The explosive story that inspired Joni Mitchell song ‘Carey’
One of the greatest storytelling lyricists of our time is undoubtedly Joni Mitchell. An integral part of the Laurel Canyon scene of the late 1960s and early 1970s, Mitchell had an uncanny ear for melodies and an even better ability to weave storylines within them.
Widely considered her magnum opus, 1971’s Blue saw Mitchell contemplate the winding road of breakups and newfound relationships, as well as that period’s societal experience through the female lens. With her trip to Crete acting as the album’s narrative backdrop, this album is a masterclass in self-exploration and unfiltered honesty, with her real-life experiences directly informing the record’s stunning lyricism.
Tracks ‘My Old Man’ and ‘River’ ponder on the break-up of fellow Laurel Canyon dweller Graham Nash, while ‘Blue’ and ‘All I Want’ muse upon her whirlwind relationship with James Taylor. Mitchell’s frankness is displayed no better than in the album’s title track where she rallies Taylor through his Heroin addiction: “Now you’ve got to keep thinking / You can make it through these waves / Acid, booze, and ass / Needles, guns, and grass”.
During a 1979 interview with Rolling Stone, Mitchell said this about the record’s lyrics: “There’s hardly a dishonest note in the vocals. At that period of my life, I had no personal defenses. I felt like a cellophane wrapper on a pack of cigarettes. I felt like I had absolutely no secrets from the world and I couldn’t pretend in my life to be strong. Or to be happy. But the advantage of it in the music was that there were no defenses there either”.
Weaved inside the stories of failed and burgeoning relationships with fellow musicians, was a story of a whirlwind romance with the cane-carrying American redhead Cary Raditz.
Following her breakup from Nash, Mitchell embarked on a soul-searching trip to Europe with a friend. In her Apple Music interview with Elton John, Mitchell recounts stories of locals shouting “Sheepy sheepy, Matala” to her, which she later realised was an indication of where they believed “hippies” should head.
Mitchell met Raditz in what must have felt like an appropriately bullish manner at that time, and as the unwavering poet she is, could only have felt that the symbolism of how and when he entered her life was a signpost for her to follow.
“We were standing on the ocean’s edge, looking out towards Turkey and Penelope, the girl I was travelling with, was talking about her namesake, Penelope and Ulysses,” she said.
She continued, “You know, the story of woman whose husband is away and she’s surrounded by suitors. She’s weaving a tapestry and they keep saying ‘when will you tell us who you choose?’ and she says ‘when I finish my tapestry’.
While on the coast of Matala, this astonishing tale continues: “So we’re telling this story when, suddenly, boom there’s this huge explosion. I turned around and I saw this red-headed character all in white, with a white turban and red hair sticking out,” she recounted, “Blow out of a restaurant. He was the cook there, he lit the stove and it blew up. That was how I met Cary Raditz”.
The real life stories animation is mirrored in Mitchell’s lyrics in the song, as she noticed his emergence in her life was an unexpected anti-dote to the popstar sensibilities she had become accustomed to both personally and romantically, and gave clarity to questions of whom may be a fitting suitor in her own life.
The lyrics read: “I got beach tar on my feet / And I miss my clean white linen / And my fancy French cologne / Oh Carey, get out your cane (Carey, get out your cane) / And I’ll put on some silver (I’ll put on some silver) / Oh, you’re a mean old Daddy / But I like you fine”.
The lyrics mark an important time of difference in Mitchell’s life, which is then mirrored in the record’s tracklisting. Carey is sandwiched between songs of lust and heartbreak, about Nash and Taylor respectively and clearly represents an interlude in her journey of introspective questioning.
Throughout the ebbs and flows of music evolution, one quality remains an unwavering constant in the hearts of music fans; honesty. While the composition and production of this record is undoubtedly of its time and reflective of early ’70s society, its timelessness sits within the unfettered access to Mitchell’s inner workings.
While whirlwind romances with music icons are nuanced situations, the feelings of heartbreak and lust are universal. Mitchell’s dedication to preserving the sanctity of those feelings, even if the subject is as fleeting as Cary Raditz, is what inextricably links her music to the canon of lyrical storytelling.
