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The golden period
I planned to read the 2017 authorized biography of Gordon Lightfoot just as soon as I could lay my hands on a copy. So when I stumbled across Lightfoot, by Nicholas Jennings, on the library shelf the other day, I grabbed it and devoured it in one sitting.
Lightfoot, as non-fans are no doubt tired of hearing, is revered because he came up with so many memorable songs in such a brief period of time Between 1966 and 1978 (from when I was 13 until I turned 25—my prime impressionable music years) he put out an incredible 13 L.P. records—a golden period. I stopped following him in 1978, but I still listen, avidly, to that golden period music, with a better appreciation of the beauty of his lyrics.
Lightfoot would go on to release more albums and he still performs—at the age of 80. There are some people, such as my friend Ken Hudson, who follow Lightfoot’s post-1978 musical career and maintain his output has been just as good despite a weakened voice and dimished prodigiousness.
So what does the biography add? It describes Lightfoot’s various romances, hard drinking and poor parenting, which seems to be par for the lifestyle course. More interestingly, it shows him as an ambitious man, a perfectionist and neat freak; a disciplined songwriter, loyal to his friends but with a strangely unappealing stage persona. It describes a child singer pushed willingly into the limelight by his mother, and a teenaged singer who then pushed himself to success.
And here’s a bit of trivia. Who wrote the song Remember me, I’m the one? If you answered Stuart Hamblen in 1950, you would be wrong.The correct answer is Gordon Lightfoot. Hamblen’s song is titled (Remember me), I’m the one who loves you. Lightfoot’s 1962 song has the shorter title. It’s available on YouTube (the video shows barn dancing first; Lightfoot comes on half way through); and it’s worth watching becuse it’s a good song and Lightfoot’s voice is outstanding. You can see why people were smitten with it and why he toyed with the idea of becoming a country singer before settling on singer/songwriter status).
Here’s some more trivia. Elvis Presley recorded Early Morning Rain. Buoyed by that, Lightoot arranged to meet Presley after an Elvis show in Buffalo. But Elvis didn’t perform the song, and when he attempted to go backstage, he was told “Elvis has left the building.” However, Lightfoot overcame the humiliation of being stood up by the King when he learned, during a visit to Graceland some years after Elvis’s death, that Elvis had planned to record his The Last Time I Saw Her. And speaking of humiliation, Frank Sinatra tried recording If You Could Read My Mind while Lightfoot was in the studio, but gave up in disgust saying “Forget it. There’s too many words.”
The book also contains a comprehensive list of Lightfoot’s recordings. So I decided to set myself a challenge: try to list my 10 favourite Lightfoot songs. Logic says that I should find this hard. And I have.
First, I excluded some classics I’ve become a bit too familiar with—such as Canadian Railroad Trilogy, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, Sundown, The Way I Feel. Pussy Willows Cat Tails, Beautiful, Cotton Jenny and Black Day in July. I know; shocking.
Then, since I could choose only 10, I relegated some to an honourable mentions category. This group includes Softly, Spanish Moss, 10 Degrees and Getting Colder, Alberta Bound, The Last Time I Saw Her. Long Way Back Home, If You Could Read My Mind, Second Cup of Coffee, Carefree Highway, Ribbon of Darkness and Walls. Sorry, boys.
And now for my top 10 list. In temporal order, it includes Early Morning Rain, Rich Man’s Spiritual and Steel Rail Blues, (all from the album Lightfoot, 1966); Song For a Winter’s Night, (from the album The Way I Feel, 1967); Did She Mention My Name, (from the album of the same name, 1968); Bitter Green, (“from the album Sunday Concert, 1969); Talking In Your Sleep, (from Summer Side of Life, 1971); Christian Island, (from Don Quixote, 1972): Rainy Day People, (from Cold on the Shoulder, 1975); and I’m Not Supposed to Care (from Summertime Dream, 1976).
Even though you may disagree with my choices, I hope you remember Lightfoot’s golden period as fondly as I do. And if you don’t, perhaps this column will help you to determine which of his songs to avoid.
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