“Joni’s Jam” would occur from time to time, always with a small group of musician friends like Chaka Khan or Herbie Hancock and maybe some of the “young’uns” who’d wanted to blend in and meet her, like Harry Styles. Not long after that, at a dinner with a friend, Grammy-winning singer-songwriter Brandi Carlile, Mitchell suggested she help round up some musicians for a more regular jam session. “Oh, that’s gone,” she’d say, meaning her voice.īut Andersen played live music in her living room that night, and while Mitchell’s voice was absent, it was the sound of musicians and the camaraderie that this self-professed “rowdy” missed. Often asked if she’d sing again though, Mitchell’s response was usually less promising. Sixty-one years later, at a similar crossroads, she vowed the same thing. After being diagnosed with polio at age 9, she declared she’d walk again. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard that. It was just a few years after the sudden brain aneurysm that stilled Mitchell’s voice and brought her the medical verdict that she’d likely never walk again. In 2018, in town for a show, singer-songwriter Eric Andersen had visited Mitchell’s Bel-Air home with his band. Tonight is the latest edition of “Joni’s Jam,” the first since the world opened up a bit. Her face is filled with promise and a touch of mischief. It is a Saturday night in late May, and Joni Mitchell finds a seat in her living room, a high-ceilinged space with a pool table, an array of guitars, a grand piano and a generous collection of her paintings.
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