Robert Fripp likes Joni Mitchell

Leafing through Fripp's online diary for 14 April 2013,  I was very surprised to come across the following passage

While driving, listening to favourite music from early professional years in London, including Joni Mitchell’s Blue. Hearing this at the time, I thought: I have nothing to say after this. If Blue helped me through the hard times of 1971, Judy Collins’ Wildflowers (recommended by Judy Dyble) helped me through the awfulness of 93a, Brondesbury Road and GG&F (1967-68); and Who Knows Where The Time Goes through the heartbreak and subsequent horrors of the KC breakup in December 1969. These, with other music-friends, at a time when Music was giving itself away for nothing much more than the price of an ear.

Let us not forget that 'Michael from mountains', one of the songs on Joni's earliest records, was a tune tried out (but discarded) by the nascent King Crimson. Judy Dyble, being an original Fairporter, would of course have been au fait with Joni - she sings "I don't know where I stand"  and "Chelsea Morning" on the first Fairport album, and recordings of the time include "Marcie" and "Both sides, now".

Yesterday I listened to the mind blowing duo of 'Hissing of summer lawns' and 'Hejira' for the first time in many months.

Hejira

Drove to Carmiel and back today; five hours driving in less than ten hours.

Listening material:

• Randy Newman, "Live at the LA Largo" - a recording of the show Randy gave to introduce the public last year to his new "Harps and Angels" disc. The show has all of the H&A songs in the correct order, along with four extra songs at the end. I made a picture sleeve for the disc and intended to get Randy to autograph it last year, when he was supposed to come to Israel for a concert.
  

• William Orbit, "Pieces in a modern style".
  I found this a few years ago when looking for interpretations of Ravel. His sublime "Pavane pour une infante defunte" is here, although this version doesn't contain the entire piece and so is less heart rending than other versions. The Ravel is one of the few pieces which is actually recognisable, but I find this disc to be relaxing listening.
• Joni Mitchell, "Hejira". I remember reading a review of this record in "Melody Maker" when it was released in 1976; a friend bought a copy and I promptly taped it. I bought my own cd copy several years ago. It was a distinct pleasure to listen to the disc in the car stereo; the guitars (some of which don't sound like guitars at all) and vibraphone made pointillistic love in the late afternoon sun.
  

Better late than never

Several years ago I noticed that the more that I program, the less music I make. Unfortunately at the moment it's much easier to write computer programs than it is to write songs; for one, I am never short of ideas whereas I never have any ideas for the other.

But while I am writing programs, I am also listening to music, and in the 'better late than never' department, I must note my increasing interest for Joni Mitchell's classic "Blue" album from 1971. I've been listening to this album for the past few years but have never payed too much attention to it. At first, the faster songs ("All I want", "Carey", "California") served as my introduction, but lately their appeal has begun to fade, and to be honest, I almost wish that they weren't on the album, for I have fallen in love with the slower songs.

"Little green", "Blue" and "River" have become mainstays of my listening in the past few days. I admit that mainly I listen to the music and not to the words, not having enough spare processing power for them. The title song alone is worth the price of admission, especially in the 'middle bit', where a line sung in 4/4 suddenly compresses to be sung in 3/4 ("acid, booze and ass").

Holiday

I'm typing this facing the pool in the Orchid Hotel, which is in the Red Sea resort of Eilat. We're spending a week here. getting away from everything. It's very easy to do so at this hotel, as it is not exactly the run of the mill hotel.

First of all, it's not really in Eilat; it's a few kilometres outside the city, on the way to Taba. It's directly across the road from the Marine Observatory, if that means anything.

Secondly, it's not an "eggbox" hotel; the rooms are individual wooden cabins which are scattered upon the hillside. We have quite a pleasant cabin with a good view of the Red Sea.

I was listening to Joni Mitchell's "Travelogue" this morning whilst watching people cavorting in the swimming pool. I'm not too fond of the Travelogue myself - most of the songs seem to have had their substance taken out of them - but it's quite good for incidental music whilst pool watching. I was struck by one of the lines in "Chinese Cafe" - "nothing lasts".

Maybe that's true of the modern world, but it didn't use to be so. In my mind, things are going to last forever, which is probably why I - and many other people - have great problems with change, be it on a personal, a professional or a national level. Nothing lasts. If I use that as my mantra, I might find it easier to navigate throughout my life.

Neither will this holiday last, but I know that it's only for a week, and then it's back to work I go, where nothing much will have changed during my absence.

I'm trying to write this entry surrounded by children playing strange games on the computers which the hotel has provided for guests' use. This makes concentration difficult, so I'm going to leave it for now and get some more rest.

Getting some rest