MtH #5 Sorry? No chance.
Hi everyone
Two things to start with. You were expecting some posts about the four show swing through Ontario. Not to trivialize what we do, but there was nothing really worth reporting that would interest most of you (with a couple of exceptions, I’ll get to those). I’m not turning this into Facebook……… eg: Got up at eight, got to the plane on time, flew to Ottawa, played a typically great show, yada, blah, blah. The well oiled cogs of the Lightfoot concert machine turn flawlessly once again…………
Gag me! Let’s play Russian Roulette with all chambers full and I’ll go first.
The exceptions were my birthday in Kitchener (coincidentally, where I was born), a wonderful visit by my always cheerful and attractive
age-defying friend from Windsor (Lisa, how do you do it?), another by good friends Stephanie and Mark in Belleville (Mark has been an exceptionally good friend for close to fifty years. I say this with more than a trace of…… WTF!!!!! happened to all those years?) and a great but short visit with my awesome cousin Barbara. You might remember her as the high profile political press secretary and hair-musser I sparred with in an early post.
The other thing was something else I led you to expect. That this blog-report would arrive on time.
No humble contrition here. The Irish tend to think of apologies the same way they do about suppositories. For all the good they do you can shove ’em up yer arse.
Oh, one more thing. I guess that makes three. Sue me. The new/old song “Plans Of My Own” was debuted at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa on Saturday, the day after its international release. Check it out. Please support our industry and purchase and pay for it if you like it.
And who wouldn’t like it? The song is classic, brilliant Gord. Notice how the melody gains power with the intensity of the lyric. That’s just one of the things that sets him apart from most songwriters. I will do a musical analysis of the song, section by section if requested.
Now keep in mind, I won’t be opining on the meaning of the lyric. There’s lots of bullshitters out there that will presume to understand. Wait for them to try and stick their scat to the wall.
My sole comments on lyrics will be what a line or two is saying as it ties into the contours of melody and phrasing and imagery. I promise it won’t be scholarly.
IDEA IDEA
I just thought of something cool. Let’s do a couple of Gord tunes. I’ll let you help decide. Send me the name of a song that you would like analysed. Let’s give it a shot. I’ll shed the phony humbleness that is expected of everyone in show business just for a moment here. I am much more than competent at this kind of thing. I’ve worked and collaborated with more than a few very successful songwriters in my 43 years in the biz. I’ve got my own list of Gord Lightfoot tunes that I’d like to delve into but I’ll leave it to you to pick a couple.
This is Massey Hall Week
The coolest cheek tongue week of the year next to Christmas. It’s not every year. It used to be, but we went on an 18 month cycle so sometimes it was in the spring (traditional), and sometimes the fall. This is the first one in two years.
It wasn’t always fun for me. In the early days (1980’s) it would fill me with anxiety. Socially, I had always been inept. If there was a faux-pas to be made, I didn’t just make it. I explored the sublime depths of it. Any points I made for being bigger than life on stage for 2 hours were mindlessly splurged in 5 minutes at the reception afterwards. And while I was being dork of the year, Bev’s (Gord’s sister and manager) words at a meeting in a restaraunt bar to welcome me to the organization would echo around in my phobic brain “This band isn’t just a gig it’s also a social obligation” she said, gazing around at that day’s intoxicated contingent of band and management……….it was 1 pm……… but it took a year or two before I really understood the sarcasm.
Even at the young age of 27, I was aware that battling my awkwardness was futile. And with the liberation that comes of acceptance I began to enjoy certain aspects of the “BIG WEEK”. Something that I considered great sport was thinking up new and inventive ways to sneak out right after the encore.
More on “the hell that is my life” as the week progresses. Stay tuned.