Joni Mitchell :: Coyote
It’s great to get Joni’s take on the Coyote, a Native American version of the Trickster archetype, like Loki (Norse), or Monkey (Chinese), or even Baby Krishna (Hindu) stealing butter and hearts. These characters might play tricks on you, might mix the sacred and the vulgar, and may be a little bit dangerous. Even though he might knock you on your ass, the trickster will teach you to laugh about it, maybe give you a little perspective too. Joni doesn’t see herself as a victim; she welcomes the chance to tangle, to match him trick for trick.
In Coyote, we catch a knowing smirk, that humble and humorous nod acknowledging you’ve met your match. Joni describes the irresistible attraction an independent woman feels for a mannish man — the capable one who works with his hands, leathered by the sun, who lacks good manners, follows his instincts and his joy. Coyote is the perfect fit, both as the wild animal and the slippery mythical figure. Listen closely, and you can almost smell his musk through all the lyric chatter. You can feel her heartbeat quicken when he sets his sights on her.
Katy mentioned lists of songs a few weeks ago. I have two such lists: “Songs I wish were written about me” and “Songs wedded to an experience;” this song is on the latter. In 2005, I had my own Coyote moment, saw myself reflected on the dark strange pupil of a wild thing, cleverly disguised as a man. Even though my memories of the night have lost some clarity, when I hear the first guitar jangles of this song (they sound like bird flocks whipping over an open plain don’t they?), and Joni’s quizzical lyrics, I’m taken back to my old kitchen, decked out in winter sun. I was cleaning my apartment listening to Hejira that next morning in a post-coyotal haze. It was the first time I really heard what Joni was singing — that line about getting close to the skin and the eyes, but still feeling alone, but still feeling related. I pause in scrubbing the floor and sit back on my heels to shake my head in wry recognition.
Coyote
Joni Mitchell (homepage)
(note — on Joni’s site be sure to visit the glossary of references made in her songs, and this interview with David Crosby about recording her first album.)
Rob said on friday, march 28th, 2008
joshua said on friday, march 28th, 2008
I dig this post too. I completely adore the trickster. I love that Coyote is basically good-natured but simply cannot help but make a little trouble, cannot help being a little reckless, cannot help but make things a little absurd…
Unfortunately I often think that Joni Mitchell suffers from what I call ‘the Leonard Cohen problem’: when really terrific songwriting, with great melodies and lyrics, gets obscured by the recording, the arrangement, and the production. In this case, Mitchell’s melodies are unbelievably gorgeous, but who decided to put that flange on the acoustic? And make the bass sound like an overstretched balloon? And uh, bongos?
Anyway, truly remarkable song and really smart post Poppy. I think I’ll try to dig up a live version…
joshua said on friday, march 28th, 2008
Well, the only live versions of this song I could find had Jaco Pastorius on bass, which is pretty damn cool but doesn’t solve the overstretched balloon problem!
I did find this super lovely version of Johnny Cash’s Long Black Veil. She sings in duet with him, backed by a perfectly sappy pop orchestra. After ‘her’ verse, she gives him this little half-smile that makes my heart skip a beat…
Poppy said on saturday, march 29th, 2008
The entire album is a weird jazz trip. Hejira means flight from one’s homeland, and while I understand my favorite girl’s musical wanderlust, I prefer her earlier stuff.
There’s also a beautiful version of this song in The Last Waltz with the Band backing.
Poppy, I likes your entry a ton. When I get home from work I’ll give this one a listen. Naniboujou!