MARCH 10 2018 LISTENER 57
M
idway through a daft little
movie called The Life Aquatic
with Steve Zissou, there’s a daft
little scene with Bill Murray
and Cate Blanchett in a hot-air balloon,
soundtracked by a daft – and repetitive –
little tune about two unrelated individuals
called Nicola and Bart.
When I first watched the film, that
tune stuck in my head, and on further
investigation, I discovered it was the
work of Joan Baez and prolific
film composer Ennio Mor-
ricone, for a 1971 film about
Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo
Vanzetti, two Italian-born
American anarchists sentenced
to death for murder in the
1920s.
Baez’s lyrics are brief and
stirring – like an inscription on a tomb-
stone – and their delivery as a hymnal
crescendo of a single verse repeated eight
times in three minutes creates a solemn,
urgent and, ultimately, glorious tribute.
Here’s to you, Nicola and Bart
Rest forever here in our hearts
The last and final moment is yours
That agony is your triumph.
Baez’s ability to make bold political
statements is, of course, nothing new. Her
name is synonymous with the early 60s
counterculture anthem We Shall Over-
come, and she has spent the best part of
six decades loudly promoting anti-war,
civil rights, LGBTQ and environmentalist
causes and opposing the death penalty.
But the effectiveness of her songs
lies mostly in their simplicity, asdemonstrated in Here’s to You, Nicola and
Bart and the choice of songs for her latest
album, Whistle Down the Wind.
The 77-year-old has said her 25th
album has been designed as a
“bookend” to her eponymous
1960 debut LP, and there are
clear English folk-style offer-
ings to balance her earliest
influences, the most obvious
being Silver Blade, a response to
Silver Dagger, the opening track
on Joan Baez.
But she has also said the world tour to
support Whistle Down the Wind will be
her last, and it’s clear she’s determined to
sign off with a flourish, one that harnesses
three vital aspects of her art: working with
a spectrum of collaborators, playing to her
age and experience and once again using
bold, simple language to express complex
political messages.
By using songs by the likes of US roots
musicologist Tim Eriksen, confrontational
UK transgender artist Anohni, Americana
stalwarts Josh Ritter and Joe Henry (who
also produces) and the legendary Tom
Waits, Baez shows that nearly a decade
after her last outing, she’s still relevant.
Then, by choosing to interpret songs
such as Waits’s Last Leaf and Mary Chapin
Carpenter’s The Things That We Are MadeGETTY IMAGESFinishing with
a flourish
She’s retiring from
touring, but singer
Joan Baez keeps her
protest flag flying on
a new album.
MUSIC
by James Belfield
Of, she introduces a nod to her own
mortality – similar to that which earnt
Leonard Cohen so many plaudits for
2016’s You Want It Darker – while deliver-
ing it with such panache that the listener
can’t help but be enthralled.I
f Whistle Down the Wind is a curtain
call, it is one that has a powerful point
to prove and one delivered with grace,
sincerity and, above all, strength.
As the #MeToo movement finds a
global voice and US students struggle
against a powerful pro-gun lobby, protest-
ers can learn a thing or two from Baez
about simplicity and purpose. Two tracks,
Civil War and I Wish the Wars Were All
Over, are uncomplicated narratives with a
familiar, timeless message. The centrepiece
of the album, however, is a version of
Zoe Mulford’s The President Sang Amazing
Grace, about Barack Obama’s eulogy for
the victims of the 2015 Charleston church
shooting.
It is as plain, beautiful and affecting as
Here’s to You, Nicola and Bart and dem-
onstrates that Baez’s understanding of
the power of clarity and storytelling is as
relevant in 2018 as it has been over the
past six decades. l
WHISTLE DOWN THE WIND, Joan Baez
(Southbound)Joan Baez: understands
the power of clarity.