Coyote

One of my favorite films is Martin Scorcese’s The Last Waltz. If you’ve never seen this film run don’t walk to your video store or else put it into your Netflix queue. After 16 years of touring, The Band (Rick Danko, Levon Helm, Garth Hudson, Richard Manuel, Robbie Robertson) decided to film a final appearance in 1976 on Thanksgiving Day with friends including Dr. John, Neil Young, Muddy Waters, Eric Clapton, Van Morrison, Bob Dylan, Ringo Starr, Ron Wood, and Joni Mitchell. As one of Scorcese’s finest films, in a career of masterpieces, The Last Waltz is one of the more interesting music documentaries of all time. Others in that list would have to include Thelonious Monk: Straight No Chaser, Don’t Look Back, The Filth and the Fury, Gimme Shelter, Wild Man Blues, Buena Vista Social Club, Jazz on a Summer’s Day, and Monterey Pop. The performances of Dr. John and Joni Mitchell show how jazz music seeped into the rock world and became another ingredient in the gumbo that the music of New Orleans became. Joni Mitchell’s offbeat, and sometimes improvised, singing style and Dr. John’s performance especially are proof of jazz music’s subtle influence. Joni Mitchell isn't a jazz artist per se, but it's interesting to see the way she handles the vocals to her song, Coyote. I've always loved her lyrics, too.

No regrets Coyote
We just come from such different sets of circumstance
I'm up all night in the studios
And you're up early on your ranch
You'll be brushing out a brood mare's tail
While the sun is ascending
And I'll just be getting home with my reel to reel...
There's no comprehending
Just how close to the bone and the skin and the eyes
And the lips you can get
And still feel so alone
And still feel related
Like stations in some relay
You're not a hit and run driver, no, no
Racing away
You just picked up a hitcher
A prisoner of the white lines on the freeway

We saw a farmhouse burning down
In the middle of nowhere
In the middle of the night
And we rolled right past that tragedy
Till we turned into some road house lights
Where a local band was playing
Locals were up kicking and shaking on the floor
And the next thing I know
That Coyote's at my door
He pins me in a corner and he won't take "No!"
He drags me out on the dance floor
And we're dancing close and slow
Now he's got a woman at home
He's got another woman down the hall
He seems to want me anyway
Why'd you have to get so drunk
And lead me on that way
You just picked up a hitcher
A prisoner of the white lines of the freeway

I looked a Coyote right in the face
On the road to Baljennie near my old home town
He went running thru the whisker wheat
Chasing some prize down
And a hawk was playing with him
Coyote was jumping straight up and making passes
He had those same eyes - just like yours
Under your dark glasses
Privately probing the public rooms
And peeking thru keyholes in numbered doors
Where the players lick their wounds
And take their temporary lovers
And their pills and powders to get them thru this passion play

No regrets, Coyote
I just get off up aways
You just picked up a hitcher
A prisoner of the white lines on the freeway

Coyote's in the coffee shop
He's staring a hole in his scrambled eggs
He picks up my scent on his fingers
While he's watching the waitresses' legs
He's too fat from the Bay of Fundy
From Appaloosas and Eagles and tides
And the air conditioned cubicles
And the carbon ribbon rides
Are spelling it out so clear
Either he's going to have to stand and fight
Or take off out of here
I tried to run away myself
To run away and wrestle with my ego
And with this flame
You put here in this Eskimo
In this hitcher
In this prisoner
Of the fine white lines
Of the white lines on the free, free way