You could hear it before you saw it: a chatty, chatty laugh – ha-ha-ha – drifting through the cool valley air.
Sitting in a gilded chair near the center of a revolving carousel stage, 80-year-old Joni Mitchell twirled slowly through Saturday night’s scene at the Hollywood Bowl like someone who had just heard a joke at a party. She laughed again as she greeted the crowd in front of her: 17,000 or so fans gathered for her first hometown concert since suffering a near-fatal aneurysm in 2015 that nearly killed her. And she did it again as dozens of musicians surrounding her began the opening act of what would become a three-hour show.
The tune was “Be Cool,” and her message was a bit of easygoing life training: “Charm ’em / Don’t alarm ’em,” Mitchell sang, her long hair in two braids under a perky hat, her eyes wide open. She sparkles behind a stylish pair of tinted glasses. “Keep it light/Keep your worries out of sight.”
Ha-ha-ha-ha.
That sense of play was crucial to Mitchell’s comeback, which began with the so-called Johnny Jams that she conceived with the help of singer Brandi Carlile while recovering from an aneurysm at her home in Bel Air. In 2022, she blew minds when she treated audiences to an unannounced show at the Newport Folk Festival; Last year, she performed a similar show at the George Amphitheater in Washington state. Along the way, she received numerous high-profile awards and commendations, including the Gerswin Award for Popular Song from the Library of Congress, which you might be tempted to think was retaliation for an artist with a famously complicated relationship with rock music. ‘N’ Roll Foundation.
Saturday’s show was the first of two shows at the Bowl.
(Randall Michelson/L.N. Hewitt Silva)
At no point since her re-emergence, however, does Mitchell, whose songbook shaped a new paradigm for the poetry of personal expression in the early 1970s, appear to be making any such comeback for anyone but herself. It does nothing to redress the music industry’s grievances or even to correct the historical record; She’s performing again because apparently doing so makes her happy.
In fact, one of the things that struck you about Saturday’s show — the first of two sold-out Joni Jams shows that marked Mitchell’s first full concert in Los Angeles in more than 20 years — was the extent to which it was programmed in a way that was not a crowd-pleaser. Backed by Carlyle and a host of players including Annie Lennox, Jon Batiste, Jacob Collier, Blake Mills, Rita Wilson, and Robin Pecknold, Mitchell belted out a slew of hits, penning some of her best-known songs, including “Help Me” and “Man Heat in Paris,” in favor of thorny late-era selections like “Harlem in Havana” and “Sire of Sorrow (The Sorrowful Song of Job).”
“We’ve got a big show for you guys tonight that’s full of songs you wouldn’t expect to hear,” Carlisle initially said, which is certainly one way to sell an idea that would likely terrify a casual fan. Shortly afterward, Carlile asked people if they were ready to sing — the response was overwhelming — before joining Mitchell in singing “Carey” from her acclaimed 1971 LP “Blue”; Mitchell also performed that album’s “California” as a duet with Marcus Mumford and “A Case of You” in a rendition that brought out the grain in her voice that was far from flawless.
Joni Mitchell and Brandi Carlile perform.
(Randall Michelson/L.N. Hewitt-Silva)
She also performed a pair of familiar songs: Gerwin’s standard “Summertime,” which Carlile correctly said she “sang from,” and Elton John’s “I’m Still Standing,” some of which she modified. As I did when John and Bernie Taupin won the Gershwin Prize this year.
However, the core of Saturday’s concert (which was filmed on multiple cameras) was Mitchell’s more researched and complex works from the 1980s and 1990s: “Sunny Sunday,” “Night Ride Home,” “The Magdalene Laundries,” and “Dog Eat Dog.” “Come in from the cold.”
After “Dog Eat Dog,” a dreamy but poignant soft-rock song about “snake-bite evangelists, blackmailers and big-time financiers,” Mitchell said she wished she could vote in the upcoming presidential election. “I’m Canadian,” she added. “I’m one of those lousy immigrants.” Then, repeating an audience member’s exclamation, she said, “F-Donald Trump,” to roars of approval from the audience.
Ha-ha-ha-ha.
Even (or especially) at her darkest — as on “Cherokee Louise,” a flashback from Mitchell’s childhood in Saskatoon about a friend’s sexual assault — it was fascinating to watch her perform these complex songs about power, cruelty, and desire as if the lesson had been learned. Her success has been to continue pushing the boundaries of her creativity. Also great to hear, of course: for all the ways Mitchell is defined by folk acoustic guitar, the smokiness of her singing in this era is beautifully framed by Mills’ electric playing. Collier was also key on the piano, not least during the stunning “Both Sides Now,” which found a kind of ecstasy in surrender.
Joni Mitchell with members of Johnny Jam on Saturday.
(Randall Michelson/L.N. Hewitt Silva)
At the end of the concert, Carlisle told the audience that “getting to serve Johnny Ambition tonight is probably one of the proudest moments of all our lives,” which was an accurate and poignant way to describe the role of Johnny Jammers: not hair polish. An agreed-upon but facilitating myth that continues to unfold.
However, people love the hits.
“What do you think, Johnny?” Carlisle asked as Mitchell took a mouthful of Pinot Grigio. “Do you think they’ll sing another song with us?”
“Circle Game, do you want to sing along?” Easy as a breeze, Mitchell said. “Mmkay.”