Even though I have to admit I was never a huge fan, I went to see Judy Collins at the Belly Up in San Diego over the weekend. She is an icon, after all. But back in the day, you were either a Judy Collins fan or a Joni Mitchell fan – they were sort of the Edward and Jacob of their time (with Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young in the Bella role) – and I was Team Joni all the way.
Joni always seemed sort of shy and waiflike — hunched over, long bangs in her eyes, singing personal songs about love and heartache that sometimes made me gasp in their rawness. It was like she had put my own feelings to music. Judy, on the other hand, had an ice princess quality to her. Her voice was stunning but in a technical rather than emotional way. She had poise and good posture. She didn’t write her own songs.
Well, 40 years older and wiser, at least one of us has changed our tune. At 72 – 72! – Judy Collins is the kind of woman you hope to grow into. She is funny, warm, self-deprecating and unapologetic – and, boy, can she still sing. Her hair is wild, she laughs about her inability to remember things and she throws her lyric sheets to the ground when she finishes a song. She’s got an amazing history – it’s basically the entire history of modern American folk music – and she can talk about sitting at a bar next to a guy named Robert Zimmerman without coming across at all pretentious.
Listening to Judy cover classics like “Diamonds and Rust,” “Mr. Tambourine Man” and “Chelsea Morning” brought me right back to the ‘60s and my adolescence – the two are intertwined even though I was only turning double digits in 1969. There is nothing like music to define the times of your life. And what times those were. Sure, there was great unrest. But there was also great hope. People cared, and the music reflected that.
So, at the risk of sounding like some stereotypical parent, I’m sorry that my children didn’t get to experience what we did. I’m sad they have grown up during a time of such divisiveness in our country, a time when we seem to be going backwards in the fight for human rights. A time when the music is so mediocre.
Every generation believes their music is the best. But, really, will our kids be going to see Britney Spears or Katy Perry 40 years from now? Maybe, in this disposable age, that’s not even a relevant question. But these are the women who are writing the soundtracks to our daughters’ lives. Will the lyrics of their songs empower girls to make a difference in the world — or simply view their bodies as toys?
There are definitely some bright spots sprinkled through the sex song menu of Top 40 radio – Adele, Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way.” And the continuing growth of the Occupy Wall Street movement may mean we are finally emerging from our apathetic fog.
It’s hard to say whether music changes the world, or the world changes music – but, as long as something actually changes, it doesn’t really matter. As for me, I’m looking at life from both sides now.
This column brought back great memories! You also make a wonderful point about the musical role models for our daughters. Thank you.
Music and its vibration is so crucial to our lives! The expressions that arise from it are precious indeed. I too grew up with Joni and Judy, and this article said many of the things I felt also.
Now, more than ever, is the time to express from our hearts. We have grown from the 60s and 70s. Let us acknowledge that growth and let love flow freely. Life is too precious to waste.
Everyone has a gift in her/his creations, It is beautiful to live fully in our truest expression.
The Good Old Days never were and they never will be. Those of us old enough to remember Judy, and Joni, and David/Stephen/Graham and all the rest must remember, that to our parents, these people were drug using, pot smoking hippies – not valuable role models. That part came later as we got older and validated how we came of age. Good art and good music comes with each generation and the best is always great. Don’t worry about our youth and their role models…they too will emerge with time.
I’m also a Joni girl. I think I wore a hole in Blue from playing it over and over again. It set that dark, sultry mood I was looking for alone in my room. I wanted passion and she provided it in lyrics and melodies. I can still recite every word from most (maybe all) the songs … “Sittin’ in a park in Paris, France, reading the news, it sure looks bad, they won’t give peace a chance, it was just a dream some of us had.” Even now, when I hear her songs I get chills. There’s just a fire she evoked that I hoped would never dim. I always wanted to care that much. Adele has that passion, so many others are just fluff. When you mentioned Judy singing Diamonds and Rust I thought of Joan Biaz and the D&R album with her face on the gold cover. Her voice was so pure and she never allowed her listeners to be complacent. Music has defined my life in so many ways and I’ve been proud to be a part of the generation that used it for social change. Eric and I went to see Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young a few years back when Young, disgusted by the Iraq war and subsequent events, got the boys together to rattle some cages. It was an amazing evening rich with sights, sounds, feeling, and (since it was in Conservative Orange County) booing, when the message got too political. I was so glad to see a glimmer of the fire back. They played all their old anti-war songs along with a slide show and names of the war dead flashing on the big screen. It was very poignant. When they played Ohio (emphasizing the “Four dead in Ohio”) and flashed the famous picture of the girl crying next to her fallen friend, tears were rolling down my cheeks. Can you imagine sending your kid off to college only to be shot and killed for demonstrating? The impact of that is so much more intense now that we’re parents. Eric and I walked out of that concert shell-shocked but glad to be shaken out of our complacency. I love those moments.
I love your writing! Keep reminding us to stay passionate.