Why Carole King never enjoyed touring: “I really tried to balance my life”
The gloss of life on the road has slightly worn off with the advent of social media. Now, with a view into the day-to-day lives of modern bands, we see that the reality of touring is more gruelling than it is glamorous.
Sex, drugs, and rock and roll have been replaced with sleep, water and sausage rolls, as bands bounce from venue to venue, in overpriced rental vans and unaffordable Travelodges.
The shows provide an obvious respite from the struggle, allowing bands to release their frustrations and, more crucially, connect with their fans. But outside of that, the entire process is gruelling as it presents the only financial lifeline for artists under increasing pressure. So the blissfully ignorant days of off-stage hedonism are largely extinct.
This new, conscious reality might be hard to fathom for music fans of a certain age. Life on the road has been mythologised for centuries, through tales of debauchery and hedonism that imply life as a musician makes you a lawless rebel. Whether it was throwing television sets out of hotel windows, engaging in elaborate backstage orgies or consuming limitless amounts of high-quality drugs, we viewed the lavish yet dangerous life of musicians with envy, fuelled by the rose-tinted view of nostalgia.
But even in the heady 1970s, when the likes of David Bowie, Iggy Pop and Robert Plant were adding to the myth of life on the road, artists like Carole King were becoming disillusioned with the whole concept.
“I never was a big fan of the road,” King explained, adding, I really tried to balance my life.”
Ultimately, King was an artist’s artist, who spent most of the 1960s as a songwriter rather than a fully fledged performer. She was inherently comfortable within the four walls of the studio, where her ideas could be explored with intimacy and care, rather than getting lost in the flamboyance of performance.
But as her star began to rise and the cultural impact of her seminal record Tapestry began to weave its way into the cultural fabric, she found a way to adapt her performance style to suit her needs. Unphased by the trappings of off-stage glory, she used the tour to empower her musical ideas to become something separate from the record.
She continued, “That said, of course, I miss some things about it. I miss playing onstage with a band, which I’m obviously going to do at the Rock Hall. And I miss the camaraderie of being on tour. You’re a little family. I’ve toured with James [Taylor] and that was great. I had my team and he had his, but then they were blended. It was pretty amazing.”
King mastered the art of live performance by trusting her own sense of vulnerability. While the 1970s was rife with performers adopting whatever elaborate persona they could to maximise the drama of their live show, there still remained space for artists like King. Artists whose shows were nothing more than an unfiltered celebration of music.
