Baez is more of a folk pioneer than anybody else. You can imagine folk as something that bleeds into the souls of all of us, like a voice we all share, experiences that come and go like an easy catch-up in a pub. We can imagine folk as stories, characters, and narratives, the kind that don’t matter if they’re entirely made up, so long as they make us feel something. Suppose that’s precisely what Baez does, but with something that goes even further than that, becoming everything around while also showing us the way.

To ignore the ghosts until they go away. But what happens when these memories are held up to the light and examined? What happens when we grit our teeth and sit with feelings that have so long been ignored? Often, art is born when pain is allowed to radiate through us until it crystallizes into beauty. Joan Baez’s beautiful, haunting song “Diamonds and Rust” is just that — a gemstone forged by love lost and pain reignited. Before we dive into what makes this song special, let’s take a closer look at the impressive woman behind it.

When the Beatles arrived in the States for a second time, they stopped off for a couple of nights on their tour in Colorado towards the end of their scheduled run, and on the second night, they were blessed to have folk royalty in their midst in the form of Joan Baez.

Baez was already writing “Diamonds and Rust” when she received a phone call from Dylan. He called from a phone booth in the Midwest and read the lyrics to his song “Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts.” Her song wasn’t about him initially. But she was writing about him now.