It's not exactly going out with a bang.

Rather, it will be a gentle goodbye to the Mellon Arena when James Taylor and Carole King perform what is expected to be the final show ever at the Igloo on Saturday night.

It is billed as an encore performance for the folk legends, who played the arena together just one time, on Feb. 26, 1971.

He arrived to that dance with a lone hit, "Fire and Rain." She had already scored a few dozen as a songwriter, going back to the 1961 chart-topper for the Shirelles, "Will You Love Me Tomorrow," when she was only 18.

A Post-Gazette preview of that show touted James Taylor as "the troubadour for the new age." Although his sound was soothing and heartfelt -- in contrast to the harder acid rock that dominated Woodstock a year or so earlier -- the shades of darkness in his lyrics hinted that his road to stardom was anything but easy.

His father was an esteemed physician, his mother a music conservatory teacher. When his father took a dean position at the University of North Carolina, they moved from Boston to the peaceful rural landscape that would temper his songs.

All was not well, however. In his later high school years, when he was on more of a rock 'n' roll path, he was hospitalized with depression. During the mid-'60s, when he relocated to New York City and was frequenting the Greenwich Village music scene with Danny Kortchmar, he slipped into heroin addiction, and had to be rescued by his father.

Eventually, like Paul Simon and Jimi Hendrix, he chose to pursue his music ambitions in England, where in short order his songs were heard by the A&R rep for the Beatles' new label Apple Records. He became the first American act signed to the label and, in the summer of '68, he was recording his debut album at Trident Studios while the Beatles were recording "The White Album."

Although two of the songs would become Taylor standards -- "Carolina in my Mind" and "Something in the Way She Moves" (which inspired George Harrison's "Something") -- he failed to chart a single from his self-titled debut due to a relapse back into addiction that prevented him from touring.

Upon his recovery, in late 1969, he signed to Warner Bros. and moved to California, scene of the emerging folk-rock movement, where he started work on "Sweet Baby James," with Ms. King on piano and vocals. The lead single, "Fire and Rain," addressing his psychological demons and the suicide of his friend, Suzanne, became a No. 3 hit and his signature song to this day. It also addressed the failure of an early band of his called The Flying Machine.

"Lookit, I been in and out of mental institutions, strung out on drugs, and living with friends for the past five years," Mr. Taylor told The New York Times in 1971. "I'm not strong right now to be blown up to superstar proportions. It may destroy me."

Nonetheless, the album also went to No. 3 and earned him a Grammy nomination, a glowing review in Rolling Stone and a Time magazine cover story at a time when the singer-songwriter era was blooming with such artists as Joni Mitchell, Jackson Browne, Neil Young, the solo Beatles and, of course, Carole King.

A few years older than Mr. Taylor -- she's 68, he's 62 -- Ms. King made her name as a Brill Building songwriting sensation with then-husband Gerry Goffin, scoring dozens of hits, starting with the Shirelles song and including "The Loco-Motion," "Pleasant Valley Sunday," "Up on the Roof" and "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman."

It was Mr. Taylor who would inspire her to step forward and sing her own songs. She became a member of his touring band and he encouraged her to take center stage for a few songs on her own.

Her blockbuster second album, "Tapestry," was only three weeks old when she played that Arena show, so there was no sense yet of how big it would blow up. The first single, "It's Too Late," didn't chart until May. It was quickly followed by "I Feel the Earth Move" in June, keeping the album at No. 1 for 15 consecutive weeks -- a record for a female artist -- and driving it to sales of more than 25 million worldwide.

One of the many standards on that album, "You've Got a Friend," was covered by Mr. Taylor as the first single for his third album, "Mudslide Slim and the Blue Horizon," and became his only No. 1 hit.

Ms. King only got one graph in the review of the '71 show, saying she "endeared herself to the crowd" with her backlog of hits. Mr. Taylor hit the stage, oddly enough considering his stark image these days, in a blue sequined jacket and played just under an hour. He was described as a performer who "puts little effort, although much feeling, into his songs." During "Fire and Rain," the crowd "gushed with satisfaction."

"He was just one the greatest people to deal with," says Pat DiCesare, who promoted the show. "He was so calm and easy-going, and that's how he was on stage. If everyone was like him in this business, it would have made life a lot easier."

Mr. DiCesare says the suggestion to book James Taylor at the arena came from a member of Tommy James' band, the Shondells, who had seen the folk artist elsewhere. The promoter was thinking it would be a Syria Mosque concert until he called the agent. "He said, 'You gotta do the arena,' and I really thought he was crazy." It ended up drawing nearly 12,000 fans and grossing almost $54,000.

Actually, it wasn't Mr. Taylor's first time at the arena -- he opened for Chicago in 1970 -- and it wouldn't be his last. He returned in 1974, the year he did "Mockingbird" with wife Carly Simon, topping a bill with Linda Ronstadt and newcomers America. By 1980, his popularity began to fade slightly, and he downscaled to the Stanley Theater, until his final hit, "Her Town Too," put him back in the Arena in '81 (and then '88, thanks to classic-rock radio).

Ms. King was never the active troubadour that he was, and her concerts here have been few and far between. She did a sold-out two-night stand at the Stanley Theater in '76 on her "Thoroughbred" tour that a PG reviewer described as "boring," concluding "she should stick to songwriting" (that review also described her as "frizzy-haired" and "not an exceptionally attractive person," so there may have been other factors at play there). She also played the Syria Mosque in 1989 when she made the comeback album "City Streets," and then didn't tour for a decade between 1994 and her 2004 Living Room tour.

Three years ago, the pair reunited to perform as part of the 50th anniversary of the L.A. club the Troubadour, where they used to hang in the early '70s. Those shows, captured on the intimate set "Live at the Troubadour," which debuted at No. 4 on the charts, became the impetus for the current tour which began in May and rolls through July.

They spend nearly three hours on stage together in the round, swapping songs and stories, joined by longtime guitarist Mr. Kortchmar and other longtime friends, bassist Leland Sklar and drummer Russel Kunkel.

"It's like we went away and had a lifetime of performing and experience, and now we're getting together," Mr. Taylor told the Times recently. "That's the energy of a reunion."

Ms. King added, "I was a little concerned about my vocal stamina, but that seems to be there. But it's a very high-energy show. I'm doing the Carole King earth-move workout out there."

Judging from the live record, there's a little wear and tear on her vocals, but there are more than enough flashes of her "Tapestry" greatness. As for Mr. Taylor, his ageless voice still sounds like it's coated with honey.

In the PG review in '76, Barry Paris remarked, "That voice, let's face it, has a warranty good through 1997."

As a rule, 30-year warranties are pretty good. Sweet Baby James has managed to keep it in nearly perfect working order long past the expiration date.

First Published: June 24, 2010, 8:00 a.m.