Friends of Type

Digitized by Dan Cassaro

I had to throw some Mom Rock in here, it’s only fair. I can sometimes have a pretty low breaking point for Joni Mitchell, but everything about this live performance at The Band’s The Last Waltz is perfect. The reigning queen of Laurel Canyon (sorry Mama Cass) emerges from a sea of Neil Young’s cocaine snot bubbles and effortlessly rises above the misogynistic manboy’s club that was the 1970’s LA Dad Rock scene. No regrets, indeed. – Dan

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