Both Sides Now
The inspiring intergenerational collaborations at the 2024 Grammys, and an open thread about our own similar experiences.
Readers,
If you’ve been around the Oldster scene a while, you know how much I value intergenerational conversation—that it’s part of my mission to foster more of it through this publication. (And if you’re new here, welcome!)
Personally, I enjoy interacting with people of all ages. I’m 58, and my friends range from their 20s through their 90s. (I had a friend who was over 100, but she passed away at 105 a couple of years ago.) When I’m hanging out with any of them, connecting over the things that matter to us, any chronological disparity seems to fall away, and we just become peers—people traveling through time in human bodies, despite going through different phases of life.
Granted, as something of a student of aging, I might ask them about what it’s like to be however old they are, or tell them what I’m going through. (Nine times out of ten I’ll start glowing from a massive hot flash, and it will become a topic of conversation.) Still, it always feels more like I’m conversing with a fellow time-traveler than with someone older or younger than me. I find it thrilling.
I’m curious about other people’s experiences with this. Do you have the good fortune of enjoying intergenerational friendships? Creative or work collaborations? Tell us about them in the comments.
Knowing how I feel about this, you can imagine how moved I was to see three shining examples of intergenerational friendship and collaboration at this year’s Grammy Awards. I’m talking about three long-established singer-songwriters collaborating with much younger musicians, adding new wrinkles—no pun intended—to older acts:
80-year-old Joni Mitchell performing “Both Sides Now”—a song she first wrote and recorded in 1966—with 42-year-old Brandi Carlile, plus a bunch of other young musicians and backup singers. (In an essay originally published in The Times of London, Brandi Carlile tells the story behind their collaboration.)
74-year-old Billy Joel performing “Turn the Lights Back On,” a song he recently co-wrote with 37-year-old Freddy Wexler, after Joel thought he was done making new music. (In the New York Times, Caryn Ganz has the story of how this collaboration came about.)
59-year-old Tracy Chapman performing “Fast Car,” her 1988 hit, with Luke Combs, the 33-year-old country singer whose recent cover of the song helped Chapman’s version become a number-one hit once again, and to make her the first Black woman ever to top the country charts. (In the New York Times, Lindsay Zoladz offers some context on this collaboration.)
I was moved to tears by these performances. They also sent me down rabbit holes of earlier performances by the three elders of each collaboration. They’ve all been prolific, visionary artists since they were in their early 20s. And they remain powerful performers now. It’s inspiring.
In an Instagram post, my friend Chris Wells wrote something about his reaction to Mitchell and Carlile’s performance of “Both Sides Now” that was so touching, I asked if I could share it with you all here. It helps to know Chris is currently living in his childhood home while he and his husband Bobby prepare it for sale, after having just moved his 87-year-old mother (and her cat) into senior housing. You can read more about that here:
So here’s what Chris wrote in his Instagram post about Mitchell and “Both Sides Now”:
Here are some questions: how did a 23 year old write that song? How is she able to bring something fresh to it every single time she sings it? How did she know the 80 something version of herself would need that song so many years later? And how did she know I would need it, too, at the age of 59, heading back to California to wrap up this project of my family’s home? Something’s lost and something’s gained in living every day. Indeed.
Here’s Joni at 26 in 1969 performing “Both Sides Now” on the Mama Cass Show:
What a genius. (I officially forgive her for walking off stage after performing only a few songs at Boston Common on July 20th, 1983, when some friends and I pooled our babysitting money for tickets, and drove all the way to Boston in someone’s rickety old Datsun just to see her.)
Okay, back to the matter at hand. Wherever you are on the age spectrum, I want to hear about your friendships and collaborations with people much younger or older than you. Tell me in the comments…
-Sari
Oh Sari, thank you for this. Just last night I was sitting in our hot tub (thank you craigslist) in my back yard in Iowa. It was thirty something degrees and I was there with two wonderful thirty somethings. We sat in the comfortable hot water talking and sharing, I am 74. There really were no barriers to what we felt and shared. I have older friends and same age friends, but the friends I totally enjoy are my young friends. I have had a remarkable life as an organic farmer and activist and have been a mentor to many young women. Being a mentor is a two way street. I have learned as much if not more than I have given. I am grateful everyday for the life I have lived and continue to live.
When I turned 80 a few months ago, i took a month-long Octo-Odyysey across the Canada that's west of me to visit daughters (in their 50s) and grandkids (in their teens) and cousins and sibs (slightly younger) and a newfound colleagues and friend (my daughters' age) from a Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Non-Fiction that I completed last spring. Every couple of weeks I visit with my 95-year-old friend who lives a few kilometres down the road; he was the first to hire my husband when he arrived in Canada in the early 70's fleeing the Vietnam war. I have a lodger who is 28 and maintains trails and campgrounds for a local municipality. I have a downstairs renter who is doing what she describes as her last paying gig as a senior municipal employee. I was an empathetic ear to my previous single-mother tenant as she maneuvered her way through her daughter's adolescence, and a took a tough-love stance when her life was up-ended by the return of two failure-to-launch sons. I provide neighbourly support to tenants, mostly in family phase, as part of an unstaffed not-for-profit housing initiative that I founded in my very rural community in rugged Canadian Shield country. My 95-year-old friend says the 80s are the sweet spot: full permission to be self-directed and the body is still cooperating. That pretty closely describes my experience.