Folk icon sold out her show in Boulder last Saturday. Veterans of the ’60s are now in their 60s, and they formed a polite, adoring audience for Baez, a singer-songwriter-activist in the camp of the living legends.
Baez’s once raven-black hair was nearly as white as her slacks, but she appeared handsome as always. Baez opened her set alone with her guitar; and when she opened her mouth and unleashed the first few notes, her voice of clarity and courage took us back.
Born in 1941, Baez admitted she’s lost the upper reaches of her youthful soprano, but her voice still carries strength and delicacy. Baez knows what she’s capable of and stays within her range.
Baez still carries the social justice banner fearlessly, as she has since the late ‘60s during the civil rights movement and the Vietnam War. Her politics continue to cost her fans. She related an anecdote about a woman stomping over to the merchandise table to return a CD after Baez voiced support for immigrants. “I hope she got her pride back,” Baez said.
Baez seems above it all. She opts for songs with a sense of history or poetry. And she’s humble. Baez once said, “It seems to me that those songs that have been any good, I have nothing much to do with the writing of them. The words have just crawled down my sleeve and come out on the page.”
Her Chautauqua set list included a variety of covers, including a heart-rending rendition of “Suzanne,” by Leonard Cohen; a contemporary peace song titled “Scarlet Tide” by Elvis Costello; a smoky version of “House of the Rising Sun,” which Baez learned at age 18 and “still virginal.”
Baez, who had a brief tryst with Bob Dylan and helped launch his career when she invited him on stage, sang a pair of Dylan songs—“Forever Young” and “Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Heart”—a rambling ballad a band member dubbed “’The Illiad’ of folk songs.”
Before Baez sang Woody Guthrie’s protest song “Deportee”—also called “Plane Wreck at Los Gatos”—she dedicated the song, “to all the people in Arizona intelligent enough to fight that despicable law. We’re all illegal, undocumented workers. Can you imagine the Native Americans checking the paperwork of the pilgrims?” Baez’s stalwart band added a mariachi flair to the old tune with new implications.
As in days of yore, Baez—of Mexican, Scottish and English descent– performed some songs in Spanish. Her music reflects her heritage, her politics, and her earnestness: “If you listen closely, all these songs are unhappy, but we manage to make some rhythmic to trick you,” she said with a laugh.
Baez is serious about justice and peace, yet not humorless. Introducing her band–three guys on strings and one percussion—she mentioned the lute-like instrument known as a bazuki: “We don’t say that in airports,” Baez joked.
But her influence is no joke: Her song-crafting shaped not only ears, but eras.
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Colleen Smith, a longtime contributor to The Denver Post, will release her first novel this summer. Visit or for details.
