor's own "Carolina in My Mind" — the very song McCartney played bass on.
Taylor has said flatly that Dylan and the Beatles were "the biggest influences on my lyrics," telling American Songwriter that "Dylan was a revelation" and that "there's nothing like the effect of hearing Bob Dylan with a guitar" singing his sprawling talking-blues epics.
listen forDylan's surreal, stream-of-consciousness talking blues on "Bob Dylan's 115th Dream" shows the kind of loose, narrative songwriting Taylor absorbed; you can hear the same plainspoken storytelling instinct, scaled down to autobiography, on Taylor's own "Sweet Baby James."
"For me, he was the man. Ray Charles," Taylor told American Songwriter, singling out a Charles/B.B. King duet recording of one of his own songs as "one of my favorite covers that I ever got" — a rare case of Taylor naming the specific singer whose phrasing he measures his own against.
listen forCharles's gospel-shout, call-and-response energy on "What'd I Say" is a world away from Taylor's usual hush, but it surfaces directly on his own blues pastiche "Steamroller Blues," where he leans into a swaggering, Charles-indebted R&B growl he otherwise keeps in reserve.