Sinead O'Connor RIP

Sinead once said that ripping up the photo of the pope on SNL didn't destroy her career, it allowed her to recover her career and be the confrontational artist she always had been and always wanted to be.  The SNL appearance destroyed the career of the music execs who were banking on another five million copies sold for her next album. She had a long, successful career and never conformed to popular demand.  Her career trajectory will never be repeated.

I admittedly lost track of her musical output around 1995, her interests and mine were completely divergent in the mid-nineties.  When you'd read something about her it would usually be clickbait-style reporting on her personal hardships.  That's just how it was post-1993, once the money (according to the music establishment) was no longer in selling millions of records, it shifted to incessant negativity and phony narratives, crazy Sinead is opening her mouth and saying controversial things again so let's listen and laugh.  It was sad at the time and it's simply inexcusable now.  She was complex, she was always searching, she stood for something, and if she wasn't always perfectly eloquent about it then what does it matter.   Look at the tributes pouring in from musicians across several decades and wildly distinct genres.  I had forgotten how many guest appearances she did on other people's records and various compilations.  The wide spectrum of people who worked with her knew how special she was.  

I have written about "I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got" before, as time passes I think it become an increasingly indispensable classic.  The politics may have changes but the sentiments haven't.  It's still baffling to recall that millions of people paid money to listen to "Three Babies", "Black Boys on Mopeds", and "The Last Day of Our Acquaintance". 

"Get Back", dir. Peter Jackson (2021)

There is so much to say about this remarkable documentary, and yet what can I possibly say about the Beatles and "Get Back" that hasn't been said in the nearly two years since its release?

There have been a recent spate of biopics with shabby narratives and one-dimensional characters that exist mainly to provide a "fly on the wall" experience for the viewer who often dreamt of "being there" during those magical moments.  Every one of them has been put to shame by "Get Back".  Eight hours of insight into the inner workings of the actual, real life Beatles -- how can you top it?  

For the most part, the Beatles were who we thought they were at the time the documentary was filmed.  Paul was the confident perfectionist, assumed leader of the band, whose visionary ideas influenced the final output more than any other Beatle.  

John was the reluctant Beatle, charming and magnetic, but not entirely reliable and prone to moments of lethargy.  He was at home jamming with the others and goofing off in the studio, but less tolerant of the minutiae of deadlines and day-to-day business of the band.  Yoko accompanied him everywhere, and it's clear that he was mentally checked out of The Beatles.  The seeds are clearly sown for his departure from the band later that year.   

George's heart wasn't entirely in their work either, it's clear he felt underappreciated and restrained by continuing to work in the Beatles.  Some have commented that George comes across as petulant and immature, fighting over creative credit with John and Paul instead of just enjoying his fame and money.   For the most part I felt sorry for George.  He couldn't crack the McCartney-Lennon partnership, and had no hope of being a key creative force in the band no matter how hard he tried.  John could get away with bringing Yoko everywhere, and the other Beatles simply needed to learn to cope with it.  But nobody had much patience for George's meditation retreats and weirdo Hare Krishna friends.  In short, George needed to go solo more than any of the others. 

Ringo might have been quiet, barely uttering a word during most of the recording sessions, but his importance to the Beatles' sound couldn't have been more stark.  He hardly ever spoke, but he was constantly attentive, never caused any drama, and never had a bad take.  Ringo and Billy Preston were the unsung heroes of the film, always radiating positive vibes and providing the glue to keep the music flowing.  Preston's entry into the band is like night and day, the direction of the project doesn't fully gel until he joins.  

Prior to the release of "Get Back", the narrative was that the mood in the studio was horrible and that The Beatles were on the verge of collapse.  This is partly due to the "Let It Be" documentary (which I haven't seen) that was released over fifty years ago using some of the same footage.  I expected more shouting and arguments, but those are virtually non-existent.  For the most part, everyone is professional and enjoying themselves when they're able to sit together and jam.  A significant part of the film shows them messing around in the studio, playing wacky cover versions and impromptu jams.  Seeing Yoko as a constant presence is a bit strange, she didn't merely come to the studio and hang out, she sits literally next to John all the time, huddled together with the other three Beatles in the jam circle for hours on end.  But she always sits silently, never interrupts, and is never a distraction.  John never asks her to do anything, never asks her opinion.  After a while she simply blends in with the scenery, John clearly wanted her with him day and night, such was the depth of their connection. 

I can't possibly go into detail on all the nuanced character traits, or the multitude of charming and brilliant musical moments.  The direction of the project changes course a few times during the film, and we get to see it play out.  The build to the rooftop concert is a satisfying payoff, but one that remains in doubt nearly until the final moments. 

If there's a theme to it all, it would be the struggle between the idea of the Beatles as a band, and the Beatles as a brand.  Everybody understands that the band is a valuable commodity, even outside of the the conventional record-tour-album cycle, but nobody really understands how to manage it.  Today, it's normal for bands to go on hiatus, pursue outside projects, and reconvene later.  But there was no precedent for it in 1970.  Each Beatle had begun recording solo work -- they even released their work on the record label they personally set up to handle their interests.  And yet they couldn't find a way to balance their solo work with Beatles business.  It was all or nothing.  They were constantly pushing forward, with new projects and new creative outlets.  Monetizing their back catalog and making a profit off of Beatles nostalgia wasn't part of the vocabulary.  Even the addition of Billy Preston presented a challenge -- these days it's normal to add touring musicians, but at the time it was a genuine struggle to find a way to perform the songs because the four of them on stage was the only performance model they'd ever known.  

If there has ever been a better music documentary, I have yet to see it.  I can't see "Get Back" being topped any time soon.               

"Wham!", dir. Chris Smith

This documentary is difficult to follow, flying by breathlessly in a flurry of audio interviews, video clips, and scrapbook entries (the latter lovingly compiled, in thirty comprehensive volumes, by Andrew Ridgeley's mother during the 1980's").  I'm quite sure that was exactly what was intended.  The brief blaze of glory that was Wham should be presented as a whirlwind of events.  

I constantly needed to remind myself about how young they were.  When Michael tearfully accepted the Ivor Novello award for songwriting (the tabloids cruelly found humour in his show of emotion), he was barely twenty one and had been a mainstream pop star for less than two years.   The entire Wham story lasted only four years, and in documentary form it can seem a bit puzzling to watch it end so quickly.  But that four year arc is roughly the same as that of the Spice Girls, Take That, and One Direction.  Anyone who lived through the peaks of those bands knows how ubiquitous they were.  With the years in the rear view mirror, four years seems like a short time, but in the moment, events unfolded in slow motion nearly every day.  None of those groups imploded, they all went out at or close to the peaks of their power and influence.  It was simply time to move on to something else. 

As corny as it sounds, the highlight of the documentary is observing the strength of the Ridgeley-Michael friendship.  There was never any deep bitterness between them, and Ridgeley couldn't have been prouder or more supportive of Michael's solo success.  Michael comes off as a precocious savant, his talents were underappreciated until his genius became impossible to ignore or write off once "Faith" was released.  From writing "Careless Whisper" in 1981 and later producing it himself, to composing "Last Christmas" in a sudden burst of inspiration, the roots of his more mature and complex solo work are evident. 

Michael's sexual orientation is discussed at length.  We learn that he came out to Ridgeley early in Wham's career, and was torn between pursuing megastar status on the Madonna/Prince level and the pressures of not living his life openly.  I'm obviously not the best person to comment on it, but the 80's were not an easy time for the gay community.  They suffered through AIDS while many politicians remained indifferent and large sections of the general public vilified them for introducing it into the general (i.e. straight) population.  Frankie Goes To Hollywood and Jimmy Sommerville were more the exceptions, a great number of stars were terrified about letting the truth get out and presented themselves as ambiguously as possible.  In the 70's, David Bowie and Elton John could flamboyantly dress up in sequined jumpsuits and skintight leotards, that stuff was a no-go in the 80's.  Pop stars were expected to appear suave, rugged, and straight as an arrow, much like in Duran Duran's era-defining video for "Rio".   Michael speaks repeatedly about his ego, about constantly striving to be the best.  Would he have been even better than he was without the emotional stress?

Lush, "Spooky"

I need to counter the revisionist history of Julianne Shepherd's Sunday review in Pitchfork.   

The review paints Lush as underrated and misunderstood, a pop band unfairly lumped into a scene that wasn't suited for them, subject to discrimination on account of the two main songwriters and vocalists being women.  

As a side note, I need to take issue with this line: "Berenyi was the rare woman of color in the alt-rock scene of any subgenre".  As usual, Jews get no diversity points from most critics, the 90's had Justine Frischmann (Elastica), Louise Wener (Sleeper), Carrie Brownstein and Janet Weiss (Sleater-Kinney), just to name a few off the top of my head.  

"Female fronted rock bands" was a media catchphrase in 90's British indie rock, so I don't understand the implication that two women in a rock band was something particularly rare or notable, even in the shoegaze genre.  

Was there discrimination?  Undoubtedly.  Berenyi's autobiography (which I haven't read, but hopefully will eventually) describes many disturbing events in detail.  The video for Spooky's "Nothing Natural" is all the proof you need of the way male record execs tried to market them as sexy exotic gravure idols rather than just focusing on the music as they would have done with any male band.  With their hair billowing in the artificial wind, bodies pressed close, and wistful stares, it's like indie T.A.T.U. one decade ahead of its time.  Berenyi and Anderson don't look comfortable in the least.  

The suggestion that Lush were a pop entity and not really shoegaze is simply false.  In any number of interviews from the time (many good examples are collected here) they talk about burying their vocals in the mix, turning up the guitars, and playing with other bands in the shoegaze scene.  It's nonsensical to suggest that two former fanzine writers with virtually no prior experience in bands didn't know exactly what they were doing by latching onto a popular underground movement to boost interest in their group.  

Lush were always fairly rated.  During the 90's and 00's, dozens of urban centres had dozens of great shoegaze bands each.  Lush weren't better than most of them.  If anything, being a female fronted band helped distinguish them from the wealth of charisma-challenged male bands.  Musically speaking, "Spooky" is fairly pedestrian and displays its influences (Cocteau Twins, MBV) a bit too outwardly, there's a distinct lack of originality and plodding sameness to the tracks.  But that's how it was in the early days of shoegaze.  Most bands simply ripped off the undisputed kings of the genre and burned out quickly.  The more talented ones learned to adapt. Unfortunately, the mid-to-late 90's were a horrible time for shoegaze veterans trying to remain relevant and grow their audience, they were swiftly shunted aside by Britpop (in the UK) or by grunge and nu-metal (in the US).  

Sharing bills with the Gin Blossoms in America wasn't the right move, but the odds were stacked against them anyway.  Still, they had a decent chance at sustaining their success with "Lovelife".  "Ladykillers" smart and sassy and made perfect sense in the post-"Last Splash", post-"Live Through This" alt-rock scene.  It didn't happen, but that's OK.  I always liked them, I bought their "Best Of" and still enjoy a couple of the early EP's.  But they were not a great band, or an important one, or a band that demands an revision of their legacy.         

Glastonbury 2023

The lineup this year didn't look too exciting to me, I could take a pass on two of the three headliners, but Glastonbury is probably the most famous music festival in the world, so what are you going to do?  A few thoughts:

Lightning Seeds.  I always likes them and when it comes to unexpectedly putting a smile on my face, Lightning Seeds performing their sublimely underrated 90's hit "Life of Riley" was a bittersweet moment for me.

Rick Astley.  Ten years ago, what sort of betting odds could you have gotten on Rick Astley ruling Glastonbury in 2023?  Somehow he's transformed himself from an 80's punchline into a respected crooner by ways of an internet breaking meme.  By the end of "Never Gonna Give You Up", even the security guards were dancing.  Astley performed a second set that day, collaborating with the Blossoms for an inspired set of Smiths covers, providing an alternate reality reunion story in a universe where Morrissey gets canceled once and for all.  

Foo Fighters.  I appreciate their boundless energy, ace musicianship, and incredible connections with live crowds.  But after nearly 30 years, I still don't like hardly any Foo Fighters songs. 

Kelis.  For many of these bands, I only saw a track or two on BBC Music's youtube channel.  Kelis played "Acapella", and it SLAYED.  A booming masterpiece of a track and I'm ready for the full-fledged Kelis comeback.   

ADG7.  This Korean group was wacky but riveting, whimsically folksy yet also sleek and modern.  

Royal Blood.  I'm kind of a sucker for rock duos making shitload of noise (strange that I never cared much for the White Stripes though).  This band was sort of a revelation for me, thanks to their blistering mini-epics and the guitarists' incredible ability to make his instrument sound like a bass and electric guitar at the same time.  

Gabriels.  I didn't recognize former American Idol finalist Jacob Lusk.  Good on him for finding post-Idol success, and capping his weekend with an appearance during Elton John's set.    

Blondie.   The band these days consists of Debbie Harry, Clem Burke, and a few hired hands (including former Sex Pistols bassist Glen Matlock).  I saw Blondie and in 1999 and could scarcely believe that they sounded so relevant and powerful "at their age".  Now it's almost a quarter of a century later, and Debbie Harry still exudes the same effortless New York cool that she's had since her 20's and has never lost for a moment until the present day.

Lizzo.  Yeah, she could have, and probably should have headlined on Saturday.  

Yusuf/Cat Stevens.  The concept of the "legends slot" is losing its meaning when this year's and last year's headliners are older.  His voice sounds almost exactly as it did in the 70's.  

Lil Nas X.  He could have become a one-hit wonder trivia question, but he's built a great career for himself with a succession of post-"Old Town Road" hits.  This was like Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" video stretched out over a full set, with bizarre fashion meets sex fantasy over relentless beats.  

Elton John.  Drawn in by the historic aspect of seeing a legend's final (allegedly) UK show, I watched Elton John's Sunday headlining set in its entirety.  It's the first complete Elton John concert I have ever seen, in any format (live, streaming, DVD), but having been born between the years 1950 and 1980, I know all of the songs.  Elton's vocal range is shot and his dynamic range rarely ventures beyond "loud" to "shouting".  But he's still got the lungs and a remarkable, magnetic energy to his singing and playing.  He and his band have decades of stadium experience and this "farewell" tour is stretching into its sixth year (with a two year COVID break), so there's no way this could be anything other than great.  I don't think his set had that "end of an era" all-time great moment vibe like Paul McCartney's set last year did, where it will be remembered in 20-30 years time.  Maybe that's not a fair criticism, but that seems to be where the bar is set these days for Glastonbury headliners.  But it was undoubtedly a great send off for Elton.     

Lou Reed, "Berlin" -- revisited

It had been a while since I last heard "Berlin" in its entirety.  I felt as though I was hearing it through a set of fresh ears, and my reaction to the music somewhat shocked me.  

I heard an colourless pastiche of emotional decay.  A ploddingly staged and unconvincingly acted two act tragedy, where the pain and sadness are presented for the composer's own amusement.  I couldn't suspend my disbelief and immerse myself in the sentiments suggested by the lyrics. Maybe listening to it in the car was a mistake, this album demands a certain atmosphere that intercity traffic jams obviously don't provide.   

These are the reasons why "Berlin" was, according to legend (I won't try to sort out truth from legend in this brief post), so hated and misunderstood in the 70's.  It eventually became viewed as a masterpiece, the most depressing album ever, an album that can devastate one's mood for the remainder of the day more decisively than just about any record ever made.  So these criticisms are nothing new, I just never agreed with them.  

Sure, I have skipped down this path before, notably in my review of the "Berlin Live at St. Ann's Warehouse", where the music was dragged down to turgid levels of disinterested ineptitude "thanks" to a cringe-worthy and perfunctory Lou Reed performance.  But I also think there's something deeper going on here.

I discovered "Berlin" in 1998, which in retrospect was its peak societal impact.  Lou Reed was a living legend, still coasting off his reputation as an alternative rock pioneer and the good will generated from the Velvets reunion a few years earlier.  Enough time had passed for a thorough re-evaluation of his more "difficult" albums such as this one and "Metal Machine Music".  Before social media and the widespread influence of the TMZ-style internet, the culture was ripe for acceptance of art involving flawed celebrities and their horrifying secrets. The unsettling imagery in "Berlin" -- delinquent parents, and their shrieking children, all-consuming sorrow made worse through copious amounts of drugs -- could have been a commentary on Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love's relationship.  Or more specifically, pre-Twitter and pre-direct windows into thought processes of every major celeb on the planet, it could have been a commentary on how the public perceived their relationship.  This week marked the 25th anniversary of Phil Hartmann's murder.  In the 90's, the music was heavy and serious and debates over "Jeremy" and the impact of Marilyn Manson's shock/art was widespread.  "Berlin" fit right in.  

With the passage of another twenty five years, the culture has flipped.  Hate and depravity get exposed more quickly, sometimes due to the perpetrators own ill-advised tweets.  But "Berlin" had a voyeuristic appeal, all the behaviour it described was taking place in the seedy underground of a divided, isolated city, hidden from public eyes.  That situation no longer exists.  Berlin the city has been transformed immeasurably as well since 1973.  

So what's left of "Berlin" the album, once the debauchery becomes routine?  It enters a sort of limbo between unintentionally amusing (in terms of its orchestration and production) and vapid, tossed-off shock rock (in terms of its artistic merit ... "ooh, he mentioned drugs and suicide again, this is deeeep").  It should be crushingly sad, but instead comes across as disingenuous and not to be taken seriously.     

Andy Rourke RIP, The Smiths Live at Irvine Meadows Amphitheatre June 29, 1985

Smiths bassist Andy Rourke passed away last weekend at the far too young age of 59.  I never cease to be amazed by how young the band was in their time.  Three-quarters of them were only nineteen when The Smiths made their first recordings.  Regarding Rourke's importance to the band, I think the debate over individual contributions to The Smiths (and rock groups in general) has long since been settled.  Singers and lead guitarists are often overrated, whereas rhythm sections are often underrated.  One of the many great things about the Smiths was the perfect musical synergy between its members, each instrument functions as a lead instrument yet blends perfectly into the whole.  Each part is intricate and complex, all the band members are equally busy, but nobody is showing off and trying to dominate over the others.  In the same era, Joy Division were like this, but New Order weren't, except at their very best.   The Stone Roses were like this on their debut album, but not afterwards.  

If there was a tragic figure in The Smiths, it was Rourke (either him or Morrissey, depending on whether you consider his alt-right turn to be tragic or simply a case of getting what he deserves after years of excuses).  His personal issues got him fired from the band, only to be brought back a couple of weeks later (in part, allegedly, because his parts were so difficult to play).  In court, he settled with Morrissey and Marr for a fraction of his true worth, sacrificing millions of pounds of back and future revenues from his singular work with the Smiths.  Morrissey might have trashed him in his court testimony, but he could have grabbed any number of session bassists for his early solo recordings.  He chose Rourke time and again.  The long-awaited reunion, the subject of endless discussion for over three decades, which I and countless others had assumed would eventually happen, never did.  

And that brings us to the ninth in a series of albums that I haven't heard in over twenty years, since the start of this blog in January 2000.  I bought a number of Smiths bootleg cassettes over the years, and this one is particularly famous for its encore, which showcases Rourke at his absolute best.  The audio recording can be heard here.

At this point in their career, The Smiths were a taut live ensemble, infusing a manic energy into their live shows in part thanks to a general quickening of the tempos compared with the studio versions.  The sound quality of this recording is poor, it's a standard audience recording likely done with a cheap tape recorder smuggled into the venue.  These recordings tend to swallow the mid-range treble, thereby ruining the clarity of Johnny Marr's guitar playing.  Morrissey's vocals seem to drift in and out occasionally.  But Rourke's bass playing and Mike Joyce's drumming are accentuated, shining through the hazy mess on several songs but particularly on "Hand In Glove", "Shakespeare's Sister", "Still Ill" (I never liked the studio version of this song, but on live recordings it was always a highlight), and "The Headmaster Ritual".  

I used to revisit this bootleg mainly for two reasons.  The first was the touching and elegant version of "Reel Around the Fountain" that closes the first encore.  It's always been one of my favourite Smiths songs and they rarely played it after 1984.  The second reason is the famous third (!) encore, featuring the final and longest ever live version of "Barbarism Begins At Home", stretched out for an astonishing sixteen minutes.  Marr does his best Nile Rodgers impression on guitar, and Joyce is a muscular machine on drums, but Rourke is the star.   Such impressive funk workouts were unheard of for The Smiths (especially considering Morrissey's infamously dismissive attitude toward all forms of dance music), so it's clear that we have Rourke to thank for this song being the monster that it is.   

Reviewing every Eurovision Song Contest Winner (1972, 1973)

1972.  Vicky Leandros, "Apres toi" (Luxembourg)

A workmanlike entry but nothing more, co-written by the same lyricist (Yves Dessca) who worked on the previous year's winning song ("Un banc, un abre, une rue"), perfectly passable but easily forgettable.  It expresses your standard "oh what will I do without you" sentiments, rendered even more flat and emotionless that it reads on paper owing to Leandros' lack of charisma and indistinctive voice.  At least the orchestra had a good day, unfortunately she's nearly drowned out by it throughout her "winning" performance.  3/10.   

1973.  Anne-Marie David, "Tu te reconnaitras" (Luxembourg)

We're deep into 70's soft rock balladry here, but David's performance is actually quite riveting.  With her piercing stares into the camera and soaring, powerful voice, she lifts the song to the level of a worthy winner.  Truly a moment for the perfect singer having a moment while making the most of a bland and featureless song.  This was one of the closest Eurovision finishes ever, with just six votes separating first place from third.  I have no idea how anyone could have preferred Spain's third-rate 5th Dimension (Mocedades) or the UK's post-post hippie rock (Cliff Richard) entries to this.  6/10.    

Reviewing every Eurovision Song Contest Winner (1970, 1971)

Eurovision is on, and I am back after a four year hiatus to continue (finally) with this project!

1970.  Dana, "All Kinds of Everything" (Ireland)

This was the first of Ireland's record seven wins (as of this writing).  The song is a mix of weepy 50's balladry and post-hippie dewy-eyed shlock.  France Gall and Serge Gainsbourg won in 1965 and provided Eurovision with more of a pulse, those years of excitement came to a crashing halt.  Even the ballads from the mid-to-late 60's, such as Frida Boccara's "Un jour, un enfant" from the previous year, tended to have an operatic fervor that jolted you out of your seat.  Dana's performance is perfectly competent but also somnambulantly boring.  4/10.  

1971.  Severine, "Un Banc, Un Arbre, Un Rue" (Monaco)

This is more Eurovision catnip about growing older and following one's dreams, nearly elevated into something special by Severine's fiercely committed performance.  The bombastic arrangement would have made the LA Wrecking Crew proud, although for me the four male backing singers add nothing and even subtract from the performance because their voices don't mesh with Severine's at all.  What little they add in harmonic depth is taken away by their distracting presence -- the visual impact of the performance could have been far more powerful by focusing it completely on the soloist.  A worthy, but flawed winner.  6/10.    

Gordon Lightfoot RIP

So many thoughts about Gordon Lightfoot ...

• "If You Could Read My Mind" just may be the greatest song ever written, and if it's not, it must be the most perfect song ever written.  There's not one iota of detail about it that you could dream of changing.  The melody, arrangement, vocal delivery, and lyrics are all impeccable.
• Some context regarding this famous, yet brutally awkward clip of Bob Dylan inducting him into the Canadian Music Hall of Fame.  Viewed in isolation, it might appear as though Dylan was confused and/or stoned and/or half-assing it on some low-budget Canadian awards show that he was reduced to appearing on during the nadir of his commercial and critical fame.  In fact, Dylan was never comfortable at award shows, he always appeared nervous, unrehearsed, and would stumble to find his words.  Eventually stopped going to these ceremonies altogether -- remember, he skipped his own Nobel Prize ceremony.  Nearly every Lightfoot obituary in the MSM contains at least one Dylan quote, his esteem for Lightfoot can't be questioned.  Dylan showed up in person to a ceremony not to receive an honour, but to honour someone else, this was a special moment and it speaks volumes about how Dylan felt about him.  
• I grew up seeing the mustachioed Lightfoot of the 70's and 80's, I think that it still most people's first association of him, since it coincides with his commercial peak.  But Young Lightfoot was suave and charismatic, with pop star good looks that could have translated to any era.  
• Who is the better lyricist, Dylan or Lightfoot?  They are often compared with each other, even though their styles are so different.  Dylan is a vocabulary wizard, his twisted turns of phrases and colourful imagery are uncopyable.  But Lightfoot was the master of capturing the feels, he could articulate nearly any human emotion and craft the experience into something more haunting and real than anything you have felt in your entire life.
• An underrated aspect of Lightfoot's lyrics: he could do both sides of heartbreak better than anyone.  Plenty of artists can write about getting one's heart broken, but Lightfoot could also write about those who break hearts ("For Lovin Me", "Go Go Round").
• I think Lightfoot reached his creative peak in the early 70's, as evidence, check out this 1972 performance on the BBC.  There has never been a better acoustic folk troubadour than early 70's Lightfoot.  But my first association with his music is symbolized by "Carefree Highway", for me, it's the sound of late 70's FM-ready soft rock in a nutshell.