When Joe brought in John Wood to record the duo of my twin sister and me, their first work together in 20 years, we got a sample of what our heroes Nick Drake and Sandy Denny had experienced before us. “Sorry,” we would say automatically into the microphone after a flubbed take. “Sorry never fucked the pig,” John would respond gruffly and inexplicably. And Joe sat there like a psychoanalyst during the transference phase, mediating by emotional connection, a kind of love that ended when the session did. When the mixing began, Joe’s psychic engagement in the process increased tenfold. More than once I went home with what I thought were final mixes only to discover that Joe had gone back into the studio and remixed the entire recording. There was something immensely subversive about maintaining this purist stance while all around us dabbled in the latest techniques, but that was in keeping with Joe’s legacy.
JOE BOYD | Club Passim, 47 Palmer St, Cambridge | April 4 | 617.492.7679
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