While I was for holidays, I was mooching a car from some family and there was a Dan Fogelberg greatest hits cd in the player (I have family from Peoria, where Fogelberg grew up … in fact, the car I was driving belongs to a guy who bummed around with one of Fogelberg’s brother, … but this is not a six-degrees of Kevin Bacon thing … I digress).
Anyway, it was great to get reacquainted with his music. “Same Auld Lang Syne” still strikes me as among his best songs (which reminds me, songwriter
Little things can be so effective. That brass quartet that punctuates “Leader of the Band” serves as a kind of musical honor guard, an arranger’s lark that helps keep the song from becoming funereal, and the echo of a family band, all at once.
Or the way he rhymes the word “primeval” … gracefully.
There are plenty of reasons to mourn Fogelberg in his own right as an artist, but he also exemplifies an era of singer-songwriter music that has largely been killed off by overpopulation, by way too many wannabes and hacks with a guitar and a knapsack full of some grimy lead sheets to songs nobody wants to hear, much less record. So RIP, Dan Fogelberg, and the music of a moment you came to embody.Email this Post