Joni's third album starts much like her first two, with guitar and vocals. Sounding elfin and youthful, Joni describes the awakening of 'Morning Morgantown', as "The merchants roll their awnings down / The milktrucks make their morning rounds." A lovely and reassuringly familiar start. But piano, thus far hardly present in her music at all, enters the mix on this first song, as do subtle percussive sounds. These are the first signs of further developments that will ultimately make this album a real departure from her previously super-minimal guitar/vocal soundscape.
Track two, 'For Free' is new territory; the first fully fledged piano-based song in Joni's recorded catalogue. She also sounds self-conscious, even a little guilty, about her status in the 'music biz', a new theme whose implications she would continue to explore as her success grew. It also anticipates the bleak melancholy, underpinned by her distinctive piano feel, which would figure so strongly on her seminal album
Blue.
Drummer Russ Kunkel adds subtle brushwork to 'Conversation', which also uses recorder, flute ('For Free' already having brought in clarinet) and Joni's own ebullient harmony vocals: Joni is stealthily expanding her palette! It also introduces a slightly bitchy vibe, as the note of love is slightly soured by jealousy: she writes of her rival, with typically articulate scorn, "she speaks in sorry sentences, miraculous repentences, I don't believe her"!
The title track sounds, melodically and harmonically, like close-kin to material on her first album, but the degree of maturity and sophistication she's now achieving is on a higher level. And what a wonderful celebration of womankind. What a great subject for a song! Clearly demonstrating that she's more than a narrator of self-indulgent confessional emotional catharsis, she celebrates a gaggle of her female Laurel Canyon companions. How wonderfully this contrasts with the crass materialism and egocentric vanity of most modern pop stars and divas. These canyon ladies ain't about to pop a cap in yo' ass, or diss ya cuz ya ain't bling enuf (or whateva). No! But they may bake you some brownies. And any song that celebrates chubby kids and cats - "And all are fat and none are thin / None are thin and all are fat " - is more than alright with me. Lovely!
'Willy', and later on 'Rainy Night House', dig into the same piano-centric vibes that will characterise a good chunk of Blue, and they are beautiful. But, like Blue, these songs are so shot through with, er, well, blue. This melancholy aspect of Joni's music is a part I find simultaneously alluring, sometimes disturbingly narcotic, and occasionally too much to take.
The intro to track six, 'The Arrangement', is just that, an arrangement. And what a beauty! Hinting at things to come, from
Hejira to
The Hissing Of Summer Lawns and 'Paprika Plains' (
Don Juan's Reckless Daughter). The title is clever, describing both the lyrical content and the side of Joni that is pure composer. It's not exactly 'classical' music as such (nor does it pretend to be), but it's certainly not just pop either. And the lyrics are starkly challenging: "you could've been more" she admonishes, over chords that are neither pop, classical, jazz or any other 'type', but just pure music (the final chord is sublime): sound, chemistry, humanity... genius!
The back-to-back brilliance of tracks 10 and 11 - 'Chelsea Morning' and 'Woodstock' - illustrate Joni's seemingly effortless musicality: one minute she's (pardon the phrase) tossing off an upbeat acoustic 'folksy' ditty, whose darker message - "pave paradise, put up a parking lot" - seeps through despite the ebullient harmonies (and the slightly forced sounding laughter at the end), and the next she's looking to her electric future as she tinkles on (um, sorry again) an electric piano, celebrating the apparent apotheosis of the flower power generation, "down [on] Yasgur's Farm". Despite the optimism of the times, the song is already elegiac, and Joni has us firmly outside paradise: "we've got to get ourselves back to the garden."
I haven't really talked about 'The Priest', or 'Blue Boy' (the latter has to be about James Taylor, surely?), but that just goes to show how much there is on offer here. The proverbial embarrassment of riches! And all this leads to the masterpiece that is 'The Circle Game'. Not amongst her most famous songs, it's nevertheless amongst her best (mind you, her catalogue is littered with jewels). Where 'Song To Ageing Children Come' (on her previous album
Clouds) felt self-conscious, 'The Circle Game' feels totally natural and uncontrived, and yet 'Song To Ageing Children Come' kind of paved the way, preparing the ground, if you like. Backing vocals on this number are by the wonderfully named 'Lookout Mountain United Downstairs Choir'!
Joni's first two album are phenomenally good by any standards, already marking her out as a creative genius with a singular voice, both literally and metaphorically, and with each new release she just got better. They really don't make 'em like this anymore, more - much more - is the pity. Utterly essential.