Review: In Clearwater, Judy Collins tells life stories in between unmatched covers and new originals

As a struggling young musician in the late 1950s, Judy Collins’ ex-husband Peter Taylor was getting tired of having little to no money, and very politely requested that she get a steadier job.

“In 1959, people didn’t know you could do this and make a living,” Collins told a doting Thursday night crowd at Clearwater’s Bilheimer Capitol Theatre, later adding that she’s still skeptical about it sometimes. “I’m doing fine though, thank you. I have…resources.”

The 84-year-old folk singer (who initially started writing songs in 1967, thanks to encouragement from her friend Leonard Cohen) came out at 8:00 on the dot Thursday night, shoulder-to-shoulder between pianist Robbie Kondor and guitarist-slash-steel pedal master Thad DeBockand, with her main weapon, an acoustic 12-string, on hand.

Collins’ first few minutes onstage were admittedly a bit rough, but she seemed to count it as a warm-up of sorts. After almost starting with “Both Sides Now,” she quickly acknowledged that it was a mistake and instead sang the first verse of Pete Seeger’s “Where Have All The Flowers Gone” acapella, before smoothly rolling into her ‘90s original “Mountain Girl.”

There’s no question that Collins’ vocals have aged slightly and even had a few groggy, quivery moments (which mostly occurred in the first ten-or-so minutes of her annual 90-minute gig in downtown Clearwater), but considering how vocally complex the vast majority of her older-than-Beatles catalog is, you try being 84 years old and singing two different octaves for four minutes straight.

Outside of stories about her father singing Great American Songbook selections to her as a child (which she has rechristened as the “Rod Stewart songbook”), and reminding fans that she lives in New York and not California—contrary to popular belief—most of Collins’ tales in between every song centered around her 60-plus year friendships and experiences. There was the time she was woken up at 3 a.m. by her friend, Al Kooper, who had called in after just having met some young songwriter named Joni Mitchell, who proceeded to sing her “Both Sides Now” over the phone.

There was when she was woken up by Bob Dylan vocalizing the melody to what would become “Mr. Tambourine Man” two hours after a party at legendary rock manager Al Grossman’s house. Oh, and she’ll never forget the undying support she received from Joan Baez’ mom, who sent her more fan mail than the folk hero ever did. “I reminded her of that, too!” Collins, who recently bought her friend’s painting of the mother, joked.

She even got the whole room laughing when telling a non-sequitur of a story about a friend she had who told her that he couldn’t stop smoking, but didn’t want to anyway. “If you want to stop smoking, you have to realize that if anybody takes a cigarette into their body, God takes an hour of your life and gives it to Keith Richards,” she declared, later adding how Mick Jagger’s “laugh-line” wrinkles are irregular.

Yep, Judy Collins quoted an actual Internet meme.

And you know what? The crowd was totally having it.

Yes, pearls were clutched (in a positive manner) at the opening notes of “Send In The Clowns,” and I don’t think there was an empty crevasse of the 103-year-old theatre when she closed with “Both Sides, Now.” But even her self-written tracks off of Spellbound—her first entirely-original album that only released two years ago—were smiled upon, especially with the high-notes that capped each song, all of which came out more relaxing and beautiful than operatically powerful and stirring.

Really gives you hope for making a living as a musician in 2024, huh? Maybe someday.
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