5 Covers Of Joni Mitchell Songs That Capture The Poetic Magic Of The Originals

Joni Mitchell has been recognized for her music for decades now and has made adoring fans out of almost everyone. That includes fellow musical greats like Herbie Hancock and Prince, many of whom have covered her work. The folk singer, who began her career in the late '60s, has become renowned for rich, almost magical songs. When it comes to covers, the best stand out for how they engage with the original song while still keeping the poetic soul of Mitchell's work intact. It's a tough equation to work out, but these songs exemplify that delicate balance.

That list of covers is extensive, with Mitchell's official site estimating that one of her most beloved singles, "Both Sides Now," has been adapted over 1,800 times — and she wrote it when she was only 23. Some are straight imitations of the originals, but the best capture the poetry of Mitchell's work while also bringing their own unique artistry. Could you really expect Prince to not put his own spin on "A Case of You," or ask Tina Turner to tone it down for "Edith and the Kingpin"? These covers manage to take Mitchell's poetic magic and lend some of their own, carrying forward her legacy of deeply moving work.

The original version of "A Case of You" enters with an Appalachian dulcimer strumming out a sweet, plaintive melody paired with Joni Mitchell's wistful lyrics and vibrato-heavy voice. She's telling her (perhaps former) partner that "Oh, you are in my blood like holy wine / You taste so bitter and so sweet / Oh, I could drink a case of you, darling." Who could take that complex, aching tune and turn it into something altogether new? Prince, of course.

Prince's version from "One Nite Alone" starts with the "lonely painter" stanza. Perhaps reflecting his 2003 baptism as a Jehovah's Witness and enthusiasm for proselytizing, he says he "used to be frightened by the devil" (Mitchell's original says "I'm frightened by the devil"). It features a deeper, darker sound and funkier rhythm, crafting a truly transformative cover. This sounds less like something performed at a folk festival and more something you would catch in an intimate, dimly lit venue. 

Prince greatly respected Mitchell before his own career truly began. In an appearance on "The Jay Leno Show" in 1995, Mitchell told the host she remembered seeing the star in the front row at a Minneapolis show in the '70s. "I played a lot of my set to him," she said. "Very young and impressionable musician, so I guess that night meant something to him." At one of Prince's final concerts in 2016, he left the stage after covering "A Case of You," overcome by its impact even after decades covering it. "Sometimes I forget how emotional these songs can be," he told the audience (via the Los Angeles Times).

"I Don't Know Where I Stand," off Joni Mitchell's 1969 "Clouds" album, expresses uneasy uncertainty. Yet it's delivered in a confident tone, with Mitchell maintaining that she spent her day "looking for laughter and finding it there." Still, the minor key and guitar line give it a plaintiveness that never resolves. Before this song was even officially released, it was so interesting that it was covered by British folk rock group Fairport Convention. Their cover transforms it into a lush, psychedelic song with a full band, backup vocals, and modulation that makes lead singer (and Led Zeppelin's only guest vocalist) Sandy Denny's voice sound as if it's coming from another dimension.

Richard Thompson, the band's co-founder and guitarist, was effusive in his praise of Mitchell. "We recognized that she had already joined the pantheon of great writers we were hearing at the time, like Dylan and Leonard Cohen," he told Tidal. When they came into possession of her demos, courtesy of her publisher, it became clear that they had to put their own take on her work before she inevitably became more popular.

After producer Joe Boyd keyed the band members into Mitchell's genius, Fairport Convention was hooked and covered other of her songs, including "Chelsea Morning" and "Eastern Rain." Michell also performed with them, with their 1968 concert at the Royal Festival Hall marking her live debut in London. By then, her first album, "Song to a Seagull," had just been released.

By the middle of the '70s, Joni Mitchell was getting bored. The folk scene in which she'd gotten her start had served her well, but an artist of her caliber was never going to be satisfied cooling her heels in one genre. So, she got experimental. Her long-held love of jazz came into play on "The Hissing of Summer Lawns," released in 1975, but Mitchell also used synthesizers and sampling, including a drum beat featuring Burundian musicians on "The Jungle Line." 

Some have come to love this work; Prince even called it "the last album I loved all the way through" (via Rolling Stone). "The Jungle Line" in particular is surreal, impressionistic, and unafraid of racial and social commentary ("They'll eat a working girl like her alive," goes one line). But at the time, critics got snippy. As Mitchell told Musician magazine in 1983, "The Burundi thing on "The Jungle Line"? They killed me for that. The worst album of the year."

But Herbie Hancock disagrees. The renowned jazz pianist and composer not only has 14 Grammys, but he's also Mitchell's friend. They've appeared on each other's albums multiple times, and Hancock devoted an entire 2007 album, "River: The Joni Letters," to her work. His cover of "The Jungle Line" features Leonard Cohen (another Mitchell friend and the composter of the much-covered "Hallelujah") reading out the lyrics. His careworn voice over Hancock's improvisational playing transforms it into spoken word poetry, presenting a cover that directly confronts you with the lyrics, moving and unsettling listeners all at the same time.

Another entry from "The Hissing of Summer Lawns," the song "Edith and the Kingpin" takes listeners to a moody place full of modulated bass, flutes, horns, and eerie, phraseless vocals. In it, Mitchell describes an interaction between the song's title gangster and Edith, a young woman apparently meant to be consumed by the nameless man. But there are hints that the stereotypes are wrong. "Edith and the Kingpin / Each with charm to sway / Are staring eye to eye, they dare not look away," concludes Mitchell. Perhaps Edith is more canny than we first thought, and there is a hint of vulnerability in the pair's inability to tear themselves away from what could be a romantic or horrified gaze.

With such a rich original, Herbie Hancock naturally took a crack at it for "River: The Joni Letters." Here, Tina Turner — sometimes dubbed the "Queen of Rock 'n' Roll" — takes her place in a somehow even moodier interpretation that sounds like it was plucked straight from a noir film. Reportedly, the guitar track was also recorded by an uncredited Prince. This version has a slower tempo, more jazz improvisation and less synthesizer, while Turner's voice has a gritty character that sounds almost jaded, as if the singer has seen it all before. With Mitchell's original, you might get the sense that the singer is one of Edith's cohort, but the stylish Hancock/Turner cover sounds beautiful, sad, and menacing, half reminiscence and half warning.

Talking to the CBC in 1994, Joni Mitchell said that someone once told her that her songs were too sad. Their advice? Write something in the daytime. Mitchell tried, but after reading a newspaper headline about burials at the site of one of Ireland's defunct Magdalene laundries, she was so struck by the tragic tale that she decided to write about that, instead. 

The result, "The Magdalene Laundries," was released on 1994's "Turbulent Indigo." It features moody, morphing bass lines and haunting synth alongside traditional guitar. Mitchell's voice alternates between strength and whisper as despair looms. The result is heartbreaking and beautiful, though not without controversy. In a 1998 backstage interview at Madison Square Garden, she said that she was confronted by an Irish woman in a bar, who asked, "What business is it of yours to be writing about our business?" The woman then admitted she liked the song and planned to play it for her own mother.

In 2007, country artist Emmylou Harris released her version of the track on "A Tribute to Joni Mitchell." It doesn't differ as dramatically from the original as other covers, but it does contain a powerful change in Harris' voice. It's clear and bright, illuminating the harshness and pain in the lyrics. Harris' voice breaks at the height of some phrases when you might feel ready to buckle yourself under the weight of what the song describes. Harris' cover is also even more spare than Mitchell's original. There's still that dreamy, haunted synth, though it's more faint compared to the vocals, and the sharper guitar is more characteristic of old-school country songs than the folk-influenced Mitchell version.