
This John Prine song has been lauded as, “One of the best breakup songs ever written.” Here’s my cover of Prine’s “All The Best.”

This John Prine song has been lauded as, “One of the best breakup songs ever written.” Here’s my cover of Prine’s “All The Best.”
“Ah, but I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.”
These lyrics and the refrain popped into my head a few mornings ago. This sort of thing has been happening to me frequently these days: Long-forgotten songs resurfacing. It may be a function of the aging process, or it might be the universe talking to me. I kind of hope it’s the latter.
In the 1970s, a group called the Bryds covered a few Bob Dylan songs. They made songs like Mr. Tambourine Man and this one popular. The Bryds’ cover of Mr.Tambourine Man went to number one on the US charts, and their cover of My Back Pages went to thirty. I may have never listened to My Back Pages had it not been for The Byrds. By the way, Roger McGuinn and The Byrds are credited with starting the Folk Rock Revolution. And they inspired Bob Dylan to go electric.
In 1964, Dylan released his fourth album, “Another Side of Life.” Around this time, he began to distance himself from his earlier songs. He claimed his earlier work was not about politics. Instead, it was about universal themes and not individual political issues. In “My Back Pages,” Dylan lambasts himself for his authoritarianism and arrogance.
Moving forward, Dylan’s music focused more on individual consciousness and personal freedom. He is remembered more for his music from 1965-1970 than his earlier work.
To me, the lyrics at the top infer that we tend to think we know it all at a young age. I know that I did. As we age, we gain more wisdom and realize that we know less than we thought we did. This understanding opens us to learning more when we admit that we know little in comparison to what is out there. To be open to learning without imposing pre-existing ideas is to become more pliable and, therefore, young.
Here’s my cover of this powerful song.
“Brown-eyed Girl” was originally called “Brown-Skinned Girl.” The song is about an interracial relationship. Morrison changed the name to make it more acceptable to radio stations at the time (1967). Some stations banned it anyway for the line, “Making love in the green grass.” Why some gatekeepers took issue with the line in the free-loving sixties is beyond me. I guess there is no accounting for taste.
From his roots in Northern Ireland, Van Morrison began his musical career at the age of thirteen. He played the saxophone, harmonica, and guitar in several bands until he formed his own group called “Them.”
“Brown-Eyed Girl” launched Morrison’s solo career due to the song’s overwhelming popularity. Ironically, Morrison never truly cared for the song. He considered it “too commercial.” And the psychedelic cover of Morrison’s first solo album appalled him. I think it’s safe to say Van Morrison never came anywhere near the mainstream of music and pop culture.
Most of Morrison’s work consists of rhythm and blues and occasional jazz pieces. The man may be unpredictable, but his songwriting has certainly been prolific. He has written over three hundred songs in his fifty-year career.
Commercial or not, this is a fun song to play. Here’s my cover.
After Steven Digman wrote “Anniversary Song,” he took it to Chris Biondo’s studio in Rockville, Maryland, to record it. At the time, Biondo was looking for material for Eva Cassidy to record. After Chris heard the song, he insisted on recording it with Eva. Digman had another singer in mind, but Biondo wouldn’t give up. After hearing Eva sing “Anniversary Song” on the phone, Digman agreed to let Cassidy record it. The rest, as they say, is history.
This is another song that popped into my head unexpectedly. At first, I decided not to blog about it. But the melody, like Chris Biondo, wouldn’t give up. I guess someone is trying to tell me something. Here’s my cover.
When Richard Marx wrote “Right Here Waiting,” he never meant to publish it. He wrote the song in 2010 as a personal message to his girlfriend and actress, Cynthia Rhoads. At the time, Rhoads was in South Africa making a film. Since Skype or Google Meets didn’t exist, Marx shipped the track directly to Rhoads. Marx wrote the song in twenty minutes. His friends were so moved by it that they convinced the artist to publish it. The song went on to become one of Marx’s biggest hits.
Prior to this blog post, I had never heard of Richard Marx. I was only vaguely aware of the song. When I heard the beginning of the song on a Facebook reel, I was inspired to learn it. Now that I’ve read the backstory, I agree with Marx’s friends. “Right Here Waiting” is a truly moving and beautiful ode to long-distance love. Marx plays a piano accompaniment. I’ve composed a guitar background. Here’s my cover.
Like many of us, Don McLean suffered through difficult passages in his life, many of which are reflected in his music. He wrote and recorded “Empty Chairs” when his marriage was failing. Despite the subject of lost love, I feel there is incredible beauty in the lyrics and the melody, and Mclean’s unique guitar style.
Although the subject is mentioned just once in the song, McLean chose the symbol to sum up his feelings and state of mind at the time. The title is inspired by Vincent Van Gogh’s paintings of empty chairs. Mclean sympathized with Van Gogh and admired his paintings as revealed in his song “Vincent” recorded on the same album: “American Pie.”
I’ve re-recorded “Empty Chairs” with a better guitar and some improved technique. Please enjoy listening.
In this life, change is constant. This is not news to most of us. However, some things never change. A good example is the music of the artist profiled in this post. In 1977, after years of contemplation and a near-death experience with tuberculosis, Cat Stevens converted to Islam and radically changed his lifestyle. He is now known as Jusuf Islam, but the beauty and truth of his music haven’t changed. Jusuf’s songs have endured and are still relevant almost fifty years after they were released. His unique guitar style and vocalizations have remained bright, new, and refreshing through the intervening decades.
“On The Road To Find Out” is a song about a young man who sets out on a journey to clear his mind and see what he can discover. The song parallels Stevens’ life experiences. After a seven-month recovery from tuberculosis, Stevens felt a deep emptiness in his life and a yearning for something more. Out of these ashes, “On the Road to Find Out” was born. The lyrics are not about traveling in a physical sense. They are about Stevens discovering who he was and the purpose, if any, of his existence. Stevens achieved fame and fortune in 1967 at the age of only eighteen when his first three singles hit the charts in his native England. Like many of his recording artist peers, Stevens examined his noteworthy accomplishments and found they had not brought him the peace of mind or happiness he envisioned.
Many of Stevens’ songs reflect his quest for existential answers and a deep sense of fulfillment. I can only hope he found it.
Here’s my cover of this song’s rich lyrics and beautiful melody.
Jackson Browne’s music is lyrical and penetrating. He is a poet as well as a prolific songwriter, musician, and vocalist. I became a long-time fan upon hearing his hit song, “These Days.” The song appears in the inspirational film “Invincible,” a story about an average guy who eventually realized his dream of playing in the NFL for the Philadelphia Eagles.
Most of Browne’s music is bitter-sweet. “My Opening Farewell” is a fine example. The melody, lyrics, and guitar technique are evocative. The song is played in an open D tuning which Browne uses brilliantly to paint pictures, emotions, and moods. I feel it is sad/beautiful, like the woman described in the song. It’s about one of Browne’s early love relationships that lasted a few years.
In an interview, Browne had this to say about the relationship and the meaning of My Opening Farewell:
“Elektra [Records] had this recording ranch up in northern California and we stayed at this hotel. And a train ran by it. So: ‘there’s a train every day, leaving either way,’ and the whole idea [being] that you could go one way or the other. And this relationship was struggling. The song is about the particular moment when you recognize that the person you love wants to be anywhere else. Wants to be gone; wants to move on.”
Here’s my cover.
Played with Martin D-35 Guitar
Played with Martin D-45 Guitar
*Both tracks have minor flubs. Can’t get through this piece without them.
Photo by Vadim Boichenko
“Song for a Winter’s Night” is one of Gordon Lightfoot’s earliest love songs. It is also one of his biggest hits.
As folk music became commercially viable in the late sixties, clubs blossomed featuring promising folk musicians. Gordon Lightfoot landed a job in one of them in downtown Toronto. He stood apart from the crowd because he performed many of his own songs in a characteristically pure voice. After he developed a following, a club owner invited Lightfoot to perform at his club across the street at twice the salary. Lightfoot gratefully accepted the invitation to perform at the Riverboat, Toronto’s premier folk music club.
With his beautiful voice and prolific outpouring of quality music, it was only a matter of time before Warner/Reprise records rewarded Lightfoot with a one million dollar recording contract, an unheard-of number for a Canadian singer.
Lightfoot recorded “Song for a Winter’s Night in 1967 on his album, “The Way I feel.” Many recording artists covered it, including Sarah McLachlan in the soundtrack for the film “Miracle on 34th Street.”
Gordon wrote the song on a hot summer night while performing in Cleveland. He missed his wife at the time, Brita Ingegerd Olaisson, and his thoughts turned to winter. Here’s my cover.
In a ten-year career tragically cut short by Leukemia, Kate Wolf wrote and performed over 200 songs. Her music is poignant, straightforward, honest, and beautiful. She performed at venues throughout her native state of California. Since her passing in 1986 at the age of 44, Kate’s audience has grown steadily as people like me discover her music. “September Song” (recorded on Kate’s 1979 album “Safe at Anchor”) is one of my favorites.
The song is replete with images. I particularly like the image conjured in the second verse illustrated below:
“The ghost of a frontier lady walks through the tall rooms/Of an old Ontario farmhouse under the full moon.”
Here’s my cover of “September Song.”