Hissing Diamonds

As I noted in the previous dispatch, there is going to be a recurring series for the rest of the year. In the first long post of each month, I’m going to look back at a different year and consider a couple of albums that dropped then. The last year in review, if I can count correctly (honestly, a questionable proposition at times), will be 2015 for the calendar year of 2025.

So, to start this series, we’re going back to 1975. A tumultuous year in global history. Saigon had fallen, Ford had survived multiple assassination attempts, Ali whips Joe Frazier in the Thrilla in Manila, and Margaret Thatcher becomes the leader of the Conservative Party in England. While the world was spinning on its head, 1975 produced some absolutely seminal albums.

In a brief rundown of the year, there was Bob Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks, widely considered to be one of his best albums. There is the absolutely stunning Another Green World by Brian Eno. His previous band, Roxy Music, kept their 70s string of bangers going with Siren, another mixture of art rock and dance music held together by the luxurious croon of Bryan Ferry. There was Bruce Springsteen’s breakthrough Born to Run. Parliament made Mothership Connection, and hit an absolute home run. (Said mothership can be seen in the African American History Museum in D.C. I have seen it. It is so dope.) If you wanted to stay on the funk train, you could listen to Earth Wind & Fire’s That’s the Way of the World, which features “Shining Star” and “Happy Feelin’.” There are also legendary albums from this year by the likes of David Bowie, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, John Cale, Tangerine Dream, and Steely Dan. I must also note that this is only the men.

Women were absolutely crushing in 1975, despite the music press’s attempts to deny them all of their flowers through misogyny. There was the debut album of Heart, Dreamboat Annie. Minnie Riperton, following on the success of “Loving You,” released Adventures in Paradise, another stellar release in her catalog. The world was introduced to two absolute powerhouses this year: Emmylou Harris and Patti Smith. Harris’s album Piece of the Sky showed off her phenomenal songwriting and her ability to make other people’s songs her own. What can I, A.C. Hawley, say about Patti Smith’s Horses in 2025 that other people have not already said? Nothing, honestly. When I listened to the album for the first time in full, which was embarrassingly late in my life, I was absolutely floored. It was moving, powerful, and masterful. The woman staring out intensely from the cover conveys the complexity of that pose through her music and her words. An all-time album for me as I am sure it is for many of you.

In addition to these women, there were two other albums by women that I will focus on for the rest of this post: Joan Baez’s Diamonds and Rust and Joni Mitchell’s Hissing of Summer Lawns. When I decided on these two albums, it was because they are women whose work I wanted to explore more. I know that both are widely respected singer-songwriters whose work is frequently covered by others, but I did not know the ins and outs of their music. This was perfect for me because I wanted to judge these albums mostly on the music, as the commentary around an album can never truly be avoided.

Once I listened to the albums and did a modicum of research, it turns up that this decision was slightly more inspired than I thought it would be. Both women, as it happened, were in the midst of career redefinitions. For Baez, she was transitioning from playing with just her guitar to playing with a full band, taking advantage of all the benefits that it can provide. Mitchell was continuing the transition away from folk that started on Court and Spark (1974). In 1975, both artists released self-produced albums that merged their folk/singer-songwriter roots with jazz-based instrumentation. The results could not have been more different. On the one side, you have the accessible Diamonds and Rust. On the other side, there is the experimental Hissing of Summer Lawns.

Let’s start with Diamonds and Rust. Baez starts this album with the classic title track. With clear, unflinching language, Baez examines her relationship with Bob Dylan. She clearly still has affection for him, but she is also willing to call him out on some of his terrible behavior like being emotionally distant and insulting her poetry. On this track, Baez’s voice is crystalline as she glides over her guitar and the smooth accompaniment of her band.

The remainder of the album is a stellar fusion of Baez’s lovely voice with jazzy instrumentation. The sound is mellow and easily accessible. It would be great to listen to on a summer day. And none of the tracks would really have been out of place in a 1970s radio rotation. If you think that the political Joan Baez has disappeared, she has not. That Joan reappears on “Hello in There,” a song about how society disregards its elderly. Another excellent track is “Dida,” a wordless duet with Joni Mitchell that is fun and lively, showing two stars just vibing off each other in the best way possible. Baez ends this album with a cover of “Danny Boy,” which is frankly confusing. But, it is sung so well you can table your questions about its odd presence here.

As I noted earlier, Baez and Mitchell set out to make albums where they controlled the sound and vision. Whereas Baez is presenting a much more accessible idea of how to fuse jazz ideas within a folk context, Mitchell is working on a completely different level. Hissing of Summer Lawns is avant-garde, challenging listeners through its storytelling and instrumentation. The first track, the single “In France They Kiss on Main Street,” Mitchell tells a story about young, free love to gentle jazzy instrumentation. After this track, Mitchell immediately upsets your perspective with “The Jungle Line,” with its Moog synthesizer lines and heavily treated samples of tribal drumming from Burundi. It’s engaging, but it is not an easy listen. And this sentence encapsulates the entirety of this album.

Mitchell maintains her sharp tongue in her lyrics throughout the album. For example, she writes a brutal takedown of the LA bohemian scene on the aptly titled “The Boho Dance.” She spends a lot of time taking down the institution of marriage. On the title track, Mitchell presents marriage as a gilded cage. Furthermore, the women are forced to take on all of the sadness of the men with no regard to their feelings. Even though she sees nothing positive, Mitchell still sees the woman staying. These lyrics are contrasted by the excellent work of her studio band and the extensive use of modern instruments such as the aforementioned Moog and the ARP synthesizer. From track to track, you can hear that Mitchell is aiming for something greater than radio play. She wants to make a grand artistic statement, and I think that she easily succeeded at this goal.

When we consider these two albums together, we see two all-time greats operating at an extremely high level, making albums and songs that have withstood the test of time. When we look at the entire year, we see a bunch of artists who have made albums that are still in many people’s listening rotations, albums that are widely considered seminal classics. Will we have the same luck with 1985? We’ll have to wait until next month to find out whether that is the case.

As always, thank you for reading. I’ll be back next week with the Spins. I have some ideas for formatting, but we’ll see if I remember them then. Again, take care of yourselves and one another.