B: "Both Sides Now"- Joni Mitchell

January 29, 2017

B: “Both Sides Now”- Joni Mitchell

When you're a kid, the world is color, sound, joy, music, energy, ice cream castles in the air, feather canyons everywhere.

Eventually, maturity clouds our naive bliss. Nothing is simple. Growing up is certainly not for the faint of heart, and it took the eternal wisdom of Joni Mitchell to help me understand this.

“Both Sides Now” found me at a time when life’s illusions began to erode my childhood innocence. I had known the song in passing from Judy Collins’s equally lovely rendition as a youngster, but I never truly listened to what it was trying to tell me until some time later. For me, "Both Sides Now" was/is a coming out anthem. Joni's masterpiece is unique in its self-discovery message. Finding yourself doesn't always mean things become clearer.

Coming out was not as liberating an experience as it is (and in theory should be) for many others. I was a ripe old 22 when I allowed myself to even acknowledge that I had a sexuality. When it was clear that gay was the way, reality was no longer avoidable. The story’s been told a million times before. My family took it just fine.

In a peculiar twist, my friends were generally terrible about it (not all, of course, but many). Granted, you can freely choose and lose your friends. Still, it’s difficult to experience those you’ve confided in so deeply betray my trust through a long spell of outing me to strangers, endless AIDS remarks, gaslighting, and a variety of other, far more damaging physical and psychological offenses that simply aren’t worth discussing here. I struggled, and still do, to find value in friendship and relationships, but that’s between my shrink and I. Joni got me through all that.

During that time, the last two verses of "Both Sides Now" put me in a chokehold. I'd looked at love from both sides now. Old friends said I'd changed. Something was lost, but something was gained. I remember nights of laying on the floor, looping this song ad infinitum, and absorbing the velvet of Joni’s voice, which took me by the hand and guided through rough terrain. Her uncanny ability to reach into my brain, siphon my emotions, reassemble them and express them in words I couldn’t formulate allowed me to decipher those feelings, and more importantly, accept them. Still, having come out, I didn't necessarily feel better or more fulfilled. I was, in fact, riddled with greater fear and doubt. 

I still knew it was right.

I've looked at clouds from both sides now.
Look up at the sky that Joni refers to often in the song. The intricacies of the world below reflect in the clouds and sun, the tensions between light and dark, the occasional luminescence. Both sides, up and down, Earth and sky, are complicated beyond binaries and comprehension and resolution. Pain is complex. Desire is complex. Joy is complex. Biology is complex. Simplicity is one of life's illusions. The uncertainties of the world give us balance.

There's a tender hopefulness in Joni's voice as she sings "I really don’t know life at all".

Maybe it’s better if we don't.

- Josh

BOTH SIDES NOW

Rows and flows of angel hair 
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
I've looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on everyone
So many things I would have done 
But clouds got in my way

I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down and still somehow
It's cloud's illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and ferries wheels 
The dizzy dancing way you feel
As every fairy tale comes real 
I've looked at love that way 

But now it's just another show 
You leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know 
Don't give yourself away 

I've looked at love from both sides now 
From give and take and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all

Time to Girl up: Songs of Empowerment on Women's March weekend

January 21, 2017 is already in the books. The Women's March was a profound moment of activism in world's history. Though my participation was in a very small scale local march, the experience was still electrifying and moving. I can't imagine how incredible this must have been in the major cities.  No matter what your stance or purpose for marching, anyone who had even a microscopic involvement in the Women's March should be proud. Our elected officials need to start having accountability for their words and their actions. It's long past time for honest voices to be heard.

Here are five songs that were on my mind all weekend and will help us keep fighting the fight. All songs are written by women and sung by women. Happy Women's March weekend.

1. Joan Armatrading - "Join The Boys"

("Are you in? Are you out?")

Taken from her wildly underappreciated 1976, Glyn Johns produced debut album, this funky track empowers female musicians to saddle up and join the boys club. Yet, taken out of context, the words remain stirringly relevant to the cause. And it's got a damn good groove.

2. PJ Harvey - "The Glorious Land"

("Oh America. Oh England. How is our glorious country sewn? Not with wheat and corn.")

Polly Harvey flies under the radar for many. She is an indisputable musical genius, with a rather patchy catalogue of albums spanning these last 25 years. Her 2011 album, "Let England Shake" is a masterpiece of the highest order, one of my favorite albums of this decade. Harvey used numerous outside sources to form the lyrical context of this work, including Russian and Middle Eastern folk songs, and poetry written by various anonymous soldiers during WWI. Not as flagrantly optimistic as my other choices, this song, and the entire album as a whole, is perhaps more cautionary tale than empowerment anthem. But the impact is undeniable.

3. Laura Nyro - "Save the Country"

("I've got fury in my soul...")

I'm bothered by people who feel Laura Nyro does not belong in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She is responsible for a staggering number of 60s classics for many different artists and every one of her albums is breathtaking. Her influence is felt in nearly every female songwriter around today. Of course, there are countless other women who deserve to be in the Hall as well, but should we remove such a genius on account of them? Certainly not. And, how anyone can say she's less deserving than Jimmy Cliff (whom I love, but whose induction no one ever complains about) or Bill Withers is curious to me.
Soapbox aside, Laura is the real deal. That bold, brassy voice is too much for some, but her songs have a raw, earnest, even flamboyant quality that defy pigeon-holing. I was obsessed with her in college and she occupies a very special place in my heart. "Save the Children" is the centerpiece of her "New York Tendaberry" album. Her music speaks for itself.  It's some of the most arresting pop music ever recorded.
This video is a treasure, as it's one of the only videos (along with the Monterey Pop film) of Laura performing that exists today.

4. Judee Sill - "Soldier of the Heart"

("Soldier of the heart, I'm marching with you...")

Sill is one of the most tragic figures in all of Rock and Roll; the stuff of urban legend. While she's never exceeded that of a cult figure, much more has been written about her foibles and troubled background, rather than the unique passion and haunting baroque complexities of her music. Yes, her story is fascinating, through all the drugs, crime, mental illness, and untimely death (look it up). But not enough people are familiar with her two landmark 70s albums, "Judee Sill" and "Heart Food". Her voice is just the right combination of twang and tenderness that makes songs like "The Kiss", "Jesus Was a Crossmaker" and "Crayon Angels" eternally moving.
This gospel-tinged song may be the most up-tempo track in her catalogue...complete with a guitar solo! It's 70s production seethes. But God, that melody. Coupled with those fun lyrics. Perfection.
If you've never heard of Sill, get both her albums now.

5. Patti Smith - "People Have the Power"

("People have the power to redeem the work of fools.")

An obvious (and fairly cheesy) choice, but a necessary one. Never into Patti that much, but she's an important figure. Throw your fist in the air, march down that street and let this song ring in your head.

Love to all.

- Josh

"Space Oddity"- David Bowie

My relationship with Bowie was never as robust as I always felt it should have been. My introduction came at age 9, though not in the usual “Labyrinth”-ine ways. This was around the time I’d presumed to have seen and heard it all musically, thanks to the scouring of my father’s exhaustive record collection. MTV and VH1 were all but banished from the house until I was a teenager, so to satisfy my ongoing quest for a visual aid to my beloved tunes, I settled on the bottom-rung alternative, MOR Music. The QVC of music television, producers would intersperse classic music videos with “hosts” pleading you to call the number below and order the corresponding album. The channel was short-lived, but its influence on my music formation prevailed.

Tangent aside, I would watch MOR Music every morning while getting ready for school. While usually imbued with likes of the Bay City Rollers and David Cassidy, I took pause at a random, unfamiliar name uttered from the host’s mouth, a new David.

My curiosity quickly turned into captivation as the usual fluff was replaced by antiquated computer symbols, and a gangly looking guy with no eyebrows, feathered, multicolored hair and a sequined shirt singing to someone named Major Tom. As a burgeoning queer kid, the cryptic flamboyance was almost too exciting to bear. As a Trekkie, the sci-fi atmosphere was totally compelling. And as an already established music snob, the music was damned powerful.

That night, I asked my Dad about this Bowie character and why he doesn’t have any of his records. His response threw me.

“Never cared for him much. His voice doesn’t really do it for me.”

And that was that for about 15 years, until I voluntarily took the plunge into the world of Bowie albums somewhere in my early 20s. Some I loved (“Hunky Dory”, “Heroes”), some I hated (“Pin-ups”, “Diamond Dogs”), and most I merely liked. While I was absolutely rewarded by the experiencing of his albums, part of me felt as though I missed the Bowie train during my formative years, and that perhaps Dad was right all along. His brazen challenging of gender roles, often through the filter of science fiction is everything I ever dreamed of. But I often find much of his music impenetrable, and its elusiveness was a mystery to me. Perhaps that’s point of it all. Sometimes genius needs to be taken in smaller doses.

“Space Oddity” is certainly not my favorite Bowie song. It is not even my favorite space-themed Bowie song (both of those honors go to “Life on Mars?”). However, it is certainly important to both myself and the world at large for bringing attention to this challenging, enigmatic and still somehow accessible artist. The story resonates, the structure is entirely unique and effective, and it is a sheer masterpiece of mood. Listening to it in 2017, the sound holds up, despite the layers of mellotron and clunky sound effects. Bowie achieved an ambiance that has never successfully been duplicated.

David Bowie is not an immediate go-to artist for me. However, I find myself ceaselessly rewarded by the soundscapes and melodies whenever I take one of his discs for a spin. As the years progress, I'm gradually catching up. It’s impossible to truly process how many barriers he broke as a visual artist, and his genius for instrumental music, composition, lyrics, singing, and even acting is as far-reaching as the galaxy.

Happy 70th birthday, David. We really miss you back here on the ground.

- Josh

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYYRH4apXDo