Blue – Joni Mitchell

Jane writes:

Last month saw the 50^th anniversary of the release of the album ‘Blue’ by Joni Mitchell.

It’s not a fact I’m keen to hear, as even though I was only 7 when it was released, it still makes me feel really old.  ‘Blue’ was an album I came to quite late I suppose, but once it was in my life it was really hard to imagine it to be otherwise.  I have a deep affection for it and often turn to it when things aren’t all they should be.  It’s like a comfort blanket or a reassuring arm around the shoulder. It’s a place to go to when you need to dig deep and cry your way through stuff. It’s familiar and safe, and every chord or note has something to say that’s distinctive and about life. It’s haunting and brave. It’s a place of solace. It’s bright. It’s occasionally Christmassy. It’s got nerve.

It’s an album that charts a mountain of real life incidents for the writer. Love affairs ending, struggling and new ones starting. Grappling with addiction. Pregnancy and adoption. Lament and loss. Joy and discovery. Temper overflowing. Straight speaking. All manner of life is here.

With the Friday Fix we rarely talk about an album’s worth of songs but its really hard to separate them from each other in this case as they represent the whole of something. A time of life. A lifetime in fact.

Into the midst of all this then comes the title track, ‘Blue’. Its opening line sums up for me everything about the love of music and how it cuts to the soul

Songs are like tattoos you know….

This song is one of those that I really have no idea what it’s about. A person masquerading as Blue. A feeling of depression. A realisation that you go over the same ground and still can’t get to escape the grasp of addiction maybe, or a need for freedom.  The complexity of love. A gift for someone that is troubled or precious or needing to hear something. An offering. It’s rare for me to say this but in a way it doesn’t matter because it’s under your skin. It becomes a part of you this kind of music, and you can’t shake it, or explain it. It’s essentially inked into you.

I’ve been a person of faith for a good while now, and I recognise in me an inability to put my finger on why exactly. I am not a conversion experience kind of person. I’m more a dawning realisation kind of girl, and when asked to explain why I people should believe in God the only response I could offer – and it may be a bit weak – is that my life was better with a sense of God in it than it was without. It matters.  Don’t mis-hear me. I’m not saying easy. I’m not saying simple or truly blessed. I’m not even saying under control. I’m just saying faith is part of me and I can’t shake it or explain it, but it’s essentially inked into me like this song.

Explanation is not always what you need, but assurance of something that sits deep in the soul. Music. Faith. Whatever it is you can go back and find solace in what you’ve grown to be sure of. To rely on what is deep within you. Under the surface. Indelibly written on you.

You can find out more about Joni Mitchell (and the album) here  https://jonimitchell.com/music/album.cfm?id=5