Joni Mitchell
Both Sides Now

THE REVIEW

On the cover: Joni Mitchell (painter, 1943) "Self-portrait of an indestructible woman, but very dissatisfied". This is the caption I would put under this image, and I would also associate it with this indecipherable record, which has the power to trigger a conflict between ear and mind within me.

On one hand, there is the ear, greedy and gluttonous, which would like to bask for three hours in the majestic and powerful sound of a great jazz orchestra, enjoying the perfection reached by the voice of the older enchantress Joni, now at ease even in performing a beautiful and not too predictable selection of songs from times gone by, real standards from the '30s, '40s, and beyond. Sometimes the signatures are of renowned authors like Hart-Rodgers or Koehler-Arlen: the latter's classic "Stormy Weather" is more famous in the versions of Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald...and I'm saying a lot. Other times the authors have more obscure names, but it's always material of great class. The sequence of these classics is also intelligent, representing the different phases of a love relationship, from the initial spark to disillusionment. Other valid arguments for the ear's reasons are provided by the precious appearances of Wayne Shorter on the sax (soprano and tenor) and Herbie Hancock on the piano, even if the latter only appears on one piece.

But music is not only listened to with the ears, but also with the mind, or, as romantics say, with the heart. From the first songs, the instinctive tendency towards pleasure is disturbed by a barrage of pressing questions: - What sense does this record make? What is its purpose? What does it intend to prove with such a record that the greatest of singer-songwriters, after more than 30 years of career in which she has built a solid credibility, and one that lasts, with HER music and HER lyrics? I have no idea. A similar set-up record comes to mind: "Songs From The Last Century" by George Michael. He, too, plays the old crooner, managing at least to demonstrate he has a beautiful voice, which for a singer is not a flaw. But he is part of another world, that of light, very light music; he has to be forgiven for having inundated us, with or without Wham, with silly little songs for much of the '80s. For a George Michael, making such a record is a point of arrival, but for a Joni Mitchell, what is it? Boo, maybe that dissatisfied expression on the cover hides the desire to indulge in a luxurious whim of a mature, bored lady, but knowing a lot of what she has created previously, I just can't get used to the idea that at some point she felt the need to put herself in the shoes of Barbra Streisand.

Another thing that doesn't add up: what are her two songs "A Case Of You" and "Both Sides Now" doing in the collection? Not because they are unworthy of the old standards, but simply because they have nothing to do with them, they are not even comparable, it's a whole other genre, despite the clumsy "aging" disguise they have undergone. Especially for "A Case Of You" the more you hear it, the more you want to listen to the bare original version (from "Blue"), with its guitars, metallic and maybe a bit clumsy, but authentic. Having heard the reasons of the ear and those of the mind, the verdict is left: paradoxical record, well-made and precious, but perfectly useless, like a beautiful luxury ornament.