Joni Mitchell, a name synonymous with vocal brilliance, intricate musical arrangements, and songwriting that plucks at your heartstrings, remains a towering figure in music. Her profound impact on folk and beyond is undeniable, captivating listeners for decades with her raw emotionality and lyrical genius. For those in tune with music news or the folk scene, her recent surprise appearance at the Newport Folk Festival was a significant moment, prompting a welcome resurgence of interest in her extensive and influential catalog. Among her masterpieces, “Big Yellow Taxi” (1970), stands out, particularly relevant when considering themes of land and our relationship with the environment – a core mission for organizations like Agrarian Trust.
If the title doesn’t immediately ring a bell, think of the iconic lines about paradise, paving, and parking lots. Take a listen to these unforgettable words:
Don’t it always seem to go
That you don’t know what you’ve got
Till it’s gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
Oooh, ba ba ba, and so on.
Through these simple yet powerful verses, the “Yellow Taxi Song,” as it’s often remembered, delivers a potent critique of consumerism, our growing detachment from the natural world, and the detrimental impact of pollutants like DDT. Mitchell’s message is a call to action: to reconsider our values and how they manifest in our treatment of the land, before more of paradise is lost. It’s a message that continues to resonate deeply today.
Mitchell’s inspiration for this timeless “yellow taxi song” struck during a trip to Hawaii. In a 2019 interview with Mojo Magazine, she recounted, “I took a taxi to the hotel and when I woke up the next morning, I threw back the curtains and saw these beautiful green mountains in the distance. Then, I looked down and there was a parking lot as far as the eye could see, and it broke my heart—this blight on paradise. That’s when I sat down and wrote the song.” This experience, a stark juxtaposition of natural beauty and human development, is something many can relate to, regardless of whether they’ve visited Hawaii. The enduring strength of the “yellow taxi song” lies in its ability to tap into this shared sense of environmental loss.
In the 35 years before Big Yellow Taxi was released, the United States lost over five million farms, or more than half of the farms that existed in 1935.
There’s a profound unease in witnessing the natural world, with its intricate beauty and complexity, reduced to a mere resource for human exploitation. The “parking lot” in the “yellow taxi song” serves as a powerful metaphor for this reduction. It could represent anything from a manicured lawn to a monoculture crop field or a sprawling golf course. “Paradise,” conversely, could be a wildflower meadow, a thriving biodiverse farm, or an ancient forest. Looking at the landscapes we’ve created, the question inevitably arises: what have we sacrificed?
One increasingly rare sight in the modern world is the small, biodiverse farm. In the 35 years leading up to the release of “Big Yellow Taxi,” the United States witnessed the disappearance of over five million farms, more than half of those existing in 1935. While the history of the United States is far from a paradise for everyone, particularly considering the dispossession of Native American lands, this agricultural loss has had devastating consequences for rural communities. The decline of small farms has coincided with the rise of industrial farming, prioritizing monoculture over diversity, yield over soil health, and profit over community well-being.
Today, the crisis extends beyond farm loss to farmland loss itself. A policy report from the National Young Farmers Coalition reveals that since 1982, development has consumed farmland across the nation, with 25 million acres permanently converted – an area comparable to the state of Indiana. This trend persists at an alarming rate of over 2,000 acres lost daily. The American Farmland Trust estimates that if current development patterns continue, an additional 18.4 million acres will vanish between 2016 and 2040.
If we want to preserve farmland for future generations, we need to recognize what we have and do everything we can to sustain it while it’s here.
Development isn’t inherently negative. Constructing a necessary grocery store might sometimes outweigh preserving a particular piece of farmland. However, development devoid of consideration for regional ecology, food systems, and community welfare is a far more dangerous prospect. The disappearance of farmland, for instance, has inflated land prices, making it increasingly difficult for new farmers to acquire land and contribute to sustainable food systems.
Mitchell’s poignant question in the “yellow taxi song”— “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone?”— serves as a vital reminder. Hopefully, the answer is no. To safeguard farmland for future generations, we must recognize its value and actively work to preserve it. Initiatives like the Agrarian Commons offer a promising path forward. By empowering communities to acquire land, ensure its responsible long-term stewardship, and manage it collectively, the Agrarian Commons facilitates conscious decisions about land use. With sufficient support, it can model a new land ethic, prioritizing collective decision-making, environmental health, and social justice over unchecked, profit-driven development. It’s time to put away the metaphorical (and literal) DDT, embrace imperfections, and protect the vital ecosystems around us.
