Don Quixote
from Hard Place To Find by Tobin Mueller
DON QUIXOTE by Gordon Lightfoot
(with alterations)
Through the woodland, through the valley
Comes a horseman wild and free
Tilting at the windmills passing
Who can the brave young horseman be
He is wild but he is mellow
He is strong but he is weak
He is cruel but he is gentle
He is wise but he is meek
Reaching for his saddlebag
He takes a battered book into his hand
Standing like a prophet bold
He shouts across the ocean to the shore
Till he can shout no more
I have come o'er moor and mountain
Like the hawk upon the wing
I was once a shining knight
The guardian of a king
I have searched the whole world over
Looking for a place to sleep
I have seen the strong survive
And I have seen the lean grown weak
Reaching for his saddlebag
He takes a battered book into his hand
Standing like a prophet bold
He shouts across the ocean to the shore
Till he can shout no more
See the children of the earth wake to find the table bare
See the gentry riding off to take the air
I reach into my saddle bag in hopes I'll find something there
See the jailor with his key
He locks away all trace of sin
See the judge upon the bench
As he tries the case as best he can
See the wise and wicked ones
Who feed upon life's sacred fire
See the soldier with his gun
Who must be dead to be admired
I'm so tired. So tired
See the one who wears the collar
On the ones who dare not tell
See the ones around the gallows
And the ones who buy and sell
See the drunkard, see the youth
Looking for the truth
Reaching for his saddlebag
He takes a tarnished cross into his hand
And standing like a teacher now
He shouts across the ocean...
Then in a blaze of tangled hooves
He gallops off across the land
Where no one will hear
Where no one will hear
To search again
Song Notes: Gordon Lightfoot's version of this song is a classic folk ballad. Epic and tightly balanced. He music was on our phonograph frequently when I was growing up, something both my older sister and my mother could enjoy together. But I had always thought the drama in this song never truly came through. Now, with 40 years of theatrical experience under my belt, I felt it was time to try to bring that drama to life.
Every stanza morphs into a slightly different style, each one trying to accompany a unique emotion, unlocking specific lyrics. It begins with the pounding of hooves, a blues-jazz version of a train coming down the tracks, speaking to a journey (and journeyer) already well matured. I mix minor/minor chord substitions, for this journey could be heroic or tragic, or both at once. A more manic feel seeps into the arrangement until the almost circus-like descending scale of the second chorus. What I play as a blues break is a fragmented verse (the original has many. many more verses!), juxtaposing the poor children and the wealthy gentry. Social commentary in shortened phrases. I added the "I'm so tired, so tired," because I needed to finish that stanza somehow, and the words just came out while I was rehearsing it one day.
The second to last stanza has some of my favorite piano playing on the album. My right hand flourishes fit the feel of a solitary man who seems to be slightly above the plodding world.
The last stanza reverts to the kind of playing I learned from listening to folk guitarists, especially my brother, Tim. It returns closer to the roots of Lightfoot's version that way and gives the ending tableau a kind of dignity. I took great liberty editing those last lines, picking only those that gave the minimal vision of man in the song, a mixture of Don Quixote and the "I" singing the tale...
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