Gordon Lightfoot: Summertime Dream

I'll say it up front, I'm a big fan of Gordon Lightfoot. I consider him to be one of the best folk singers of the '70s, and I wish I had more of his records. My Dad was a big Lightfoot fan as well, and I have assorted childhood memories of hearing the Gord's Gold compilation playing around the house and in the car.

But personally, I didn't get into Lightfoot's music until ca. 2004, when I heard The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald on the radio and I remembered how Dad told me the story behind this song when I was little. The mysterious, sad lyrics and haunting guitar riff of the song stuck with me, and some time later I came across this album in the used section of the now-defunct Starbound Records in West Valley City, UT, and snatched it up when I saw that it contained the song.

The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald was, of course, Lightfoot's biggest hit ever, and most people I know either love or hate this song. It's a modern interpretation of the old sailor's epic sea ballad; the kind of song that would be passed down through the generations containing the wisdom and warnings of the distant past. People foget that the Great Lakes really are vast inland seas, despite being freshwater, and their waters deserve the same kind of seafaring legends as the Mediterranean with its Iliad and Odyssey.

But of course this album isn't all Gitche-Gumee and the gales of November. In fact, most of it is consists of upbeat, catchy tunes, with infectious rhythms, memorable lyrics, and choruses with some fantastic vocal harmonies. The opening track, Race Among the Ruins, had all of these qualities and became an instant favorite the minute I put the needle to the record. Other similar, upbeat tracks on the album include I'd Do it Again and the title track Summertime Dream, These are nicely balanced out by slower tracks such as I'm Not Supposed to Care, the easy listening of Spanish Moss, and the rolling, road-music like sound of Never Too Close. The House You Live In continues the wisdom-and-warnings theme of Edmund Fitzgerald, with an almost identical rhythm and meter but a more positive underlying mood, while songs such as Protocol and the closing track Too Many Clues In This Room convey a sense of thoughtful, lyrical contemplation.

The cover art of the album features a simple black-and-white photo of Lightfoot printed in a sepia tone with a grainy, airbrushed look to it. On the back is a long, meandering train-of-thought poem full of rich imagery, perhaps composed of discarded lyrical fragments related to the album title.

Overall this is a very well-balanced album, composed of thoughtfully crafted songs. The production is also well-balanced and very clean, with no sign of sounding dated despite having been recorded over 30 years ago.