AM is about the tens of rock; an objective romance that
accentuates the music. It is not an attempt to create a charade, a masquerade ("Are
we really happy in this lonely game we play?") There is, of course, no dismissing Manson
and Altamont or the war; the 60s were only a dream (some of us had), and at times, AM soul searches to find the story
behind the music, sometimes buried deep within the garden. In the early 70s, Joni
Mitchell was so distraught about breaking off her romance with Jackson
Browne that she attempted suicide.
This incident occurred circa '72, while Mitchell was
composing her album, For the Roses (an album gaining leverage in its AM rating).
The incident is covered fully by journalist Sheila Wellerin in her book, Girls
Like Us: The Journey of a Generation (2007). Weller's book chronicles the lives
of Mitchell, Carly Simon and Carole King. She reports that
one night, Joni claimed Browne "dissed her" on stage at the Roxy (no explanation). Later, as he was walking downstairs, and
she was going up, there was a verbal altercation which Joni reported resulted in
his hitting her. Mitchell was so distraught she ran barefoot onto Sunset
Boulevard. (The visual graphic there is heartwrenching.)
Browne, as if it were a cue, took up with another woman who
would become his wife and mother of his son, Ethan. One night at the
Troubadour, Jackson saw a beautiful young blonde being screamed at
by her boyfriend. Browne interceded and the boyfriend clocked him. Nonetheless, Browne's gallantry was rewarded: he took her home. A Southern California girl, Phyllis Major, had been a successful model in
Europe. Jackson's attention to Major felt, to Joni, like "a
great loss and a great mind-fuck." She cut herself, took pills and threw
herself against the wall. The incident
is the back story for Mitchell's "Car on the Hill." One night Joni was at her home
on that hilly street, expecting Jackson to come over. He didn't show up.
"Car on the Hill," smack dab in the sweet spot of Joni's jazz masterpiece, Court and Spark, perfectly captures the universal storytelling of the LP. Ostensibly the musings of a woman awaiting her "sugar to show" when he's three hours late. The song is a three minute snapshot of the tensions and dependencies in any relationship. Hope and frustration blend as each car goes by without being his. The music suits the lyrics as Joni's vocals conjure up each image perfectly, particularly, "Climbing, climbing, climbing the hill." Anyone in L.A. can testify.
"It was a high-strung relationship," says a confidante, yet Joni remained in love with Browne. Newly lionized, handsomer now that time had lined his baby face, and well placed in the Troubadour-Canyon elite, the power was shifting, and all her worshipful reviews couldn't change that. When she first came to the Canyon, she'd been the awe-inspiring queen. Now, the gravity of sexism had pulled her down a notch. Browne had the advantage.
"Car on the Hill," smack dab in the sweet spot of Joni's jazz masterpiece, Court and Spark, perfectly captures the universal storytelling of the LP. Ostensibly the musings of a woman awaiting her "sugar to show" when he's three hours late. The song is a three minute snapshot of the tensions and dependencies in any relationship. Hope and frustration blend as each car goes by without being his. The music suits the lyrics as Joni's vocals conjure up each image perfectly, particularly, "Climbing, climbing, climbing the hill." Anyone in L.A. can testify.
"It was a high-strung relationship," says a confidante, yet Joni remained in love with Browne. Newly lionized, handsomer now that time had lined his baby face, and well placed in the Troubadour-Canyon elite, the power was shifting, and all her worshipful reviews couldn't change that. When she first came to the Canyon, she'd been the awe-inspiring queen. Now, the gravity of sexism had pulled her down a notch. Browne had the advantage.
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Phyllis Major |
After the incident, Joni went into therapy in a
residential setting, where she wrote "Trouble Child" about her
experience. "Breaking like the waves at Malibu." She remained deeply angry at Jackson for years. The Browne story had a tragic dimension that kept it smoldering for
Joni. Shortly before Phyllis Major married Jackson (in December 1975, two
years after their son was born), she attempted suicide. She
left notes for everybody saying, "I'm sorry. I can't stand the
pain." Though she was discovered in time, three months later Phyllis succeeded in taking enough drugs to kill herself. The tragedy was like
a Santa Ana fueled brush fire through the Laurel Canyon circle, which Joni
memorialized in a coded reference in her 1976 "Song For Sharon" on Hejira.
Years after, in September 1992, Browne's longtime girlfriend, Daryl
Hannah, accused him of beating her up. The incident was "grievously misreported" with a flurry of contradictory
accounts by after-the-fact witnesses and authorities. It was after this
scandal that Joni Mitchell went public with her anger at Jackson by way of "Not
To Blame," her song of domestic violence on Turbulent Indigo.