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Rating: Sandwiched between the perhaps most discussed and praised works of the blonde Canadian singer-songwriter (respectively "Blue" from 1971 and "Court & Spark" from 1973), this valuable album, released in 1972 as the fifth of her career, always risks being overshadowed in the vast sea of her production. It's the fate of transitional works: the two albums just mentioned sound very different from each other, and "For The Roses" places itself equidistant from them, as a work in progress and evolution between one and the other.
In those years, Mitchell was considered, especially by industry insiders, more than just an exceptional talent: a real alien. First of all, for her voice, a sort of soprano bell of pure, silvery sonority (not yet compromised by the everlasting smoking habit), intent on careening with surprising mobility over harp-style, stunningly unpredictable harmonic foundations, regardless of the instrument of compositional approach (that is, the guitar, at the time strictly acoustic, the piano, and finally the dulcimer, the latter, however, put aside starting with this album) and in any case very personal, ingenious, sophisticated, avant-garde.
In parallel, her lyrics, always intimate and of unheard frankness, opened wide without filters onto her own conscience and experience, caused a general, admiring discomfort, especially for friends, colleagues, or lovers more directly involved in her life and persona. Unease even for the record company, at the sight of the photograph chosen by Joni for the cover: her, naked and from the back, standing on a rock by the sea... A partial censorship was triggered, with another completely chastened photo ending up as the cover, while the then twenty-eight-year-old Canadian's buttocks and the Pacific Ocean can be admired inside the album (or on the back of the CD booklet).
Mitchell's desire for jazz, a logical solution to the desire to increase, in depth and sophistication, the instrumental accompaniment of her open and harmonically changeable music, begins with this album, which sees wind instrumentalist Tom Scott add Californian fusion moods to some tracks. This trend will develop in crescendo for the rest of the seventies, through the full and well-known involvement of masters like Jaco Pastorius, Charles Mingus, Wayne Shorter in jazz-folk productions increasingly refined and less commercial.
The twelve songs of "For The Roses", half conducted with the piano and half with the acoustic guitar, are sometimes left very simple (instrument and voice, all alone in her hands) in the prevalent style of "Blue" and previous works, sometimes arranged for the accompanist group, instead in the dominant style on "Court & Spark" and all that will follow. They are almost always of short length (even less than three minutes) and enjoy, without distinction, the disturbing harmonic/melodic style peculiar to this extraordinarily talented singer-songwriter: a laborious, constant rise and fall of long vocal phrases, magically suspended in the seemingly disorganized yet brilliant, ingenious and free progression on the keyboard. Especially when our blonde is at the piano, the clumps of chords, inversions, and bass transpositions are something dizzying to those who love diving into concepts of harmony and composition.
When the lady instead wears the guitar, things would get even more linear, thanks to more sporadic chord changes, including entire verses that are content to sustain themselves on the same rhythmic figure, but at that point, another type of Mitchellian magic comes into play: the tunings. She doesn't even consider the classical E-A-D-G-B-E tuning of the six strings, preferring a whole line of so-called open tunings, from which to draw with ease the right one, song by song: a quirk that still at the time of this album forced her to have to tweak the mechanics of the acoustic guitar at every concert break. Roland finally took care of it, in relatively recent times, by developing a special electronic guitar for her that has in itself, programmed and instantaneously recalled, all the different tunings she needs.
Returning to this album, the episodes that most touch my personal taste are "Electricity", which opens with Joni's voice alone, incomparably harmonized by herself, while she describes one of her suspended and syncopated melodies; then the title track of the album, played on the typical tension created by the minor key chords during the verses, resolved by the shift to major for the chorus. Exquisite and poetic, even in the title, "Cold Blue Steel and Sweet Fire", while among the piano episodes my preference goes to "See You Sometime".
"You Turn Me on I'm a Radio" is a song literally commissioned by the record company, eager to release a Mitchell single that was decently accessible to everyone. She carried out the task, getting away with a kind of sui generis acoustic blues: there are only three chords... but the voice that sails over them escapes everywhere, hitting the most unlikely notes up and down for more than two octaves, as is her custom. It was a moderate success at the time, one of the very few appearances Joni made on the singles charts.
A musical figure always among the most influential and esteemed by industry insiders (figures like Jimmy Page or Prince would have given, and still would give, an arm to collaborate on one of her projects), she is the female figure I favor in the musical field. This album, like many others in her more than forty-year career, consistently and interestingly represents her art and her poetics.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Banquet (03:01)
Come to the dinner gong
The table is laden high
Fat bellies and hungry little ones
Tuck your napkins in
And take your share
Some get the gravy
And some get the gristle
Some get the marrow bone
And some get nothing
Though there's plenty to spare
I took my share down by the sea
Paper plates and Javex bottles on the tide
Seagulls come down
And they squawk at me
Down where the water-skiers glide
Some turn to Jesus
And some turn to heroin
Some turn to rambling round
Looking for a clean sky
And a drinking stream
Some watch the paint peel off
Some watch their kids grow up
Some watch their stocks and bonds
Waiting for that big deal
American Dream
I took my dream down by the sea
Yankee yachts and lobster pots and sunshine
And logs and sails
And Shell Oil pails
Dogs and tugs and summertime
Back in the banquet line
Angry young people crying
Who let the greedy in
And who left the needy out
Who made this salty soup
Tell him we're very hungry now
For a sweeter fare
In the cookie I read
"Some get the gravy
And some get the gristle
Some get the marrow bone
And some get nothing
Though there's plenty to spare"
03 Barangrill (02:52)
Three waitresses all wearing
Black diamond earrings
Talking about zombies
And Singapore slings
No trouble in their faces
Not one anxious voice
None of the crazy you get
From too much choice
The thumb and the satchel
Or the rented Rolls-Royce
And you think she knows something
By the second refill
You think she's enlightened
As she totals your bill
You say "Show me the way
To Barangrill"
Well some say it's in service
They say "Humble Makes Pure"
You're hoping it's near Folly
'Cause you're headed that way for sure
And you just have to laugh
'Cause it's all so crazy
Ah, her mind's on her boyfriend
And eggs over easy
It's just a trick on you
Her mirrors and your will
So you ask the truck driver
On the way to the till
But he's just a slave
To Barangrill
The guy at the gaspumps
He's got a lot of soul
He sings Merry Christmas for you
Just like Nat King Cole
And he makes up his own tune
Right on the spot
About whitewalls and windshields
And this job he's got
And you want to get moving
And you want to stay still
But lost in the moment
Some longing gets filled
And you even forget to ask
"Hey, Where's Barangrill?"
04 Lesson in Survival (03:11)
Lesson in Survival
Spinning out on turns
That gets you tough
Guru books-the Bible
Only a reminder
That you're just not good enough
You need to believe in something
Once I could in our love
Black road
Double yellow line
Friends and kin
Campers in the kitchen
That's fine sometimes
But I know my needs
My sweet tumbleweed
I need more quiet times
By a river flowing
You and me
Deep kisses
And the sun going down
Maybe it's paranoia
Maybe it's sensitivity
Your friends protect you
Scrutinize me
I get so damn timid
Not at all the spirit
That's inside of me
Oh baby I can't seem to make it
With you socially
There's this reef around me
I'm looking way out at the ocean
Love to see that green water in motion
I'm going to get a boat
And we can row it
If you ever get the notion
To be needed by me
Fresh salmon frying
And the tide rolling in
I went to see a friend tonight
'Was very late when I walked in
My talking as it rambled
Revealed suspicious reasoning
The visit seemed to darken him
I came in as bright
As a neon light
And I burned out
Right there before him
I told him these things
I'm telling you now
Watched them buckle up
In his brow
When you dig down deep
You lose good sleep
And it makes you
Heavy company
I will always love you
Hands alike
Magnet and iron
The souls
05 Let the Wind Carry Me (03:56)
Papa's faith is people
Mama she believes in cleaning
Papa's faith is in people
Mama she's always cleaning
Papa brought home the sugar
Mama taught me the deeper meaning
She don't like my kick pleat skirt
She don't like my eyelids painted green
She don't like me staying up late
In my high-heeled shoes
Living for that Rock'n'Roll dancing scene
Papa says "Leave the girl alone, Mother
She's looking like a Movie Queen"
Mama thinks she spoilt me
Papa knows somehow he set me free
Mama thinks she spoilt me rotten
She blames herself
But papa he blesses me
It's a rough road to travel
Mama let go now
It's always called for me
Sometimes I get that feeling
And I want to settle
And raise a child up with somebody
I get that strong longing
And I want to settle
And raise a child up with somebody
But it passes like the summer
I'm a wild seed again
Let the wind carry me
06 For the Roses (03:48)
I heard it in the wind last night
It sounded like applause
Did you get a round resounding for you
Way up here
It seems like many dim years ago
Since I heard that face to face
Or seen you face to face
Though tonight I can feel you here
I get these notes
On butterflies and lilac sprays
From girls who just have to tell me
They saw you somewhere
In some office sits a poet
And he trembles as he sings
And he asks some guy
To circulate his soul around
On your mark red ribbon runner
The caressing rev of motors
Finely tuned like fancy women
In thirties evening gowns
Up the charts
Off to the airport-
Your name's in the news
Everything's first class-
The lights go down-
And it's just you up there
Getting them to feel like that
Remember the days when you used to sit
And make up your tunes for love
And pour your simple sorrow
To the soundhole and your knee
And now you're seen
On giant screens
And at parties for the press
And for people who have slices of you
From the company
They toss around your latest golden egg
Speculation-well, who's to know
If the next one in the nest
Will glitter for them so
I guess I seem ungrateful
With my teeth sunk in the hand
That brings me things
I really can't give up just yet
Now I sit up here
The critic!
And they introduce some band
But they seem so much confetti
Looking at them on my TV set
Oh the power and the glory
Just when you're getting a taste for worship
They start bringing out the hammers
And the boards
And the nails
I heard it in the wind last night
It sounded like applause
Chilly now
End of summer
No more shiny hot nights
It was just the arbutus rustling
And the bumping of the logs
And the moon swept down black water
Like an empty spotlight
07 See You Sometime (02:56)
Where are you now
Are you in some hotel room
Does it have a view?
Or holding some honey
Are you caught in a crowd
Who came on to you?
Why do you have to be so jive
O.K. hang up the phone
It hurts
But something survives
Though it's undermined
I'd still like to see you sometime
I'm feeling so good
And my friends all tell me
That I'm looking fine
I run in the woods
I spring from the boulders
Like a mama lion
I'm not ready to
A piece of your fortune
Change my name again
But you know I'm not after
'Cause I tasted mine
And your fame
I'd just like to see you sometime
I'll come meet your plane
Pack your suspenders
No need to surrender
I just want to see you again
I could sure use some sunshine on my apple trees
We're in for more rain
It seems such a shame
We start out so kind and end so heartlessly
I couldn't take them all on then
With a headful of questions and hypes
So when the hopes got so slim
I just resigned
But I'd still like to see you sometime
I'd sure like to see you
Net Search
Where are you now
Does it have a view?
Are you in some hotel room
Are you caught in a crowd
Or holding some honey
Who came on to you?
Why do you have to be so jive
O.K. hang up the phone
It hurts
But something survives
I'd still like to see you sometime
Though it's undermined
And my friends all tell me
I'm feeling so good
That I'm looking fine
I run in the woods
I spring from the boulders
Like a mama lion
I'm not ready to
Change my name again
But you know I'm not after
And your fame
A piece of your fortune
'Cause I tasted mine
I'd just like to see you sometime
Pack your suspenders
I'll come meet your plane
No need to surrender
I just want to see you again
We're in for more rain
I could sure use some sunshine on my apple trees
It seems such a shame
We start out so kind and end so heartlessly
With a headful of questions and hypes
I couldn't take them all on then
So when the hopes got so slim
I just resigned
But I'd still like to see you sometime
I'd sure like to see you
08 Electricity (03:01)
The Minus is loveless
He talks to the land
And the leaves fall
And the pond over-ices
She don't know the system, Plus
She don't understand
She's got all the wrong fuses and splices
She's not going to fix it up
Too easy
The masking tape tangles
It's sticky and black
And the copper
Proud headed Queen Lizzie
Conducts little charges
That don't get charged back
Well the technical manual's busy
She's not going to fix it up too easy
And she holds out her flashlight
And she shines it on me
She wants me to tell her
What the trouble might be
Well I'm learning
It's peaceful
With a good dog and some trees
Out of touch with the breakdown
Of this century
They're not going to fix it up
Too easy
We once loved-together
And we floodlit that time
Input-output-electricity
But the lines overloaded
And the sparks started flying
And the loose wires
Were lashing out at me
She's not going to fix that up
Too easy
But she holds out her candle
And she shines it in
And she begs him to show her
How to fix it again
While the song that he sang her
To soothe her to sleep
Runs all through her circuits
Like a heartbeat
She's not going to fix it up
Too easy
09 You Turn Me On I'm a Radio (02:39)
If you're driving into town
With a dark cloud above you
Dial in the number
Who's bound to love you
Oh honey you turn me on
I'm a radio
I'm a country station
I'm a little bit corny
I'm a wildwood flower
Waving for you
I'm a broadcasting tower
Waving for you
And I'm sending you out
This signal here
I hope you can pick it up
Loud and clear
I know you don't like weak women
You get bored so quick
And you don't like strong women
'Cause they're hip to your tricks
It's been dirty for dirty
Down the line
But you know I come when you whistle
When you're loving and kind
But if you've got too many doubts
If there's no good reception for me
Then tune me out, 'cause honey
Who needs the static
It hurts the head
And you wind up cracking
And the day goes dismal
From "Breakfast Barney"
To the sign-off prayer
What a sorry face you get to wear
I'm going to tell you again now
If you're still listening there
If you're driving into town
With a dark cloud above you
Dial in the number
Who's bound to love you
If you're lying on the beach
With the transistor going
Kick off the sandflies honey
The love's still flowing
If your head says forget it
But your heart's still smoking
Call me at the station
The lines are open
10 Blonde in the Bleachers (02:42)
The blonde in the bleachers
She flips her hair for you
Above the loudspeakers
You start to fall
She follows you home
But you miss living alone
You can still hear sweet mysteries
Calling you
The bands and the roadies
Lovin' 'em and leavin' 'em
It's pleasure to try 'em
It's trouble to keep 'em
'Cause it seems like you've gotta give up
Such a piece of your soul
When you give up the chase
Feeling it hot and cold
You're in Rock'n'Roll
It's the nature of the race
It's the unknown child
So sweet and wild
It's youth
It's too good to waste
She tapes her regrets
To the microphone stand
She says "You can't hold the hand
Of a Rock'n'Roll man
Very long
Or count on your plans
With a Rock'n'Roll man
Very long
Compete with the fans
For your Rock'n'Roll man
For very long
The girls and the bands
And the Rock'n'Roll man"
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