來自加拿大的民謠搖滾歌手/詞曲作者/吉他手 Gordon Lightfoot 月初去世，享年84歲，之前他曾宣布2023年的美加巡迴演唱會因故延期。
Lightfoot 的歌唱生涯始於 1960 年代初的多倫多民謠巡迴演出，並在 1970 年代因一系列有影響力的暢銷曲而走向全球，他1962年的作品“ Earl;y Morning Rain”是民謠合唱團 Peter Paul and Mary 的一首受歡迎的歌。
Gordon Lightfoot 的暢銷曲包含“The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”(#2/1976)、“If You Could Read My Mind”(#5/1971) 、“Sundown” (#1/1974) 及“Carefree Highway” (# 10/1974)，以及獲得the Billboard 200 排行榜 2 周冠軍的白金專輯 《Sundown》。
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IBdZ645S-o
1974年的冠軍曲，懷念的旋律
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FuzTkGyxkYIThe
“The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”是講1975 年11月10日一艘以密爾瓦基公民領袖命名的礦石船在蘇比立湖沉沒的故事，在錢櫃雜誌排行榜獲得冠軍。
The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
Lyrics: Gordon Lightfoot
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call 'Gitche Gumee'
The lake it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore, twenty six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
That good ship and true was a 'bone to be chewed'
When the gales of November came early
The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
Then later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
When the wave broke over the railin'
And every man knew, as the captain did too
'Twas the witch of November come stealin'
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashin'
When afternoon came it was freezing rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck
Sayin', "Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya"
At 7 p.m. a main hatchway caved in
He said, "Fellas, it's been good to know ya"
The captain wired in, he had water comin' in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
Does anyone know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her
They might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams
The islands and bays are for sportsmen
And farther below, Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered
In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral
The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call, 'Gitche Gumee'
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early
。
