Gordon Lightfoot, one of the greatest songwriters of all time, dies at 84
It feels like Gordon Lightfoot has always been with me.
I mean, was there ever a time when “Old Dan’s Records,” “Canadian Railroad Trilogy,” “If You Could Read My Mind,” “Sundown” and “Cotton Jenny” weren’t my companions? I’m sure there was, but it doesn’t feel that way.
His voice. Those words. My joy.
Yet, it’s hard to feel joyful as I write this — just minutes after hearing the heartbreaking news that the folk-pop troubadour died Monday (May 1) at the age of 84. His cause of death was not immediately available.
Without a doubt, Lightfoot will be remembered as one of the greatest songwriters of all time.
Sure, that’s my opinion. But it’s also one that is shared by basically the entire country of Canada, which continued to hold its native son up in oh-so-high regard long after his star began to fade on this side of the border.
Perhaps the best reflection tell of this songwriter’s worth is to look at the quality of artists who have covered his songs.
That list includes such legends as Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Hank Williams Jr., Neil Young, Barbra Streisand, Johnny Mathis, Harry Belafonte, Eric Clapton, Glen Campbell, the Grateful Dead, Nico, Olivia Newton-John, Jimmy Buffett, Jim Croce, Waylon Jennings.
It also includes newer acts like the Dandy Warhols, Diana Krall, Belinda Carlisle, Sarah McLachlan and Jane’s Addiction.
Lightfoot’s most notable fan is, of course, Bob Dylan — a guy who clearly knows a little something about writing memorable tunes. Dylan has long been a very vocal champion of Lightfoot, raking him among his all-time favorite songwriters, and saying that he learned a lot from the Canadian tunesmith.
“Lightfoot has been a mentor for a long time,” Dylan has been quoted as saying. “I think he probably still is to this day. I can’t think of any Gordon Lightfoot song I don’t like.
“Every time I hear a song of his, I wish it would last forever.”
Oh, man, I hear you, Bob. And I second that emotion.
I had hoped to see Lightfoot again earlier this year, and made plans — not once, but twice — to travel down to see him play in Southern California, which was as close as he was scheduled to get to the Bay Area on his tour. But both times, the shows were postponed.
And now we know that they won’t be happening at all.
Yet, none of this changes the feeling that Gordon Lightfoot is with me.
During his recording career — which dates back to the early 1960s and really took off with the release of the debut album “Lightfoot!” in 1965 — the incomparable artist just gave us so many reasons to remember him.
His popularity in this country peaked with the 1974 full-length “Sundown,” which was Lightfoot’s sole No. 1 album in the U.S. Yet, he’d keep right on delivering outstanding albums through the decades, with what now appears to be his final offering — “Solo” — hitting shelves in 2020.
While his once-incredibly rich and luxurious vocals changed over the years, growing more reedy though no-less-poignant with age, the one thing that never varied was his ability to write a song that felt amazingly timeless.
In particular, his ability to transport the listener to some distant place and time — whether we are talking about the doomed Great Lakes freighter in “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” or back to “when the green dark forest was too silent to be real” in “Canadian Railroad Trilogy” — is simply unparalleled.
Lightfoot’s songs evoke mystery and wonder in me, even after more listens than I can remember, as I twist and turn through the lyrics, paying equal attention to what’s said and what’s not said, in “Sundown,” “If You Could Read My Mind” and so many others.
So, yeah, he’s sticking with me. Even now that he’s gone.
I had the privilege of interviewing Lightfoot on a number of occasions, the most recent of which was 2018 to preview three concerts that he was playing in the area — at the Crest Theatre in Sacramento, the Golden State Theatre in Monterey and the Palace of Fine Arts Theatre in San Francisco.
During that interview, I brought up the utter brilliance of “If You Could Read My Mind” — a song I consider to among the greatest studio recordings ever made, on par with, say, the Beach Boys’ masterpiece “Good Vibrations.” I was nostalgic about the tune, referencing it in context to the ’70s. But to Lightfoot, the song wasn’t an artifact but rather more like a living, breathing — and evolving — creation.
“It’s much better now,” he said of the song. “You can always do it better. Every night that I do it, I can always pour a little bit more into it.”
You poured so much into your work, Mr. Lightfoot, and we were lucky to get to witness your greatness for decades.
So, consider this a heartfelt thank you. But not a goodbye, for your presence will be felt as long as there is music in my life.