Judy Collins

Published Mar 1, 2022, 1:00 PM

To kick off our month long celebration of Women's History Month, today we are featuring an interview with the great Judy Collins. At 82 years-old, Collins is in the midst of a creative shift. She first made a name for herself in the 60’s folk revival covering songs by artists like Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan. But this year, for the first time in her career, she’s released an album written entirely by herself. The album’s called Spellbound. And the music feels right at home with some of the best in her catalog.

On today's episode she tells tells Bruce Headlam about her recent burst of activity, which includes six albums in the last six years. They also talk about her working relationship with Leonard Cohen, and how she actually lived the rugged life that peers like Dylan could only sing about.

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Hear a playlist of all of our favorite Judy Collins songs HERE.

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Pushkin. Hey, y'all, it's justin Richmond. To kick off our celebration of Women's History Month, we have the great singer and interpreter of song, Judy Collins, who, at eighty two years old, is in the midst of a creative shift in the way she works. Collins made her name during the sixties folk Revival, covering songs by other artists like Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan, using her crisp soprano to transform them. But this year, for the first time in her career, she's released an album written entirely by herself. The album's called Spellbound, in the music feels right at home with some of the best in her catalog. Here's her song When I Was a Girl in Colorado, a sweet ode to the beautiful land of the West. Nestled between soft pedal steel, Judy Collins has managed to retain the vibrancy in her voice that made her a commodity all those years ago in the East Village and has kept pushing the bounds of her creativity. She tells Bruce Hedlam on today's episode about her recent burst of activity, which not only includes this album, but five others. That's six in the last six years. They also discussed her working relationship with Leonard Cohen and how she actually lived the rugged life that peers like Dylan could only sing about. This is broken record liner notes for the digital age. I'm justin Richmond. Here's Bruce Headlam with Judy Collins. Since you've turned eighty, you've got your first number one, and you're touring, and you've got this great new album. Everyone should hear. Particularly the version of sending the Clowns with just a piano is so beautiful, good, so beautiful, and such a beautiful ending to that album. This new album coming out, in which I've written all the songs. I do a lot of writing anyway, but I wrote a lot of songs during the pandemic, polished up a bunch that had been hanging around waiting to be looked at and taken seriously. And it was challenging. But I've some some of those songs in concert now and we'll see. I'm very happy with it. That's exciting. When you heard songs, how did you know this is a song for me? I can make this work. Well, that's DNA, that's history. That's what you were like as a child. That's what you heard. That's how you were trained. That's how you learned how to learn all the songs of the Great American Songbook, which my father made our living with singing. Your father was a musician, we should say, yes. He was a wonderful singer. And then I was born in thirty nine. And then he went on to have a radio career which lasted thirty years, and we went from Seattle to la to Denver. I was always able to see him perform and hear him perform, and watch and learn how to do this thing to have a career, and the secret being you show up on time in most cases and you do your work. No matter how much he drank, he always was happy in the morning and clear. And I don't know how he did it, but I learned to do something in my career and not have it be blown apart by my tendency to drink too much, which I really think I learned that from him. You're drinking, which was prodigious, prodigious, Yeah, did it ever interfere? Were their mornings you couldn't perform, or evenings you couldn't perform, Not until the last year, until seventy seven, and then I was canceling right and left. I didn't drink on stage until that year either, and I always would keep the day clear, and then I would drink after the show. I knew by the time it was nineteen that I had a real problem, but I never tried to quit. I mean, who would you know. As long as things were going well, you certainly didn't want to quit. He also had a life in Colorado that was quite adventurous. You. I mean, you got married young, you had a child young, but you cooked at a sort of national park. You always seemed to be climbing mountains and doing crazy things. You had the life that Bob Dylan and a lot of the other people in the village pretended to have. They all pretended to be these rough characters who've been riding the rails and cooking at lumber camps. And you're like, no, no, no, I did that. You didn't do anything. Yeah, I did that. I had started singing for money in March of nineteen fifty nine. I sang at a little club called Michael's Pub Boulder, and then I sang in the mountains in Central City, and then I was hired to sing in Denver and I started traveling back and forth from Boulder, which is where we lived and my husband was in school, to Boulder Boulder Denver Turnpike, dangerous road in those days. We got two offers. I got an offer of six weeks at the Gate of Horn to open four at that point it was Will Holt and my husband and I got an offer to because a lot of our friends were park rangers. We knew the Long's Peak ranger whom we'd met in the mountains in fifty eight, and we'd run the lodge and I cooked on with stoves, and we'd served the lunches to the hikers, and we got to know a whole community of people. I was traveling back and forth, of course, to sing, and we were offered a firewatch. Meantime, I had broken my leg and had a urgery and was in a cast from my toes to my hip. This was in the spring of sixty. They offered us the job, and we went up to Genesee Park it's called. So we went up there for lunch one day and our little boy was about a year and a half old, I think, and we had lunch and we talked about it. What are we going to do. Are we going to move to Chicago so you can do the get of Horn or are we going to take the risk of your being in this cast and take a firewatch at Twin Sisters. Well, I was the breadwinner, so to speak, and I was not going to be very helpful if I could not move, if there was a fire, and I couldn't get on a horse and I couldn't walk in this cast. That's when we decided to go to Chicago. And that was really that moment in my life where I knew that I was not going to live in Colorado and be part of the mountain scene for my adult life, but that is going to go on this and do this career and do this thing that I do. When did you tell your husband that the cast was fake? After I knocked him down the hill? Yeah? What was it like for you when you started writing? The world changed and the sort of curators like Joan Bayes that went out of fashion, and so I think you singer songwriters, did you feel pressure that you had to write to maintain your career? No, no, no, no, I didn't. I mean my career was finding other people's songs and doing them the way I wanted to, and my writing is completely part of my psyche, and no, it was keeping me on the planet is why I write. And ever since I wrote, since you've asked, I've never stopped writing songs. And what was since you've asked about? Well, the title, since you've asked, you know, Al Cooper said to me, why are you not writing songs? And then the answers since you've asked, I'll show you. So what was it like when you you performed all these incredible songs you'd been on stage and then suddenly you're sitting down saying, well can I do this? Did you write it a piano? Yeah? I write everything at the piano, and that's where I grew up, at the piano, so it was a natural thing. It was always there. The whole question of noodling and finding a melody and a lyric did not occur to me until that moment. And I wrote a bunch of songs that were pretty interesting at that beginning. Since you've asked, and my father I wrote that I wrote Albatross in that first I wrote a song called Jay about che Guevera. I wrote quite a number of songs, including eventually, while I took a few months off a couple of years later than didn't tour, so I could just write songs, and that was where I wrote Secret Gardens and a couple of others. But I always have something I come up with, something that I need to put on a record. So usually one of my songs will show up in a collection of other things, except of course, if I'm doing its on time album, yes, or an album of Lennon McCartney, which I've done, an album of Bob Dylan, which I've done. Of those three, the Sondheim, the Lennon McCartney and the Dylan. Doing so many of those songs which surprised you the most when you did it, or what had the most surprises for you when you actually sat down to arrange the songs and to sing them. Well, I knew the Dylan songs very well, and I knew the Beatles songs very well. But I also by the time I recorded the song Time, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, and I'd been working on it since. Probably did it in twenty sixteen, so it was fifteen years later. But I had really absorbed that group of songs that I loved and that I had to sing, and I had to sing them with an orchestra, and they were the most challenging. These are works which have great depths and great demands to make on the voice as well as on the heart. Jimmy Webb says to me, you know, you always record the most difficult of my songs. One of which I have struggled with, but I finally think I can sing it is his song about Gogan, which is one of those mountain climes of a song. But it prepared me actually learning Gogan and singing it in concerts and kind of absorbing it and then recording I think prepared me to do this on time album and it is really satisfying and really exciting material and really brings you up to the point where you have to say, wow, I don't know how I did that. What is it that's challenging about his songs? Is it the leaps? Is it the rhythm? Is there just something about singing them that makes them difficult? They're often some other realm that is not customary in songs from the Great American Songbook, most of which have been taken out of Broadway shows. You don't sing along with son TEI when you walk out of the theater. Pretty much you are given an architecture that is unusual, surprising, very moving, intellectually challenging, and at the same time melodic. He holds the papers he has signed off on, something that other people cannot really copy. I don't think. Do you think you have a talent from making them accessible to your audience? I hope so, and that's really the point. I do think that my ability to clarify and to articulate, to be clear, and to phrase, and that's what you have to do with those songs. You must phrase them so that they are understandable to the listener, and that you use that melody to carry you through to your audience so that they get it and that they are as excited about the song when it comes to an end is you are. I'm wondering if some of that for you comes from your early career. But it was very much traditional folk music, Irish appelation. Yes, that was really the stuff you learned and the stuff you first recorded. Absolutely, but when you perform it it doesn't sound old timey or nostalgic. You make them feel very contemporary. Yes, A song of yours that I love and seems almost like a folk song at times. Is my father? Can you tell me about writing that? It was in April that I wrote of nineteen sixty eight, and he died in May. It was just an easy access. It came very easily. You know. They don't all come so easily, and that's how they get you, though. It took me about forty minutes to write, since you've asked, and the same thing was true as my father. But then in between you have these months and months of struggling with a song. But they hook you by getting you to be able to write my father, And since you've asked, I knew he was sick. In nineteen sixty seven, at Christmas, I had been for the first time. I'd been making some money, and so I gave my parents a trip to Hawaii is a present, and when they got there, he got sick, and he got sick there in the hospital, and then he came back, and for months they didn't know what was the matter with him. But I knew he was in the hospital, and so the song came very easily to me, But he never heard it, which is the sad part of it. I called an old friend, Tom Glazer, and I sang it to Tom on the phone. I would have done that was my father, I'm sure, but it's not something that probably a person who's on his way to dying would want to hear necessarily because the opening of the song it describes your father promising you that you would live in France. Yeah, is that something your father actually did? Well? It was in sixty eight. It was that summer I met Stephen four days after my father's death, and I was writing the song and the first line was my father always promised us that we would live in Spain. I couldn't rhyme it with rain or pain, so I had to change. My fair Lady killed that one for exactly. Yeah, we'll be right back after a quick break with more from Judy Collins. We're back with more from Bruce Headlam and Judy Collins. Can you take me back to sixty four where you were and how the first town Hall concert came about? Because it became a famous album of yours. It did become a famous album, and I signed my contract with Elector in nineteen sixty one on a handshake with Jack Holsman, and he became my champion. And I had opened for theod Quell at Carnegie Hall. So I had sort of broken into the big stages in New York. But now I had a full tell solo concert at town Hall, and that was after my first three albums, and so Jack said, well, let's we got to record this. That was a big deal in those days because there was a big truck outside and a lot of people with a lot of reel to reel tapes going on. I'd found Phil Oakes's song in the Heat of the Summer, and a couple of Dylan songs, primarily the Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll, which I had heard him sing actually on the town Hall stage in nineteen sixty two, and Billy Head Wheeler song, one of which Cold Too I have sung consistently from then on. It's the best song about people who've been in a job that doesn't exist anymore that I know, So it was really interesting to go back and do that. We did this album in a virtual environment, so there was nobody in town Hall when we recorded it in January, and I didn't actually know they were going to put it on a vinyl and a CD, but they did, which is good. It's good for me. It's good for my fans. If it hadn't been for the pandemic, would you have had a crowd there or not? Oh yeah, oh yes, we should mention that was your album of twenty nineteen, which became your first number one album on the Billboard. Yeah, and you were I think eighty when that happened. That's pretty good. I got a call from Billboard and they said, oh, you've got your number one lifetime and you're in the bluegrass category. And I said, that's fine. I'm very happy to know. But remember I've had all those other numbers to the year. Don't forget about those. Your performances in that are I mean, it's beautiful, but particularly this on time because the album finishes with it, and so it finishes with the line maybe next year. Yeah, yeah, and knowing it was done in the middle of the pandemic, it's very moving. Yeah, it is. When I was listening to the album and I'm listening to you sing both sides now, which is not the easiest song to sing in the world. You sing it in the same key. I know. I always sing it in the same key. A lot of the songs on that album. On the nineteen sixty four are very high and I could sing them no problem. Okay, Well, then we need to know your secret, because how can you sing songs like and Winter Sky and Ramblin Boy and all these other great songs? You sing in the same key which a lot of performers over the years have to lower it. So what do you do with your voice that allows you to do that? Well, today I sat down and practice the piano and sang did some exercises that I was taught by my teacher. And if there is a secret, it is what Max Margali's taught me, which is that everything is about clarity and phrasing. If you listen to a singer and you understand the words, it goes a long way to proving that they're singing well. If you don't, maybe not so much. And my whole purpose in life is to tell the stories so that they can be understood. I know some people who have let's say, rugged voices. They're charming, but the real challenge is to keep telling the stories and telling them understandably. You mentioned Max Margolis, he was there vocal coach. Yes, when did you start with him? I started with him in nineteen sixty five. You know, as a pianist trained pianist, I sang in the choirs and the choruses. But when I got stretched out on the road after sixty one, when I began to make records and have to travel all over the world, I would lose my voice all the time. And so by nineteen sixty five it was clear that I had to do something about it. And I didn't know anybody in New York who would do that. I mean my friends who were the folk music community. Nobody was taking singing lessons, that's for sure. So I called Harry Belafonde and his somebody who worked with him, and said, oh, Harry says, you have to talk to his guitarist, Ray Boguslav, and you have to call Ray because Ray knows about these things. So I called Ray Boguslav and he said, well, there's only one person that would be worthwhile to work with, and his name is Max Margolis. So I wrote his phone number down. And so at the end of the summer, I was in my apartment on the Upper West Side, and I picked up the piece of paper with the phone number on it, which I had kept, and I called this number and this man answered, and I said, who I was, and I told him who had recommended him. And we talked for a little bit and I said, I'd really like to come and see you and see if you can help me out with this problem. And he said what do you do? And I told him and he said, ah, I'm not interested. You people are not serious. And I said, oh, trust me, I'm serious. And I begged and pleaded, and finally he said all right. He said we'll spend a little time together. You can come and see me. And I said, well, that's wonderful. But where do you live? And he told me, and I walked out my front door on the eighth floor of one sixty four West seventy ninths and I turned right and walked past the elevator and rang his bell. He didn't expect you quite so soon. Now, that's how right on these two folks were. That I obviously it was Karmick, and it was met and then I studied with him for thirty two years until he died. And the last thing he said to me at Roosevelt Hospital when he was dying was don't worry. As long as you know that it's clarity and phrasing, you're going to be fine. How do you practice clarity and phrasing? Well, you think about clarity about the words. You know, my husband will say to me, you've got to be clearer on that song. You know it's a new song and you're not finding your way into it. It's not understandable to me. So that'll do it, you know every time. We'll be right back with more from Judy Collins. After a quick break, we're back with the rest of Bruce's conversation with Judy Collins. One of the things reading your autobiography that I found fascinating. You lived in the Upper West Side, but you were really part of the Greenwich village scene, and how quickly you got to know seemingly everybody. When you had trouble with your voice, you phoned Harry Bellefonte. What was it about the village at that point? I know there are a lot of talented people there, but everybody seemed to intersect so many times. Was it a small community, Was it that everybody was drinking together, or what was it that made it so connected? You know, when you think of the village, it's a very small area of physical area. It's only a few blocks. You would think of it as this huge place, and yes we drank together. It was very much a social club. But when I got to the village, it was nineteen sixty one, and there was a kind of a word of mouth around the whole country. The people around the clubs would say, to another person who ran a club in Chicago, maybe she sold tickets, and they would hire me. I was there for six weeks at a time, or sometimes a month and a half two months. In that way, the venues got to know that you were doing business, so they would hire you. And I went to New York for the first time since I was a teenager. I went to Greenwich Village and I was the opener. I was the headliner at Gurtis Folk City in April of nineteen sixty one. Dylan had been when he was called roberts Eyman. He had been in Denver and he was hanging out there. He was homeless there. He was sleeping on the couches of people who sang at the Exodus, which is a club that I sang. I opened for Bob Gibson, who discovered Joan Bias, and then he called Jack Holsman and said, I think I've found your Joan Bias. It was a very tiny community, although we were stretched out very sin all over the country. But that's really the way it was. The night that I opened as the headliner at Gertie's Folks, that everybody was there that I had ever seen in the record stores, and Pete Seeger was there, and Peter Paulumer was there, and Dave ren Ronk was there. In Ramblin, Jack Elliott was there because my opener was a thirteen year old named Arlo Guthrie. So they had come to see what Woody's kid was going to do. And I've known Arlo for sixty years. I was fascinated that this sort of dominant, slightly fearsome character for you when you went there was Joan Bias. Wasn't Dylan. He was still a kid. Joan was the one that everybody kind of gravitated to, and she seemed to be the charismatic one. Oh and she became a friend very early on and her sister. I was embedded with this group of people, including people like Phil Oaks, who one day he knew that I was recording in the heat of the summer was a wonderful song by him, and so he knew I was going to be recording that month in sixty four, and so he brought Eric Anderson over. I didn't know Eric at all, So he brought him over, and Eric brushed me aside, raced to the bedroom, sat down, finished writing the words to the song, and then came back and sang me Thirsty Boots and I said, oh, that's great, I'll record that tomorrow too. So things like that were always happening. It just they seemed to happen so rapidly. That's right. Odetta's husband was my manager for a while. I don't know if you know that. I didn't know that, but you guys played a very particular role which you don't find in pop music anymore. Before you started writing, you were almost like the curators of what was happening. You know. You sang Dylan songs before Dylan was popular, and he wouldn't have had a career without John Byas and Odetta sang everybody's songs. Yeah, you became this interpreter of these songwriters people hadn't really heard of. I want to just talk about a few of them because the list is so impressive. How did you first meet Ian and Sylvia? Well, they were recording for Electra, and they were charming. They had a place in the village, and you know, Electra was a family and Jack Holton and his wife Nina used to do these big parties when you had a concert somewhere and we'd meet everybody. Or I'd go to hear Ian and Sylvia sang somewhere at some club. Or I'd go hang out at the gaslight and listen to Dave van Rogue and there would be Phil Oaks singing and Peter Lafar. There was always something going on. I listened to the songs and I would pluck out the ones that I knew would work for me. And I went to see Dylan and it must have been sixty two. It was very early on. It was town Hall and he sang Masters of War and I just flipped out, and also fairthe Well, and I said, I have to record this guy. So then I came back to the East and moved straight into the village just where I knew I had to be, and I just had to be there in a way. Everybody found a way to get into that recording studio with Elector and make a record. Sometimes they didn't stay all that long. I did, But I did get to know people because of that, because that social life that kind of swirled around Nina and Jack Holsman. And how did you meet Leonard Cohen? You may be the only person not to have had an affair with Leonard Cohen. Yes, I'm the only person who didn't. Yes, the only girl in the room left inning. I had a couple of friends. Lily Tomlin and Jane Wagner were friends of mine in those old days in the village. And I had a friend named Linda Gottlieban. She and I and Mary Martin would have dinner, The four or five of us would have dinner. Mary Martin worked for Warner Brothers and she was a Canadian and we would go out to dinner and she would talk about her life in Canada, and she would talk about this guy named Leonard and she would say, Leonard's a wonderful poet, and we all love him. We all grew up in the same neighborhood. That's also where Nancy Bacall came into my life too, a little after that, and she said, we're also worried about him because he's a brilliant person. He gets some books published and we go to his little readings in Montreal. But we don't understand these poems that all, they're so obscure. So this went on for a couple of years, in and out of various spots where we'd have dinner or lunch or whatever. Then in sixty six she called me one day and she said, well, you will be surprised, but he's writing songs and he wants to come to see you to record his songs. Now, by that time, of course, I had had the hand in a number of careers, many many artists. I suppose it was known that if you could get me on a record on electro, because I was recording every year, it would be a good thing for your career. I said to Leonard, you know, Mary told me that you write songs, and I'd love to hear some, if that's okay with you. He said, okay, i'll come by the next day. So the next day he came by the apartment and he said, I can't sing and I can't play the guitar, and I don't know if this is a song. And he sang me three songs. He sang me the Stranger Song, which I've never recorded yet, but I will someday, and he sang me dress Rehearsal RAG, which is the story of a rehearsal for a suicide, which I thought was great, and then he sang me Suzanne. Now Michael got it right away with Susannie said, oh, that's it, and I said, I'm not so sure. So it wasn't until a day or two later that it sunk in. That was when I called Jack. We had been working on In My Life, which was my fifth album, fifth or sixth, and it was a huge departure from everything I'd ever done because now there were no guitars, there was no Dylan, there was no phil Oaks. It was songs from the Marsade, songs from the Pirate Jenny. It was a huge departure, and in my life a Beatles song. We should just back up. This was a famous theater production Peter Brooks and the story of the Marquis de Sade, a fantastic production, and the music was not distinctly song. So I took the whole soundtrack and I had them put it on a reel to reel for me, and then I edited it with my own razor to put the thing to together so that it it would make a complete kind of text as a song. And then we said, let's get Josh to do this. Let's get Josh Rudkin to orchestrate these things, Pirate Jenny, the music of the mar It Saw in My Life, etc. And so we'd done all this material. We went to England actually to record so we could get the folks who sang for the mar Itsad recordings. And we were out there, you know, we were having a very good time. Nobody knew what we were doing and nobody understood why we were doing what we were doing, and so we were very happy with it. But Jack said to me, it's missing something. And that was when Leonard came along. I called Jack a couple of days later and I said, I think I found them missing something. I had Leonard play Suzanne for him and he said, Ah, that's it, that we're done. It's amazing to me at that point that you'd had five or six records by that before you did In My Life, and they had done okay, but you didn't have a breakout hit on Eddie of them. You were touring a lot. A musician today would not get six kicks at the can with they didn't have Jack Holsman on their side. Do you think that was it? Oh? Yeah. He was a believer, you know. He said to me when Bob Gibson had called him from Denver and said, I have found your Joan Baias. That was in fifty nine and Bob said, I think you have to come out here to Denver and hear her. And he did, but he didn't introduce himself to me. And two years later he came to see me at Gertie's Folk City and said, you're ready to make a record. And years later he said I didn't know that he had come out to Denver, And then he called after Sammis had Gertie's, he called Bob Gibson and said, I have now found my Judy Collins. And he told me this maybe five years ago. I heard the story from him. He saves these little nuggets for me, tells me decades later. I was saying, he hung onto that one for a long time. I had no idea. I said, why didn't you introduce yourself? He said, because I heard you and I thought she's very good. But then he thought I did not know if you were serious, And I said, well, you could have asked me. I was always very serious and he said, well, I didn't know that, but you see, he had a heart, also has integrity, and he knows that it takes time to build an artist. I would do want to ask about two more songwriters you champion very early, Randy Newman, How did that song come to your time? Somebody sent me somebody from his camp sent me that song when I was on the verge of recording in My Life album. He had recorded it and I heard it and I said, I'm putting this on the album. That's what made the decision in his mind that he was going to be a songwriter and not go the route of most of his relatives who wrote music for movies. As you know. That was what did it. That I chose the song and I sang it, and of course it's a great and the song is great. Yeah, rain today. I think it's going to rain to the pin today. Just an amazing song. But I didn't know him. Somebody brought the song to my producer, to Mark Abramson, and kind of threw it on his desk. And how did you first hear? Joni Mitchell. Another one of those miraculous moments. I was in the village I was hanging out recording, traveling, and I became friendly with al Cooper, who started blood, sweat and tears. Then sixty seven. I was passed out, I'm sure one night and it was about three in the morning, and I got this call from al Cooper and I said, why are you calling me? What is going on? Is something wrong? And he said, no, no, no, no no. I followed this girl home and she was good looking, and she said she was a songwriter, and so I figured I couldn't lose, so I followed her home and when she got there, she started singing these songs and I said, to her, hold everything, I have to call Judy. So he called me and I said, why are you calling me in the middle of the night, And then he said, I have a surprise for you. She does write songs and you are going to love them. And then he put her on the phone and she sang me both sides Now she sang that on the phone. Yeah, did she play guitar? When she was playing the guitar and singing into the phone with al Cooper sitting next to her, and you thought what I thought, Oh my god, I'll be right over and I took Jack with me the next day and I said, this is it, and he said, you're right, and that was it. I did Michael from Mountains to which I don't sing in concerts, but it is a great song. And then you later did a couple other big songs of hers. I did Chelsea Morning, Chelsea Morning. It was a hit for you, and then President Clinton and his wife said they named Chelsea Morning after listening to my version of the song. But that's a big song that I do. I love that that song a lot. Did you maintain a relationship with her over the year. Not really. You know, we've grown apart, and we also live in different parts of the country and she doesn't travel so much. I mean, she has had her physical issues, but we have had some very nice times. Clive Davis got together a couple of years ago. She was still in a wheelchair, but she came to the Grammy party that he has before the Grammys and I sang both sides now with a wonderful band for her, and so that was very special. Okay, Well, I'm so happy you could fit us in. Oh you maybe the busiest person I know. What a treat for me. I've loved every second of it. Thank you so much for coming down. Thanks that Judy Collins for taking a roll down memory Lane with Bruce. You can check out a playlist of all of our favorite Judy Collins songs and songs inspired by Judy Collums at broken Record podcast dot com. Be sure to subscribe to our YouTube channel at YouTube dot com slash Broken Record Podcast, where we can find all of our new episodes. You can follow us on Twitter at broken Record. Broken Record is produced at help from Lea Rose, Jason Gambrel, Bentaladay, Eric Sandler, and Jennifer Sanchez, with engineering help from Nick Chafee. Our executive producer is Mia LaBelle. Broken Record is a production of Pushkin Industries. If you like this show and others from Pushkin, consider subscribing to Pushkin Plus. Pushkin Plus is a podcast subscription that offers bonus content an uninterrupted ad free listening for four ninety nine a month. Look for Pushkin Plus on Apple Podcasts subscriptions, and if you like the show, please remember to share, rate, and review us on your podcast app. For the music Spychannic Beats, I'm justin Richmond four

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