Writer is the most underrated of all of
Carole King's original albums, in that it was completely ignored when it came out in 1971 and didn't really start to sell until
Tapestry whetted everyone's appetite for her work. It's an album of its time, in both
King's life and career, and the music of its era -- singer/songwriters were still something new, and in 1970, it was assumed that anyone in rock had to tend toward the extrovert and flashy to attract attention. Thus,
Writer has a somewhat louder sound than the relatively lean, introspective strains of
Tapestry which followed. "Spaceship Races," which opens the record, features
Danny Kootch Kortchmar playing full-out electric guitar, chopping and crunching away with his amp turned way up, and
King belting out a number behind his bluesy licks that makes her sound like
Grace Slick and the song come off like a pounding (and good)
Jefferson Airplane number of the same era, with a great vocal hook at the end of the verses. "No Easy Way Down," with its soulful instrumental and backing arrangement, calls to mind not only her own "Natural Woman" as done by
Aretha Franklin, but also (in terms of New York white women belting out soul)
Laura Nyro at her best, and it's also a great tune with a killer performance by
King, whose wailing voice is extraordinarily powerful here. "Child of Mine" is the closest that the album gets to the voice that she found on
Tapestry, while "Goin' Back" gives a more personal and elegant take to a song that is otherwise thoroughly identified with
the Byrds; and "To Love" has
King diving into country music, which she pulls off with exceptional grace, the song's title referring to a beguilingly innocent and free-spirited chorus that, once heard, stays with you. Even the least interesting of the songs here, "What Have You Got to Lose," is unusual in the context of
King's overall work, with its heavy acoustic rhythm guitar, soaring backing vocals, and
King's bold near-falsetto on the choruses. And that's just Side One of the original LP -- Side Two opens a little more slackly with the beautiful, reflective, but slightly too languid "Eventually," and the delightful "Raspberry Jam," which offers a soaring guitar showcase for
Kortchmar (whose playing intersects the sounds of
Roger McGuinn and
David Crosby off of
the Byrds' "Eight Miles High"), and a head-spinning, swirling organ from
Ralph Schuckett weaving below and around
King's piano, plus one of
King's most playful vocals on record. The album ends on a special high note,
King's singer/songwriter-styled reinterpretation of "Up on the Roof," which anticipates the sound she would perfect for
Tapestry, emphasizing words and their feeling and meaning as much as music, and expressing herself principally through her voice and piano, moving the band out of the way. Ironically enough, if
Writer had been released by almost any other artist, it would command a near-top rating and probably be a fondly remembered period cult item today; instead, for all of its merits, it must stand in the shadow of
King's more accomplished and distinctive work that followed -- but even slightly "off-brand," under-developed
Carole King music from 1970 is still worth hearing today. ~ Bruce Eder