Joan Baez 'Diamonds and rust' - C à vous - 16/05/2014

C à vous
Joan Baez
"Diamonds and Rust"
16 mai 2014
France 5
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[markharrisllb]

Voice, guitar playing, appearance, all natural and all still beautiful.

[TheMisslouise]

Elle est toujours aussi belle avec l'âge. Et sa voix a pris la profondeur de la sagesse... Quelle grande dame ! 💚

[brunocolesse]

une des plus belles chansons jamais écrites, paroles et musique

[azdesertgray]

How can someone age from beautiful to gorgeous!!

[chrisrock]

une femme sublime avec une voix magnifique....je l’écoute depuis mes 14 ans et je l'adore toujours

[BDB]

50 years ago, said with a smirk. Love ya Joan! My how times flies. Oh to be a fly on the wall all those light years ago while her and Bobby were exchanging verses from their notebooks.

Even now, the heart break in her voice can bring tears even to a rock.

[dz-gjnx]

I first heard this song in 1979 in Casablanca, Morocco. At this point in my life, I was a senior in high school in a small podunk town about 200 miles away from Casablanca. Besides my love for Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, and Cat Stevens, Long-Distance Running was my life. In school, my favorite class was English, and after three years of immersing myself in the language, I was somewhat good at understanding spoken English. I was a kid who did not get allowance money, or have a job but managed to save for important needs, and on this particular time, I desperately needed some good running shoes for competing, however, the clothing shops in the small town where I lived had only "Saroukh Brand", a generic plastic sneakers that stunk the minute you put them on. Not finding the right pair of competition-level shoes, I grabbed the meager savings I had and took the overnight train in the "Quatrième Classe" (the lowest economic class in the rear car of the train, with the chickens and goats) to the big city. After a few inquiries on where to find good running shoes in the largest city in Morocco, I was led to Souk Smat, a flea market of a sort in the old Medina of Casablanca. Zigzagging between the droves of people from one stall to the next, I finally hit the jackpot of the everything-abroad shop as if I stumbled on heaven. This shop specializes in imported black-market items from the US and Europe. There was running gear just like what the Track and Field stars (Lasse Viren, Frank Shorter, Henry Rono, to name a few who adorned my room walls) wore, all kinds of Levis Blue Jeans, hip sunglasses, some second-hand stuff as well, etc, in short, the coolest stuff ever for an insignificant kid from a Middle-of-Nowhere town. As I was haggling with the shopkeeper over these incredible Nike sneakers, I saw a Joan Baez album that I had never seen before with Baez in her iconic straw hat picture facing me in the corner of the tiny shop. My focus immediately shifted to "The Best Of Joan C. Baez" vinyl album, I asked the seemingly annoyed shopkeeper to play a couple of songs from the album for me before I bought it. From the minute the first song (Diamonds And Rust) started playing, I just lost it, and by the time "Prison Trilogy" song hit, I was sobbing in a trance-like fashion, not worrying about the gathered mesmerized crowd surrounding me or the shopkeeper. I will never forget that shop or that moment, it was like a freight train of emotions hit me at a vulnerable time with the most sincere words and music that only The Queen of Folk in her prime could create. I skipped the much-needed shoes, gave the shopkeeper all the money I had, and lingered on an empty stomach for hours (with my new-found treasure underarm) in the fascinating boulevards of Casablanca until the past-midnight train ride, so I could easily bunk the train for nearly 200 miles by getting off the train at almost every town and village and getting back on the last train car that the ticket inspector had just visited. Years later I eventually immigrated to the USA, officially named myself Dylan after his Bobness, and had a great family. I saw Bob Dylan, and Joan Baez many times in concerts, and my innocent youth promise, decades ago, was to meet Bob Dylan and Joan Baez in person. After many crazy attempts, I doubt that I will ever fulfill that dream of meeting Bob, but on the contrary, I have met Joan Baez in person twice; once backstage at a concert in Denver where I sang "Jari Ya Hamouda" with her, and once one evening on August 2, 1996, in the woods of Poudre Canyon in the Rocky Mountains near a small motel where she was staying during a very small outdoor concert at the Mishawaka Amphitheatre in Bellvue, Colorado. When we lived in Colorado Springs, My French friend Fabien LOEWENGUTH, who is also a big fan of Joan Baez, and I took the 4-hour drive with much anticipation to see Joan Baez, and after getting lost for a bit, we eventually made it in the nick of time, that concert was very low-key and just outstanding, especially being in the middle of the mountains, there were not many people, which made it fantastic for all the attendees and very intimate being very close to Joan Baez. I do not remember the songs she played, but the set was dreamy with a few songs from the Play Me Backwards album, I believe. Mid-concert, it started raining lightly and despite that, Joan insisted on playing until "it starts sparking" she said. Sure enough, the thunderous rain started sparking the electric cables, at which point the concert came to a frantic halt and everyone scattered for safety. Joan and the band ran uphill to the motel where they were staying, but the hardcore devotees huddled around hoping for a sign from Joan, however after an hour or so of relentless rain everyone left. Fabien kept insisting that we should also leave especially after the innkeeper kept pestering us and that we still had 4 hours of driving back home in severe weather conditions. I had brought a couple of Baez's books and about 40 or so sleeves from my collection of Joan Baez's official and non-official bootleg CDs with me just in case and refused to leave without at least having her autograph them. A few minutes passed when the innkeeper burst from the gate threatening to call the sheriff's office if we didn't leave immediately, I was in dismay, then sprung and lied to him that I flew in from Morocco and was not leaving unless he took Joan Baez's books and CD jackets to her, he agreed to do so, and I pulled my pen and wrote "you mean so much to the oppressed and the politically persecuted people of Morocco" and signed it "dylan" on the cover of the album that contains "Natalya Gorbanevskaya", a song about a Russian dissident who later became a close friend to Joan (I can't remember the album's title now). A long time went by and the rain had stopped, I thought, what a big mistake I made! I will never see my collection back. To my surprise, not only did I get everything back, but Joan Baez in all of her Majesty, brought them back with all humility, barefoot in a blue jeans shirt and shorts, and above all with the hugest welcoming smile that I have ever seen on Joan Baez. I was about to faint when she asked "Who is this Dylan?" Very funny I thought (Tears are rolling down my cheeks as I am typing this now). Among the things I sent with the innkeeper was a photograph of me and Joan Baez from my backstage visit with her the year prior that my wife took, so she mentioned that she remembered me well and my great singing, I told her that I had two choices to name myself, either Dylan or Gandhi, and that my wife preferred Dylan, and also that if I were a woman, I would have named myself Joan or Baez, and with a smirk, she thought that I should have gone with Gandhi. My friend Fabien joined us, and we took pictures and talked for what seemed an eternity about everything that mattered. She asked about my connection with Gandhi, about the Human Rights situation in Morocco, and was genuinely interested in us more than just as fans. It started to sprinkle again and was getting dark by now, we gave each other hugs and left, me with joy, disbelief, and part of my heart torn then and there. That was an experience of a lifetime, that only confirms my belief in Joan Baez as an incredible human being. Some months later, Joan Baez went to sing in Morocco for the first time, and I am convinced it was because of that encounter. My friends in Morocco don't believe that I had anything to do with it, of course not I assure them! Love to you Joan, and may you stay forever young.

[pawejamro]

"After all this time?"

"Always" said Joan Baez.

[richiemetal]

The best singer of all times, i'm Joan lover!

[basilemarie]

1000 merci, même si la voir maintenant me rappelle que moi aussi, j'ai cinquante ans de plus. Dans les années 60, le couple Dylan Baez était mythique.

[ahsanrauf]

She is a magician I can feel it while sitting far far away. Someone tell me how they compose like this. Uff 😢

[s.baumard]

merci Madame, vous êtes magnifique!
(et merci d'être venue dans cette émission quand elle était encore intéressante)

[mariafernandamoco]

Não precisa de mais nada, só a sua voz e a sua guitarra. Fenomenal❤

[donjoe]

"Strumming my pain with her fingers, signing my life with her song". This is in connection with "Killing me softly".

[scopex]

Like a fine Port Joan gets better with time MAGNIFIQUE!

[afj_ramses]

Esa maravillosa voz mezzo-soprano ya se siente cansada. Pero nunca olvidaremos a Joan en sus mejores tiempos. JAMAS !!

[donjoe]

"My poetry was ". The person who said was a tasteless heart. Unforgettable song.

[micheledespland]

quelle femme sublime, je l ai tjrs adoree

[arnoldblashak]

And I love you all now too I also love you all