Tony Rice's Voice - a Lost Treasure

I love Tony Rice's musicality. His guitar playing is sublime--superior--soaring above whatever song he plays and whomever joins him. Tonight I salute and sincerely regret the loss of his singing, even while his guitar picking remains. Tony, 61, suffers from dysphonia, and hasn't been able to sing since the early 1990s.

I first became aware of Tony's genius when he was playing "Dawg Music" as part of the David Grisman Quintet. He left in 1979, but he stayed active, and released albums as the Tony Rice Unit. This was instrumental, in the style of Grisman.

These days, I listen over and over to his incredible album, Tony Rice Sings Gordon Lightfoot. I savor Lightfoot anyway--having virtually every bit of his work (minus one tough-to-get concert album--probably available in vinyl only). This album is the aural equivalent of a massage. I put it on and lay back and enjoy--and often fall asleep. It got so I had to put the CD on in the middle so I'd get to hear the later tracks at all. This is no fault of Tony--the songs are good rousing bluegrass--but the musicality of everyone is so profoundly affecting that I simply relax. One especially stressful evening when I couldn't sleep I went out to the living room and put it on to try to get some sleep. It worked.

I have a CD called Quartet, by Peter Rowan and Tony Rice from five years ago. It features Tony with bluegrass legend Rowan and two fantastic female musicians/vocalists playing mandolin and bass. The ladies also sing the harmonies, because Tony can no longer do it.

I'll continue buying Tony's music, one album at a time, on iTunes. The Lightfoot tunes are spread across several, but he also has recorded many great bluegrass and folk classics. After listening to my collection as I washed the mountain of Thanksgiving dinner dishes, I just ordered up another album, Cold on the Shoulder. That's a Lightfoot, song, yes. So now I have two copies of Tony's rendition.

But, someday, I'll have all the Tony Rice singing there is, and there won't be any more. That's very sad.

James Taylor Eternal

I happened to hear "Blossom," a very early James Taylor song, on my "Song for a Winter's Night" channel on Pandora the other day. Ah, the Sweet Baby James album--what a breakthrough for young singer/songwriter James Taylor. It was 1970.

James Taylor, like so many creative types, has had his ups and downs with drugs and lifestyle issues, but somehow he comes out sounding wonderful. Another highlight in his long career is his comeback album, Hourglass, in 1997, on which his beautiful, straightforward singing sounds undiminished--even enhanced--after 27 years.

Taylor has recently released two albums of covers and he still sounds great. I regret that his record company (or perhaps he) feels required to Photoshop the heck out of his images, though. It's fine to wear a hat when you're bald (and Taylor lost his hair pretty early), but a guy his age (63) has a wrinkle or two.

Interesting to contrast James Taylor's voice, which has retained its quality through his tortured artist life, to Gordon Lightfoot's. Lightfoot sounded great in 1970, too, with "If You Could Read My Mind," but in 1998, about the same time as Taylor's Hourglass, his delivery had changed tremendously--as on A Painter Passing Through. Still a great performer, though, and he is 10 years older than JT.

Birthdays

Yesterday, my fellow employees gathered around a couple of tables filled with cakes, pies and fruit and sang "Happy Birthday" to several colleagues who happened to share November birthdays. They blew out the candles together and the feasting began. Then, we went back to work. We do this every month.

How many million times a day does this ritual play out in homes and offices around the country--or the world? Celebrating birthdays is everywhere--or at least it's all over the U.S., where I live.

Also at work this week, we celebrated a birth, when an employee delivered her first child on 11/11/11--at just a few minutes before 11:11! Two photos of the beautiful boy circulated through our emailboxes.

Today is the birthday of Gordon Lightfoot, one of my favorite singer/songwriter/musicians. I spent an evening with him last week. Here's a case of celebrating the achievement of years. The man is still with us at 73, and although he doesn't sound the same, he is our treasured artist and we celebrate him every time "If You Could Read My Mind" comes on the iPod. There wasn't an empty seat at his concert last week.

The Beatles sang "You say it's your birthday..." on the White Album, and that song gets played a lot, although it is not as ubiquitous as the aforementioned little tune. There are lots of other birthday songs out there.

My wife, stepmom and older son all have birthdays in the next few weeks. That makes the Thanksgiving time especially meaningful. Also, a friend and former boss's birthday is November 27. Jeffrey Thomas, born just 10 days after Gordon Lightfoot in 1938, passed away at only 68. I used to call him on his birthday every year. I miss that--and him.

My most important birthday, I think, so far, was my 50th. That's when I began to take music seriously and got my first bass. I'm hoping -- even planning -- to have many many more.

Slow Internet Drives Me Nuts

We have certain expectations these 21st-century days of 2011. One of them is instant access to information, and if the Internet drags, for whatever reason, it seems somehow patently unfair.

I remember back when there was no online connection for most of us and we got along fine. We visited libraries, patronized bookstores, and even sent letters. We picked up the phone or went to visit people. But now, if I can't read my emails immediately, it seems somehow like the worst torture devised in the history of the world (see cartoon).

I don't think it's just me, but it feels like being stuck in traffic when you've got to be at an appointment. And that may be the same problem--too many people on the same road. I'm also becoming more and more convinced that AT&T U-Verse is not the best way to access the Internet.

Update: This couldn't be posted at 7 a.m. today because of ... a slow Internet connection. On the drive to work, I heard Gordon Lightfoot's song, Too Late for Praying, and realized that if a slow Internet connection is my worst problem today, I'm one of the luckiest people on earth.

Gordon Lightfoot Concert - Generating Energy

Last night I went to see Gordon Lightfoot perform in Cupertino, California. In his two-hour show, I enjoyed impeccable musical accompanyment by his tight band, most of whose members have toured and recorded with Gordon for decades (42 years for bassist Rick Haynes).

Gordon traversed his career in no particular order, playing some fairly obscure album cuts as well as some major hits, but his fans, who filled every seat of the Flint Center, surely knew them all and sometimes applauded when a special favorite began. I was gratified when he played Song for a Winter's Night--probably my favorite Lightfoot song of all.

The most interesting thing, however, was the transformation that we witnessed in Lightfoot himself over the course of the evening. When he strolled out, he moved well, but his voice, which is not the rich baritone it used to be, was soft and scratchy, and he seemed to have trouble reaching some of the higher notes. Although I sat absorbed, enjoying the arrival of each new song, there was a little sadness in sensing that this man, who turns 73 on November 17, is in his twilight.

Well, so much for that. After a fairly short break, he and the band came back and knocked out a fine Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald and it was uphill from there. The gaunt-looking man on stage started to seem younger with time, smiled more, talked more, and he started hitting those notes he couldn't reach before. And that's why, I think, he still tours. He gains energy from his adoring fans and from playing with his band. You could see it happen right before you. As I watched him I could see the younger Gordon come out and suddenly his vocal limitations disappeared and all we heard were his great songs.

There's a movement in Canada to create a Gordon Lightfoot Day for this living musical legend. Yesterday was that day for me and the crowd with whom he shared an evening.

Gordon Lightfoot Day

I read yesterday about a movement in Canada to have an official Gordon Lightfoot Day. Dave Bidini, a Canadian musician, author, journalist, music aficionado and hockey fanatic, has posted an online petition you can even sign to propose it to the Canadian government. I'm not sure that American signatures will count (officially) but I did it anyway.

Having a Gordon Lightfoot Day makes a lot of sense to me, even as an American. Gordon, while not a number-one-on-the-survey hit generator for decades, has been a continuing--and touring--musician who embodies folk music in Canada.

His "If You Could Read My Mind" was the first big hit in America, and there were others, notably "Sundown" and "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald." Since then--lots of albums (fewer in the 20th century)--but a continuing presence on the airwaves and in intimate convert venues.

I've been a fan since 1975, accumulating stacks of vinyl LPs, which are now replaced by CDs--which are then loaded into my iPod. I don't carry the complete works in my iPod, but I have all four of the first 1960's albums, when he was at his folkiest and Don Quixote, when he was in his prime.

One song that had a huge impact on Canadians was "Canadian Railroad Trilogy," which was a song of national celebration that came out in 1967--when Canada was celebrating its centennial. That in itself has put Lightfoot in a special place with Canadians. And--he was a native son, on the radio, someone who wasn't American or British.

Bidini has a book on Lightfoot coming out in October. Looking forward to reading that--and to hearing Gordon Lightfoot on my iPod periodically, too. And--maybe Gordon Lightfoot Day someday.

See my blog post of January 27th.

Gordon Lightfoot Lives On

I have loved Canadian folksinger Gordon Lightfoot's music since 1975, when my first wife bought me his Summertime Dream album. It contained a song I liked, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, a lengthy maritime ballad of the loss of an iron freighter in a storm in Lake Superior. I later collected every LP I could find, and then CDs. Today, I listen to him on my iPod.

Lightfoot is a survivor. He drank in earlier years, but cleaned up and became quite healthy later. Good thing--it helped him live through an abdominal aortic aneurism that nearly killed him a number of years ago. His voice has faded considerably in recent years, but the man still puts on a great concert, and is still touring at 72. Live, he shows his warmth and humor--something his serious album cover portraits never brought out.

A big favorite is Song for a Winter's Night, recently covered by Sarah McLachlan.

In a book by Bob Mercereau, The Top 100 Canadian Singles. Lightfoot placed three songs in the top 20: If You Could Read My Mind at #7, The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald at #15, and Sundown at #19.