90’s Joni Mitchell.
If we were to stick Joni’s albums on concentric circles of renown, the outer ring would contain “Blue.” It’s the one everybody knows. It’s the one everybody loves. It has the song that’s played on the radio every Christmas that half the people in your car will object to because it’s ‘too sad’—I wish I had a river, I could skate away…No! No! Please! Let me enjoy my gingerbread latte in peace.
“Blue” is raw, exquisite, iconic.
The next ring in might contain “Clouds,” “Ladies of the Canyon,” and “Court and Spark.” There are songs on these albums—Both Sides Now, Circle Game, Big Yellow Taxi—that would sit on the outer ring but for the purposes of this piece, we’ll stick to the albums.
And one more ring in: “Hejira” and “The Hissing of Summer Lawns.”
This is not an exact science but it is, at least, representative of my own swirling path through Joni’s body of work. And there it stopped for a long time. Those albums all have much to give. Some I found took more time to find my way into. Some songs I’m still finding my way into. But here in these albums, I felt I had found the centre; discovered what I wanted to know.
And then in the last year, foreign song titles of hers were being talked about by artists I loved - trumpet players, singer-songwriters and guitar virtuosos. 90’s Joni. A body of work I had yet to discover. What a gift.
Artists that exist in the rarified air of “icon,” blessed with the gift of longevity, will find a significant portion of their catalogue buried beneath the cultural weight of their classics. I wrote more about this here.
It’s the only reason I can think of as to why I had never heard of, or actively searched for, these albums. There was no nudge. Blue got the nudge. Over and over again. From the radio. From “Best of” lists. From music magazines and newspaper articles asking you to reconsider it on the eve of every 5, 10, 15 year anniversary. Hejira, Court and Spark, and Hissing of Summer Lawns, also got the nudge. If not from popular publications, than at least from musician colleagues who would reel with excitement realizing you hadn’t heard these gems or speak a secret language of quotable lines—"No regrets coyote!”—that you knew you must learn for yourself.
That’s why it’s so important to talk about the music you love, tout the artists you discover, engage deeply over the songs that stir your soul. Give it the nudge. Turn someone else on. Little is more powerful and connective than word of mouth. If not for Ambrose Akinmusire, Blake Mills and Brandi Carlile, I might never have discovered this incredible body of work from Joni.
“Passion Play” is mesmeric. I get lost in it when I play it. Like walking through a meditation labyrinth, or staring into the raked concentric circles of a Japanese dry garden. The deeper I go, the more circles I wind inwards, the more I discover and the richer the journey becomes.
love,
David
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