We'll always remember him for paying tribute to a sinking ship that wasn't the Titanic, but "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" aside, Gordon Lightfoot has survived four decades of popular music and at sixty is still an internationally recognized singer-songwriter. For evidence of his prolific career, one need look no further than the Gordon Lightfoot Songbook, a four-CD boxed set containing eighty-eight tracks (including sixteen previously unreleased) spanning his entire, nineteen-album career, from struggling, obscure Canadian folksinger to seasoned star. Elevators and doctors' offices the world over will forever pump out "If You Could Read My Mind," "Sundown" and "Carefree Highway," but there's much more where that came from. Gordon pauses one afternoon to reflect.

Has the boxed set stirred up many memories?

Lot of changes. All the peaks and valleys of the personal life come into focus. I haven't got a problem with it. I got to listen to everything. I blocked out five days and listened to everything. I made notes as I went. I found some really interesting demos and I said 'My God, the fans are going to love this.' It's really not too bad at all. It's really entertaining.

What was the weirdest, least Gordon Lightfoot-like song you included?

I got a neat one like that -- "Always on the Bright Side." Guy talking about his woman. It's an interesting arrangement. It's quite different from anything else I ever wrote ... it's quite ethereal.

I noticed there was no "Black Day in July" (Lightfoot's song about the 1968 race riots following Martin Luther King's assassination).

I don't like to open up old memories best left undisturbed. I don't like to be a s--- disturber. I don't do that one. It's not one of my favorite songs anyway to play live. I go by what goes over best with the crowd and they don't request that one too much anymore. No, I don't like it.

Do you have a favorite song?

I look forward to playing everything. I like "In My Fashion." It's got a good beat. I work with my show all the time. I've got about fifty-five songs in my repertoire and I've got to get that peeled down to twenty-eight every night and sometimes less. Certain songs must be done and you fill in the spaces with rotating them.

How do you explain your longevity in such a fickle business?

Well, I really like doing it. I like to play live, maybe too much so. That's my science, which means staying well rehearsed and staying in physical condition. I have a program and I've been on it for years and it helps the breathing in the lungs and I feel like doing it. We do about forty shows a year all across North America and that's a nice perk to have and I don't want to lose it, so that's what motivates me.

Any advice to aspiring singer-songwriters?

How about 'Keep up the good work'? Just writing the damn things is the first problem. It seems insurmountable until they come.

Do the songs still come to you?

I have a collection of thoughts and ideas I can refer to, but my timing is all changed now. It ain't like it used to be. I used to have more time. Now I'm parenting two young children. I wrote myself right through my Warner Brothers contract so I'm not under any duress, so I haven't thought about it in nine months. I don't feel compelled. It's nice. The anthology has fallen into place. I may not start writing until I get settled next year. If I have one more in me I'll do it whether it sells or not.

Unlike a lot of folk singers, you wrote from the beginning of your career.

I knew I had to write my own material right at the outset. I was singing "Rags to Riches" by Tony Bennett in assembly. My sister would play piano. I remember saying, 'I bet I could write a song,' so when I was seventeen I did write my first one.

Called?

'The Hula Hoop.' It was a topical song. You have to give me some credit. It was humorous.

Ever play it?

No, they'll have to stretch that one out of me.

ROB O'CONNOR
(June 18, 1999)