Throughout the course of this blog, I’ve tried to paint a picture that shows just how multifaceted my musical journey has been. Just when I think I’ve discovered it all, I am magically exposed to yet another dimension that I never knew existed, and it somehow makes my feelings toward music richer, deeper and more exciting.
Twelve years ago, I met the man who is now my husband. Among the many good things that came with this twist of fate was true love, and of course, new music (well, new to me, anyway). Music is a love we both share, and, with the 40-year age gap that exists between us, it’s safe to say that the music on his ipod is considerably different from mine. And sometimes, different is good. In my case, it was very good.
I married a man whose formative years took place in the 1960s, a time when rock and roll was exploding and evolving so quickly that even the most dedicated music fan could barely keep up. This tidal wave of sound brought with it the likes of The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell, The Mamas and The Papas, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Gordon Lightfoot, The Guess Who, Van Morrison, The Band and so, so many more. These were the artists responsible for laying the foundation of popular music as we know it, and believe it or not, I hadn’t heard a single song by most of them when I met my husband.
I know, I know: it seems absolutely ridiculous that I grew up such a crazed music fan, but had not heard many of the greats. Blasphemy. But the truth is, I was a product of my time. I only heard the music I had access to in my formative years, just as my husband only heard the music he had access to in his. It just so happened that the music he had access to in his day was going to end up being a lot more timeless than mine.
So, not long after we met, he sent me the song Just Like a Woman by Bob Dylan. My impressions were mixed. I didn’t care for the nasally voice, but immediately understood that lyrically, it was spectacular.
But when we meet again/Introduced as friends/Please don't let on that you knew me when/I was hungry and it was your world/Ah, you fake just like a woman, yes, you do/You make love just like a woman, yes, you do/Then you ache just like a woman/But you break just like a little girl.
I couldn’t believe a man of 25 had penned words so poignant, bold and beautiful. And there was plenty more where that came from. The year before, in 1965, the same man would be responsible for creating what Rolling Stone magazine still considers, to this day, to be the number one rock song of all time: Like A Rolling Stone. Loaded with imagery, driven by an organ and accompanied by Dylan’s unadulterated passion and commitment, this was rock and roll in its finest and purest form. After hearing it, I remember thinking: “Holy Fuck. I know nothing about music. Real music. There’s so much more I need to learn!”
After that, I gladly listened to whatever surprises my husband’s collection had in store. Tom Petty, Van Morrison, Elton John, and so many more all became fast favourites. But none of them struck me as deeply as Gordon Lightfoot.
The Canadian folk legend’s ability to combine beautiful melodies, intricate stories and moving lyrics while delivering them with a voice that is hauntingly heartbreaking and breathtaking all at once is a true gift. Take 1967’s Canadian Railroad Trilogy: this song was written by Lightfoot after being commissioned by the CBC to create something that would celebrate the country’s centennial. The final product paints a vivid, beautiful and sometimes painful portrait of Canada’s commitment to this project, and the sacrifices made.
There was a time in this fair land when the railroad did not run/When the wild majestic mountains stood alone against the sun/Long before the white man and long before the wheel/When the green dark forest was too silent to be real.
And when the young man's fancy was turnin' to the spring/The railroad men grew restless for to hear the hammers ring/Their minds were overflowing with the visions of their day/And many a fortune lost and won and many a debt to pay.
For they looked in the future and what did they see/They saw an iron road runnin' from sea to the sea
Bringin' the goods to a young growin' land/All up through the seaports and into their hands.
As I listen, I’m awestruck by the detailed story he tells with such beauty and vision.
And, it doesn’t stop with that song. There are so many more that are equally wonderful. Take 1972’s Hiway Songs. This track is the epitome of Canadian pride:
When I walk the hill so high/Around the town where I was born/New York seems so far away/though I was there just yesterday.
I have played on my guitar/In coffeehouses, hall and bars/Everyone that I call friend/Knows they will not be forgot.
I would travel all my life/If loneliness was not the price/While headin' north across that line's the only time I'm flyin'.
Just for now I'd like to rest/In the shade of a maple tree/To the blue Canadian sky/I'll say a prayer for the world out there.
Every time I hear this song, it makes me happy that despite his fortune and fame, he is proud to call Canada home. And, while fortune and fame aren’t the name of my game, I am proud to call Canada home too. It’s nice to hear someone else share the sentiment in such a beautiful way.
Had I not met my husband, I may never have known or cared about these wonderful songs and artists, and that blows my mind; now, I can’t picture life without them. They amplify my appreciation for music immensely.
But, the road goes both ways: as much as I have learned from my husband’s vast 4,000-song playlist, he has learned from mine, too. Our mutual love for music has allowed for a mass crossover of styles, genres and timelines. I introduced him to the likes of Arcade Fire, The Trews, P!nk, The White Stripes, The Killers and many more. We take turns with our tracks, and we’re both thrilled to share in each other’s musical worlds.
Just when I think music can’t possibly have any more dimensions, it surprises me with another facet that is new, wonderful and magical. I hope it never stops.
What are some great bands or artists were you introduced to by another person? Comment below!