Trusting that most folks observe the de mortuis nihil nisi bonum rule, let me note with sadness the passing of Dan Fogelberg. His Greatest Hits album was one I listened to constantly my sophomore year of high school. I was very much into punk at the same time, listening to mainstream bands like the Clash and more obscure artists ranging from Stiff Little Fingers to Johnny Thunders. But though I pretended to share my friends’ enthusiasm for say, Jodie Foster’s Army, I played my Fogelberg cassette in secret in my room. I wasn’t a popular kid when I was fifteen, of course; but admitting that I teared up everytime I heard “Run for the Roses” would have been the end of whatever social credibility I enjoyed.
I’ve been listening, on the verge of weepiness, to “Same Old Lang Syne” over and over again the last two days. Dear readers, think of the confidence it takes to admit to this!
Do wait for future posts paying tribute to David Gates and Bread; Seals and Crofts; and Helen Reddy.
I have been listening to his Christmas album without knowing that he passed away. I am grateful for the heartfelt music he gave us. I hope for a world where everyone, especially boys and men, can openly appreciate sincere and touching songs without fear of ridicule. Dan Fogelberg must have been a brave man to write and sing them, come to think of it.
Jessi, you remind me of a post I need to do — about music and macho posturing. When I was younger, I spent a lot of time listening to music I didn’t like in order to establish masculine bona fides.
So I wasn’t the only one tearing up over “Run for the Roses” in high school, huh?
RIP, Mr. Fogelberg.
I haven’t listened to him in years, as my tastes have moved away from the kind of music he wrote. But his lyrics have always been haunting to me, and there was a time when he was my favorite musician (although, for me, it was always “Leader of the Band” which captured my heart). I am sorry to hear he is gone.
Dan’s dead? I hadn’t heard. RIP Dan.
One of my favorite songs of all time is “Power of Gold” done with Tim Weisberg. Very astute observation and a great tune.
I was very ambivalent about his later work, although I had the Greatest Hits album you mention. But I think that was more because I would swing from enjoying the immersion of angst and real emotion and feeling suspect of it.
I was sorry to hear of his death.
I was so very sad to hear of his passing. I loved his heartfelt music–his poetic, haunting lyrics. I was unaware that he was ill and that he had prostrate cancer and by the time he was diagnosed the cancer had progressed to a stage, where treatment options are limited. While recently browsing through my music collection, I found a CD and it was pure enjoyment listening to him again. I too hadn’t listened to his music for a quite awhile and was unaware of his body of work. I feel so sad at his passing, but blessed that his music touched the hearts of so many.