The Harmony Of Illusions

In all the craziness over the past few weeks I never got a chance to write about Josh Groban’s new album, Harmony. Wait, wait, before anyone rolls their eyes and deletes this post, I promise not to gush over the entire album, although it is the quintessential collection of songs for this sorry excuse of a year. 😊 I will, however, gush over one song: “Both Sides Now.” It’s a poignant take on perception that’s sad and tragic in its own right but takes on new meaning as we shove 2020 out the door.

Harmony released just before Thanksgiving on Nov. 20, and boy, oh, boy was I one grateful momma! Music has been the cornerstone of my mental well-being this year and no one plucks my heart strings like Josh. As soon as the first song started, I felt the old familiar stirrings of bliss, nostalgia, and peace that always wash over me whenever I hear his new music. It was pure catharsis, every song better than the last. And then the first instrumental notes of “Both Sides Now” came on. O.M.G., I was mesmerized. I had been so excited and anxious to hear this song since I discovered it was a duet with the amazing Sara Bareilles, someone I’ve come to admire hugely the past few years. Her music, her lyrics tell the story of my life, across heartbreak, loneliness, depression, life in the big city. I once called Josh my musical soulmate and he always will be. But if I ever had to name a close second, it would be Sara Bareilles. She’s … incomparable.

Anyway, I stopped everything just to listen to this song and before I knew it, tears were pouring down my face. You never know what to expect when it comes to duets, especially when they involve your all-time favorite singer, whose angelic Voice soars on its own. All it takes is one wrong choice to tank a song. For example, one of my favorite Christmas songs is “The First Noel,” so I was pumped to see it on Josh’s Noël. Unfortunately, he chose to sing it as a duet with Faith Hill and, UGH, she totally ruined it for me. It would have been better—by far—if he had sung it solo. Not in this case, though! The powerhouse duo of Josh’s operatic baritone and Sara’s mezzo-soprano is, quite simply, breath-taking! It hits you all at once: the opening piano, the instrumentals, the vocals, the beautifully relatable lyrics written by Joni Mitchell, a brilliant artist from the late ’60s and ’70s. I fell instantly, desperately in love.

The best way I can describe it is this: Do you ever listen to a song for the first time and turn completely to mush because you feel it so deeply? Where it stirs up all these crazy memories and emotions that slowly take over your body? To the point where you get this cavernous pit in your stomach and you’re so overwhelmed by its power that you’re almost nauseous—but in the most spectacular, cathartic way? Does music do this to anyone else? It may sound loony and unappealing, but I love when something (a song, a painting, a poem) elicits such a strong emotional reaction. It makes me feel more human somehow, although admittedly I am an extremely sentimental person who wears her heart on her sleeve. But what a powerful tool for an artist. I would love for my writings to have this effect on someone, anyone. Maybe one day …

If you’re wondering why this particular track hit me so profoundly (besides the whole Josh-Sara dynamic—can they please just get married already?!), I think the reasons are twofold. First, we all know this has been a hard year. This pandemic has turned our world upside down and severely changed our perspectives in many ways, some good, some bad. When you’re struggling, it’s so easy to get caught up in the illusions of life and love and loss and this song really hammers that home. That’s what I appreciate most about music—or any art for that matter: its ability to make you think, to change your viewpoint, to make you feel connected. It doesn’t get any more universal than that, and unity is more important than ever in this harrowing, divisive year.

And second, I was already head over heels for this song before I even heard Josh’s version, I just never knew the title. I’ve written several times about my love affair with movie and TV soundtracks. For me, it’s usually the music, not the acting (though it obviously plays a role), that packs an emotional punch in whatever I’m watching. Enter, the original “Both Sides Now.” If you’re a fan of the movie Love Actually (and who wouldn’t be), you may remember the gut-wrenching scene toward the end where Emma Thompson’s character discovers her cheating husband gifted another (younger) woman a gold necklace she herself expected to open on Christmas morning. Instead, she excitedly rips open a copy of Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides Now album, after which she struggles to maintain her composure and quickly retreats to her bedroom for a good cry as Mitchell’s song of the same name plays in the background (and annihilates your soul).

This devastating and heartbreaking scene is arguably the movie’s best. Emma Thompson is perfection with her still, silent, tragic performance. And set against this stirring song—and the beautifully haunting way Joni Mitchell sings it—it’s agonizing to watch, especially if you’ve ever been a victim of infidelity (which, sadly, I have). I’ve seen Love Actually dozens of times (it’s a must-see on our Merry, Merry Christmas Movie List year after year) and this scene never fails to reduce me to tears … to a puddle, in fact. All you have to do is read/listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand what I mean (these verses about love are just a small taste):

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way that you feel
As every fairy tale comes real
I’ve looked at love that way

But now it’s just another show
And you leave ’em laughing when you go
And if you care, don’t let them know
Don’t give yourself away

I’ve looked at love from both sides now
From give and take and still somehow
It’s love’s illusions that I recall
I really don’t know love
Really don’t know love at all

As I said, I’m a puddle.

It’s rare, in my opinion, that a remake of a song trumps the original, but this one is a solid contender for sure. After I listened to Josh and Sara’s version a million times, I went back and played Joni’s as a comparison and I have to say it’s really hard for me to choose. They are both exquisite. In Joni’s voice, you can feel the passion, the awe, the inspiration, but also the debilitating pain, loneliness, delusion that must have moved her to write this solemn song. I relate to her in so, so many ways. And then there’s my Josh. He puts a beautiful mark on any classic he chooses to sing, both with his Voice and the orchestral arrangements he and his band put together, and this version is no exception. Or maybe it is because when you’re smart enough to add a crooner like Sara Bareilles, well, stick a fork in me, people. I simply adore them together. They were both on their A game when they recorded this, and their voices meld beautifully! This song will stay at the top of my list across all Josh albums, and that is truly saying something considering the length of my list. I just hope I’ll have the chance to hear them sing it live one day!

See?! I stuck to my promise! I didn’t gush over Josh’s entire album. 😊 I would, however, be remiss not to mention a few other goodies that stand out:

  • “The Impossible Dream,” from the 1965 Broadway musical Man of La Mancha (written by Mitch Leigh [music] and Joe Darion [lyrics]; this is another one off the album that makes me cry)
  • “Celebrate Me Home” (Kenny Loggins)
  • “Your Face” (Josh Groban)
  • “Angels” (Robbie Williams and Guy Antony Chambers)

Harmony may not be my “original” Josh, but it’s a damn good album worthy of these beloved classics. If I’ve managed to convince anyone still reading to listen to at least one song from Harmony, make sure it’s “Both Sides Now.” It is well, well worth your time. And while you’re at it, Google Joni’s version, too. She’s a genius.

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