R.I.P. Gordon Lightfoot
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wrote on 2 May 2023, 03:45 last edited by
The great troubador has gone clear at 84.
https://www.cbc.ca/news/entertainment/gordon-lightfoot-dead-1.6828991
Link to video -
wrote on 2 May 2023, 07:27 last edited by
Sad
. RIP. -
wrote on 2 May 2023, 11:04 last edited by Catseye3 5 Feb 2023, 11:37
Yes, very.
He made it look easy.
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wrote on 2 May 2023, 11:08 last edited by
We lost a great one.
RIP.
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wrote on 2 May 2023, 11:12 last edited by
You know, I was thinking the other day about him and a few other similar musicians of his era. The guitar work, the phrasing, but most of all the unique voices. If you heard Lightfoot, Croce, Taylor or the early Denver on the radio or someone's stereo, within the first few bars you knew exactly who was singing.
They sounded like themselves and nobody else.
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wrote on 2 May 2023, 11:29 last edited by
"Troubadour" is the perfect term for him. What a talent he was.
My favorite Lightfoot song...
Link to videoThe last time I saw her face, her eyes were bathed in starlight and her hair hung long
The last time she spoke to me, her lips were like the scented flowers inside a rain-drenched forest
But that was so long ago that I can scarcely feel the way I felt before
And if time could heal the wounds, I would tear the threads away that I might bleed some more
The last time I walked with her
Her laughter was the steeple bells
That ring to greet the morning sun
A voice that called to everyone
To love the ground we walked upon
Those were the daysThe last time I held her hand, her touch was autumn, spring and summer, and winter too
The last time I let go of her, she walked a way into the night
I lost her in the misty streets, a thousand months, a thousand years
When other lips will kiss her eyes
A million miles beyond the moon, that's where she isBut that was so long ago that I can scarcely feel the way I felt before
And if time could heal the wounds, I would tear the threads away that I might bleed some more
The last time I saw her face, her eyes were bathed in starlight and she walked aloneThe last time she kissed my cheek
Her lips were like the wilted leaves
Upon the autumn covered hills
Resting on the frozen ground
The seeds of love lie cold and still
Beneath a battered marking stone
It lies forgotten -
wrote on 2 May 2023, 11:43 last edited by
That was my thought as well. distinctive voices. There are still a few, but most are so overproduced that you're not quite sure what you are hearing.
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wrote on 2 May 2023, 11:51 last edited by
In the wake of his passing, so many sites are linking to his oeuvre, and I'm discovering all kinds of gems that are so undeniably Lightfoot that I'd never heard before.
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wrote on 2 May 2023, 13:12 last edited by
R.I.P.
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wrote on 8 May 2023, 15:39 last edited by
