Album of the Week: James Taylor Before This World

For those who are fans, James Taylor's music is kind of like a warm blanket – it's soothing, both comfortable and comforting, and doesn't offer much in the way of surprises.

At this point - hell for most of his career, actually – you know exactly what you're getting when you buy a Taylor album: some light folk rock, shot through with sadness and joy, all delivered by Taylor's seemingly never-changing, warm voice. Before This World, his first album of original material since 2002's underrated October Road, delivers all the things fans have come to love. I suppose you could Taylor is pretty stagnate when it comes to his music, but I think those who love it would argue that's part of his charm – there's comfort in the tunes he delivers.

Before This World really checks off all the boxes you could want from a James Taylor album – from the locational tracks, like highlight "Montana," – where Taylor takes his typical affection for places like Carolina, and transports it out west to his new home – to "Before This World," which finds Taylor going back to themes of time's passage already covered by songs like "Secret o'Life." Even if he's not drawing any new conclusions or offering any new answers, hearing Taylor meander over these familiar paths is a treat.

The album opens with "Today Today Today," a lovely country-tinged number that celebrates the freedom of hitting the road (see "Country Road" if you need proof Taylor mastered this ages ago). The track features some lovely violin-playing (one of the most prominent instruments on the album) and it helps to convey that southern folk feel Taylor has been perfecting for decades. Taylor even joins vocal Boston Red Sox fans like Stephen King on "Angels of Fenway," as he details the storied history of one of America's favorite underdog teams.

Then there is "Far Afghanistan," his most political and ominous sounding song in a long, long time. Taylor sings about the challenges facing both American and Afghani soldiers, and taps into the war-torn history of the rugged country to deliver one of the most personal songs on the album. When he sings about expecting to be derided when he visited, and instead being shocked by how beautiful the country is, it's a lesson to how easy it is to get tied down by misconceptions.

There are lovely musical references to previous works sprinkled throughout the album, like when Taylor transitions into "Jolly Springtime" about halfway through into "Before This World," there is a moment when you think he's updated "Only a Dream in Rio" or something. The best example of the familiarity Taylor does so well comes on the album's two best songs – "Stretch of the Highway" and "Wild Mountain Thyme." "Stretch" is another one of Taylor's traveling songs, but it has some truly lovely horn lines working under the song, and the chorus has a wonderful bit of melancholy to it. Plus, it's funny. If you've ever seen Taylor live, you know he's a terrifically funny guy, and there are some delicious splashes of it to be found here.

"Wild Mountain Thyme" was actually originally released as a live version from the Telluride Bluegrass Festival ages ago, and is one of my favorite Taylor gems, so I was thrilled to see it included here. It's a traditional song that has been covered by everyone from Judy Collins to The Byrds, and Taylor is really the perfect person to deliver this sweet and heartbreaking song, with its simple acoustic phrases and bittersweet lyrics. Taylor has been able to nail this sadness for years, and when he focuses his powers on this classic folk song, the result is staggering. It's the kind of song you could easily believe Taylor actually wrote, instead of being penned in the centuries ago.

In a way, that's Taylor's gift, and he ably demonstrates it on Before This World. Taylor has a sound, and when he's working in that wheelhouse, the results can be incredibly affecting. It's nice to hear after all these years, he has stayed true.

Before This World is out on Concord.

Album of the Week: Tobias Jesso Jr. Goon

You don't hear piano as the lead instrument much these days.

For a while there, Coldplay and Keane were the lead ambassadors of the notion that the piano is still a viable rock instrument, but Coldplay transitioned to the guitar and string sounds championed by U2, and Keane…well, I'm not sure what happened to Keane.

There was a time in the 50s and 60s when the piano was the primary songwriting instrument (hell, it might still be, I'm no musician) for some truly, truly classic songs.

Tobias Jesso Jr. would have fit right in during that era, but on his debut album, Goon, he manages to create music that feels both of its time, and timeless.

Jesso channels a variety of classic rock songwriters on Goon, from Carole King and Harry Nilsson to Jackson Browne and Randy Newman – all writers who were able to produce shimmeringly lovely music from a simple palette. On all but two of the 12 songs on the album, the piano and Jesso's boy-next-door voice are front and center, and he sings with an untrained earnestness that marked so much of the aforementioned artists' best work.

Jesso knows how to push his voice when he wants to – check out the way his comes this close to breaking near the end of "How Could You Babe" as he pleads for understanding from a former flame.

The man is staggeringly capable of writing a hook – "Can We Still Be Friends" has a King piano line that is immediately accessible and infectious, and Jesso pairs it with his best young Paul McCartney plea. "Leaving LA" is another impossibly catchy piano-driven number that quietly builds to a gorgeous choral climax.

"The Wait" and album closer "Tell The Truth" prove that Jesso is as skilled on the guitar as he is on the piano - both are incredibly catchy finger-picked acoustic numbers that sound like they could've come from either Browne or James Taylor in their heydays.

Jesso isn't a complete throwback artist, however, and while he certainly embraces the pop stylings from the 60s, he isn't afraid to bring his own flourishes to the songs.

On "Hollywood" Jesso manages to channel both Newman and Death Cab for Cutie's "Why You'd Want to Live Here" without any of the expected bitterness. It's just him and his piano, singing like he's the only guy in some dive bar on the strip, about to give up on Los Angeles and crawl away. When he brings the horns in at the end of the song, they bleat and blare like they're the first line is his shambling pity parade. There's a little bit of Radiohead in the way the horns cut across Jesso's piano – it's wildly emotive without using any words.

"Crocodile Tears" is hilarious, tongue-in-cheek ode to a ball-breaker who leaves him in ruins that features the best Elton John piano-work this side of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and the electric guitars are straight out of a George Harrison solo – a little strange at first, but it completely fits the song.

Looking back at what I've written so far, you've probably noticed how much I'm referencing other artists in this piece. This could lead you to think if you're already fans of the source material, there's no need to sample Goon. And that's wrong.

Perhaps the most impressive feat on this simple gem of an album is the way Jesso manages to funnel all these influences through his lovesick worldview. He sounds like the young man he is, wiser than his years, but still dumb enough to keep falling in love with the wrong people. In time – one hopes – he'll learn wisdom, but as Goon ably proves, he's further ahead than most.

Goon is out on True Panther Sounds.