It was the summer of 1971. The headlines of the New York Times were breaking news with excerpts of the “Pentagon Papers”, a series of top-secret Vietnam War documents leaked to the press by Daniel Ellsberg. In popular culture, young women throughout the country were flocking to record stores in unprecedented numbers to buy an album that would remain atop the Billboard charts for the months to follow. In dorm rooms and apartments everywhere, you could hear the turntable spinning, the women unified through a shared listening experience. These were the songs of heartbreak and longing; songs that reflected the love they were falling in and out of. Who was this chart topping artist that was captivating such a large audience? Was it the latest rockstar or teen sensation? Maybe Rod Stewart? Or perhaps it was The Beatles’ Let It Be, holding on to hopes that the breakup was just a rumor? The correct answer, as you might have guessed, is none of the above. These women, no longer romanticizing over teenage crushes, were looking to replace with the idols of their youth with a role model who could guide them through their newfound womanhood. A role model who knew the experiences they were going through and could relate to the emotions they were feeling. Someone like Carole King.
The album in question was, of course, Tapestry. Released on February 10, 1971, it rose to the top of the Billboard charts in June and stayed there for fifteen weeks throughout the summer. The album was also met with critical success. Jon Landau of Rolling Stone said “Carole King's second album, Tapestry, has fulfilled the promise of her first and confirmed the fact that she is one of the most creative figures in all of pop music. It is an album of surpassing personal-intimacy and musical accomplishment and a work infused with a sense of artistic purpose. It is also easy to listen to and easy to enjoy.”
But Tapestry wasn’t the only release of its kind that year. Joni Mitchell and Carly Simon also drew their share of attention. Media outlets went so far as declaring 1971 the Year of the Female Singer-songwriter. In the height of Tapestry’s popularity that summer, Mitchell released her seminal Blue album. The two albums, which undoubtedly are among the most influential in all of popular music, are strikingly similar in many regards. Both address themes of relationships, longing for past lovers, and of returning home. Even more so, both albums were recorded at the same location - the famed A&M Studios in Los Angeles, and featured many of the same musicians (James Taylor played guitar on both albums, as well as Russ Kunkel on drums). And while both are critically revered, it was Tapestry that saw the greatest commercial success. The album stayed at the top of the Billboard 200 for 15 consecutive weeks during the summer of its release and has gone on to sell over 25 million copies. It still holds the record for most consecutive weeks at #1 for a female solo artist.
When asked about why she thought Tapestry was so successful, King replied that it was simply the ‘right place and the right time’. Now, of course, we must not forget that she had already established her career as a hit songwriter, so her success with the album should have come to no surprise. But I don’t think anyone, including King herself, would have predicted the success to come at such a level. What was it about Tapestry that drew such appeal? And what was this “right place at the right time” that caused the album to resonate so strongly with the audience of its day?
I argue that the popularity of Tapestry can be attributed to several factors. The social context of the time, with the rise of the feminist movement, no doubt influenced its success. But also of importance was the evolution of musical taste itself, with a notable shift towards singer-songwriter driven folk rock. These artists and their new sounds were changing the course of popular music, penning their own lyrics with intimate accounts of their personal relationships, hardships, and struggles.
Furthermore, the album was released in a particular era in history when the young women (and men, for that matter) of King’s generation were processing the newly emerging sexual revolution and feminist movements, and learning how these evolving social norms fit into their own lives. Prior to the album’s release, the previous decade was witness to a number of cultural milestones that advanced notions of free love and sexuality. From the rise of “the pill” to the Summer of Love, this young generation was redefining the norms of relationships. But the same decade that brought these exciting new waves of creativity and freedom also suffered from the excesses of substance abuse, and the 1970s began with the unfortunate drug-related deaths of Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin. Reflecting on the passing of these iconic superstars who died prematurely before their prime, their peers knew certain lifestyles of the 1960’s was not sustainable. The generation was ready for a change, ready to slow down their pace and settle into adulthood. Historians argue that King, along with her peers, were helping young people negotiate the social and cultural fallout of the sixties. Their new mellow sound reflected the new lifestyle choices, and provided a music style to accompany this transitional period.
Along this time, there were also significant advancements in the women’s rights movement. Concurrently, women were starting to organize politically and call for equal rights.
Overall, as the 1970s surfaced, the progressive ideals of the past decade were beginning to enter the mainstream. No longer were things like premarital sex and feminism taboo and confined to the radical outskirts and peripheral countercultures -- no longer were young women held back by the social constraints that confined generations before them. The new, everyday woman was now faced with a sense of freedom and power she had not felt before. And yet, despite the new status as an independent woman, she could not escape the powerful forces of love and the heartbreaks that followed. Who would she turn to in these times of need?
Enter Carole King, whom like many of her peers, was becoming a new woman herself and was seeking a fresh start and identity. Having relocated from New York with her two daughters after her divorce from Gerry Goffin, she found a new home in the Laurel Canyon neighborhood of Los Angeles, nestled in the Hollywood Hills alongside a burgeoning community of singer-songwriters. Among her peers were the likes of Joni Mitchell, Crosby, Stills, and Nash.
King had no problem fitting into this new scene. Once again, she started writing songs and found herself playing piano in the band of James Taylor, another prominent young singer-songwriter. The venue of choice for this Laurel Canyon crowd was the Troubadour, a short drive down the hill to the popular Sunset Strip. It was here where one night in November 1970, Taylor encouraged King to perform a song of her own during his encore.
The rest, as they say, is history. During this performance, Carole developed the confidence to step out on her own and in the coming months, she would begin recording the Tapestry sessions.
The songs of Tapestry captured both the strength and vulnerability that women were feeling at the time. It became their soundtrack. She was still writing about the same themes of relationships from her earlier songwriting days at the Brill Building, but this time through a more sophisticated and personal voice. And the women recognized this - she was singing to them.
The album cover of Tapestry itself captures this spirit of the new woman. King, at home in Laurel Canyon, is barefoot and wearing a simple pair of jeans and a sweater. Her hair parted down the middle, leaving her natural curls exposed with little makeup adoring her face. The sun peers through her window as she busies herself with a tapestry. A cat looms in the forefront of the frame. If this picture sounds all too familiar, it is because it was. The Carole King presented to us on the cover of Tapestry was a woman we all knew. It could have been you. Or perhaps your best friend. There was little separating the artist with the everyday. And this imagery was not by accident. The album cover was shot by photographer Jim McCrary, who served as A&M Records’ chief photography in the late 60s through mid-70s. When McCrary saw the cat in King’s house, he asked if he could move it into the picture to create the look he was aiming for. Lou Adler, the album’s producer, admired this decision, stating that "conceptually, he [McCrary] always understood what the person was about and was able to photograph their personality. A perfect example of that is the 'Tapestry' album.... The idea of having the cat, that brought a personal feeling to it."
The album begins with the upbeat, bluesy tune, “I Feel the Earth Move” and over the course of the next eleven songs, a range of emotions, tempos, and styles are covered. From the inspiration and loyalty in “Beautiful“ and “You’ve Got a Friend” to the longing and vulnerability in “So Far Away” and “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow”.
Aside from representing the “voice of the new woman”, the success of Tapestry must also be attributed to King’s shear strength as a songwriter. The album is rooted in the fundamental elements of well-crafted pop songs. Compared to the poetic imagery of Mitchell’s Blue, these were not particularly groundbreaking or revolutionary lyrics, but in their simplicity women found lyrics they could relate to. At the end of the day, King is a master of the craft of songwriting. Even though there is shift towards the more personal writing style, she had not lost sight of the fundamental elements of pop music she developed during her formative days of songwriting in the Brill Building. There are still the catchy hooks and strong choruses that make us want to sing along.
Overall, Tapestry grew in popularity because it was reflective of the social context of its time. But remained such a success over the years because of its mastery of the pop song format. Give it a listen.
