Επειδή έγραψα χτες το κείμενο, ήμουν χαλαρή ότι έχω δύο μέρες να προτείνω χαχαχαχ. Έβαλα πάντως, χωρίς καν να το έχω σκεφτεί, για να δούμε…
@JTN Χαίρομαι που σου άρεσε το Blue, ακόμα κι αν δεν ξετρελάθηκες- δεν είναι αυτός ο στόχος απαραίτητα άλλωστε. Προσωπικά είναι ο αγαπημένος μου δίσκος της Μιτσελ και τον έχω συνδυάσει με κρύα χειμωνιάτικα πρωινά κι αγάπες κι έρωτες. Η άποψη της φίλης σου στο μεταξύ ήταν πράγματι πολύ εύστοχη. Αφήνω κι αυτόν τον οδηγό εδώ, που μου φάνηκε να έχει ενδιαφέρον και παραθέτω αυτούσιο το κομμάτι για το Blue
Summary
By the time Joni Mitchell released Blue in 1971, she had survived polio, a divorce, put her baby up for adoption, fended off another marriage proposal (from Graham Nash), and watched as one of her songs, Both Sides Now, became a massive hit for someone else. She had, in short, seen a lot in her 27 years.
Mitchell has told of the power of her fourth record better than anyone else ever could hope to. “The Blue album, there’s hardly a dishonest note in the vocals,” she told Rolling Stone in 1979. “At that period in my life, I had no personal defences. I felt like a cellophane wrapper on a pack of cigarettes. I felt like I had absolutely no secrets from the world and I couldn’t pretend in my life to be strong. Or to be happy. But the advantage of it in the music was that there were no defences there either.”
There is not one single track on this album that is not magnificent. And it was an audacious record in many ways. The emotional life of a young woman had never been put to tape so nakedly and so unapologetically – from the wretchedness of giving up a child (Little Green), the mocking of men who laugh at the follies of young women who want “roses and kisses and pretty men to tell you all those pretty lies” and end up a wife with a coffee percolator (The Last Time I Saw Richard), and trying to find emancipation in love affairs (“I love you when I forget about me”, on All I Want).
The music is as bold as its subject matter. Her hands damaged with polio, she made up her own guitar tunings. Her soprano, borrowing often from jazz phrasing, is thrillingly alive; there is no resolution with a neat pop harmony. Listen, and you have your own secret desires articulated.
The characters within the songs are vivid and complex. Take A Case of You, a love song written in the past tense, a dialogue with her former lover Leonard Cohen. It opens with the line stolen from Cohen, who was quoting Julius Caesar at her. He was mad she had used their private conversation in song. “Life is fair game” for lyrics, she said. She drinks up a lover in full, and emerges from the relationship clear-headed, still standing.
The weight of the public consumption of her inner life, and those of the other singer-songwriters from the Laurel Canyon scene, would be hard for her to bear at times. But in spearheading music that looked towards the emotional life of its makers, she created an enduring bond with her listeners.
Mηνγουαιλ, έμεινα μια βδομάδα πίσω, αλλά ιδού
Να σημειώσω πως το Keep Shelly in Athens, ενώ μου άρεσε και ήταν όμορφο, είναι κάτι που δεν θα επέλεγα ποτέ να βάλω στο σπίτι. Θα μου άρεσε να είμαι έξω και να παίζει στο background δηλαδή, αλλά όχι εντός. Εξ ου και το κομ σι κομ σα. Έκανα και μια φιλότιμη προσπάθεια να ακούσω του @QuintomScenario, αλλά δεν ήμουν καθόλου σε τέτοιο μουντ. Και υπήρχαν και 5-6 που είχα ήδη ακούσει. Το Earth εντωμεταξύ ένιωθα ότι το έχω ξαναπροσπαθήσει, το έβαλα, δεν ακούμπησε, σε μερικά χρόνια θα αναρωτιέμαι πάλι. ;p Αυτά.