CONCERT REVIEW
Gordon Lightfoot
Mountain Winery, Saratoga CA
Wednesday, August 14, 2002
People tell me I’m a child
of the 80’s. True, most of my coming-of-age
experiences happened during that decade, but the 70’s did mark the first decade
of my existence. And an indisputable
part of that existence was the music of Gordon Lightfoot. An inspiration to writers everywhere,
Lightfoot’s words and melodies gave you your very own support network—almost
like returning to the womb—with thoughts and images that warm you, nurture you,
and help you laugh or cry when you need to.
Next to me sat a husband and
wife. He had a pile of papers on his
lap, printouts from a Gordon Lightfoot Web site. Three pages of background and six (!) pages of song titles. Each time a song would begin, the wife would
lean over and whisper the name (sometimes correctly, sometimes incorrectly) to
her husband, who would scan the printed list for said title. It’s definitely telling that I was so easily
distracted by this scenario. And
because the Mountain Winery is an open amphitheatre, the distraction lasted
until it was too dark to see anything but the stars surrounding us.
This is not to say that the
show wasn’t good. The music was just as
rich as ever, and there’s no denying the impact of his words. “If You Could Read My Mind” is, in my
opinion, one of the most beautiful songs ever crafted. But Lightfoot seems to have lost much of his
vocal power with age. His voice sounded
strained and on several songs he was over enunciating and spitting the words
out. My husband is probably right in
thinking he needed to move closer to the microphone.
During the intermission, one
of the women behind me talked about Gordon Lightfoot as a prominent figure in
her dreams when he was younger.
Particularly his “great ass, prominent cheekbones and that whole
‘Canadian mountain man’ thing” he had going for him. She was lamenting the fact that he looked like “someone needs to
feed him a sandwich.”
That was it, I thought. That’s what was bothering me about the
evening. There’s still something
there—the solid underpinnings of a once great entity—but the flesh, the strength,
the life, the being, seems to have wasted away.
The Mountain Winery is a fun
and romantic place to see a concert.
Getting there is an event in itself, along narrow twisty roads and then
up a very steep mountain road with some blind corners and switchbacks, but well
worth the trip.
You can bring food and hang
out in designated picnic areas or choose your own spot on the edge of the
parking lot, overlooking the hills and expanse of Silicon Valley (note that
next season outside food will be banned in favor of a parking lot
concessionaire—I guess the $10 parking fee on top of the concert tickets wasn’t
bringing in enough money). The open-air
amphitheatre is in a bowl setting with bleachers climbing the hills on three
sides and chairs at stage level.
There’s a concession area inside with fantastic garlic fries, pretzels,
hot dogs, other food items and an assortment of drinks, including (of course)
wine.
When you come, bring
layers. Sometimes the temperature
remains pleasant through most of the evening, sometimes the sun goes down and
the temperature drops 30 degrees. A
good cushion or blanket is advisable for all seats, and don’t plan to sit in
the stage-level seats if you have “space” issues—you and your neighbors are
going to be mighty close for the duration of the concert.
Oh, and ladies—if you have
to go, you might want to opt for the longer-line wait at the restroom that’s in
the building behind the concession area.
It’s wonderful that someone thought to set up extra restroom trailers
for the ladies to use, but they don’t seem to have solved the water pressure
problem, which leaves all of these extra seats unflushed and the sink water
down to a trickle.