I discovered the beauty and the brilliance of Joni Mitchell’s music relatively late in life but I vividly remember how it instantly and fundamentally changed and affected me and my understanding of what music is and could be… chords and harmonies and tunings that were exhilarating and mysterious and complicated yet also seemingly simple and perfect; music that seemed to defy genre, hopping seamlessly from folk to pop to jazz to something entirely unique; her mastery of guitar and piano and ability to perfectly judge where each should lead, supported by strings or rhythm section or synths; traditionally predominantly interested in harmony and melody, I realised how, in the right hands, lyrics could paint pictures and weave stories and be extraordinary poetry that somehow simultaneously spoke to me of exotic people and places and of me and my life.
Hejira came first, its stories of travel and restlessness and identity perfectly connecting with me; Blue, of course, came later, and then Court and Spark and Turbulent Indigo and Ladies of the Canyon, and moments of an unbelievable and fragile beauty like For Free and Two Grey Rooms and Amelia.
But for me, it’s her 2002 orchestral retrospective Travelogue that is the pinnacle of her creativity. Her voice, smoke-ravaged and lived-in, is an instrument played by a virtuoso, soaring and breaking, tremulous and powerful. Vince Mendoza’s orchestral arrangements breathe new life into already near-perfect material, rising and crashing and murmuring and supporting. This is an artist at the absolute peak of her powers but stepping back and reappraising and reinventing with an extraordinary confidence and verve. I cannot tire of this and am consistently inspired and awed.
Josh
