Originally published in The Cambridge Student in 2013
Joni Mitchell’s masterpiece Blue was written at a critical juncture in the artist’s life. Her career was taking off but her long term relationship was falling apart. She decided to forgo touring in the summer of 1970, instead taking a road trip around Europe where she would find fresh musical influences as well as the seeds of a new romance with James Taylor. On her travels she spent several weeks in a hippie commune in Crete, an experience which formed the basis of the song ‘Carey.’ While most of the album Blue deals with the anguish of separation and the dizzying elation of new love, ‘Carey’ extols the simple pleasures of the summer months.
Mitchell rolled into the coastal town of Matala to find a motley gang of hippies who were living a simple existence in the Greek idyll. They inhabited in a network of caves that were hewn into the rocks as burial crypts centuries before. Carey Raditz was the “bright red devil” who formed the subject of song, an eccentric commune member whose vibrant personality captured Mitchell’s attention. She describes their carefree escapades, drinking round after round at the Mermaid cafe and dancing to “scratchy rock and roll beneath the Matala moon.”
Throughout the song Joni admits that she’s ready to leave Matala, ready to move on to Amsterdam or Rome where she can “rent a grand piano and put some flowers round [her] room.” ‘Carey’ manages capture something quintessential about travelling in the summer – and it’s more than just the images of sunny beaches. It’s the escapism of being in a new environment free from the commitments of normal life. It’s also the knowledge that at any moment you can up sticks and move on to a new location. When I hear the opening chords of ‘Carey’ I’m instantly reminded not only of the of relaxation and indulgence that the summer brings, but also the invaluable sense of escape it affords.
