Songwriter Spotlight: Dave Loggins

In Songwriter Spotlight: Dennis De Castro, Music Lessons and the Lessons of Music I described how the man who taught me not just to play, but to love the guitar would accommodate my musical interests rather than following conventional guitar teaching methods. But even before Dennis showed up in my parents’ driveway the first time there is the story of how that moment came to pass. It all started with the late, great Dave Loggins.

As I approached the momentous event of graduation from 8th Grade at Hickory Elementary School, I had a few friends who were taking guitar lessons from Dennis’ brother, Greg. They were getting pretty good and were clearly obsessed with their weekly lessons. (One of them, Ryan Hedgecock, went on to eventually form the band Lone Justice that achieved some notoriety in the early 80s).

Greg and Dennis had a band at that time called Skye and my friends managed to get the student council to hire Skye for our 8th Grade graduation dance. There were a few grumbles that Skye didn’t play Led Zeppelin, Grand Funk Railroad, Rolling Stones and other staples of the day. But, for me, Skye was a complete revelation. The music that night was not that far afield from the country and country rock albums I had been listening to, alone, for most of my Southern California youth. In particular, they played a song called “Please Come to Boston” which, as most folks now know, is not considered one of the great dance numbers from the 80s. But, it was a terrific song that I had never heard before. And it spurred me to ask my parents to let me take lessons from Greg too.

When Mom checked with Greg about giving me lessons he said he had a full slate of students but his brother Dennis was starting to teach as well. That worked fine for me because Dennis was the one who sang “Please Come to Boston” for Skye.

At one of our first lessons I told Dennis that I wanted to learn “Please Come to Boston.” He dutifully wrote out the chords and lyrics. It was a bit more of a challenge than I anticipated but the extra chords were intriguing enough that I stayed with it.

When Dennis came back the next week and I played “Boston” for him as best I could, he asked, “Have you ever listened to the whole album by Dave Loggins?” I assumed “Loggins” meant Loggins and Messina so I said no but that I’d heard Loggins and Messina before. Dennis chuckled and said, “No, this is Dave Loggins. I think he and Kenny Loggins are cousins or something but it’s a different guy and he’s amazing. You should listen to the album.”

At this point there really wasn’t much that Dennis could recommend that I wouldn’t follow through on so I went to the record store the next day and bought the album “Apprentice in a Musical Workshop” by Dave Loggins. I took it home and played it. The first time I listened I loved “Please Come to Boston,” but the rest of the album was “OK.” Nonetheless, Dennis said it was good so I listened again and I noticed how most of the songs had an unusual chord change or feature to them that I hadn’t picked up on before. So I listened again. By the time Dennis arrived the next week I was addicted to the album.

Dennis and I sat and listened to the album for most of that lesson as Dennis pointed out things that Dave Loggins did as both a performer and songwriter that set him apart. Most significantly was that the album was predominantly country in orientation though not like Nashville or Austin, but somehow incorporating aspects of both. Traditionally, most country hits employ the 1-4-5 chord structure which is as simple as it gets. Virtually all of Dave Loggins’ songs added two to four chords that kept things interesting.

Dave Loggins also wrote lyrics that failed to follow country or pop rigidly. He could be very gifted with metaphor and imagery (as my high school friend Dave pointed out, however, Loggins was susceptible to the occasional clunker lyrically—Dave was always good at helping me temper my obsessions). The thing that Dennis loved most about Dave Loggins though, was his vocal range. I have tried to play many of his songs over the years and usually the thing that defeats me is a high or low note that I can’t pull off.

That Dennis and I were not alone in our admiration became clear at the 1985 Country Music Awards when Dave Loggins, as far as I am aware, made his only appearance on that Awards show. He did not perform one of his own songs but sang a duet with Anne Murray of a syrupy crossover pop song called “Nobody Loves Me Like You Do.” The song ended up being a huge hit for her but didn’t do a lot to expand Dave Loggins’ following. The audience response that night when he walked on stage, however, far exceeded the typical 1980s country music crowd. Most of America may not have known Dave Loggins, but the stars of country music clearly adored him. It is one of my few regrets in life that I never got to see him play live.

Dave Loggins passed away last summer so I’ve spent a lot of time revisiting his albums this year. “Please Come to Boston” was his only hit as a solo performer. He made three more albums after “Apprentice.” I had the same reaction to each of them the first time I heard them—a little disappointment followed by growing infatuation with each subsequent listen. I came to appreciate that Loggins’ gift was his ability to write songs that stood out for their deceptive intricacy that rewarded those who stuck with them. He ultimately had a string of country hits by other artists over the years. I was almost always able to spot one of his songs when I heard it on the radio because of some unexpected chord change or lyric that did not rhyme when I expected it to, but that I ultimately realized made the song better in some subtle and significant way.

“Country Suite” and “One Way Ticket to Paradise” are my favorite Dave Loggins albums but my favorite song was on “Apprentice.” I have been playing “My Father’s Fiddle” for almost fifty years. Loggins’ version features a beautiful pedal steel guitar and a wonderful fiddle solo. Recently, JC and I played with it. I am including the lyrics and video below.

My Father’s Fiddle

 Country music was the backbone of his life
Any song, you choose it, he'd play anything you like
Most every evening, you could find me by his side
Where I'd lend a third part harmony to Mom and Dad’s duets
Until lullabies hung from my eyes and I wandered off to bed

And I can see my mother in this country home
I got a sister and two brothers all my own
And believe me, family unity was ever so strong
When I heard my father's fiddle play
Some good ol' country songs
(When my father's fiddle played)

Country neighbors, they say that he's the best around
He played their favorites at every Friday night hoedown
And late in the evening with the neighbors homeward bound
His closings were as customary as turning out the lights
A quarter for my pocket, a love song for his wife

And I can see my mother in this country home
I got a sister and two brothers all my own
And believe me, family unity was ever so strong
When I heard my father's fiddle play
Some good ol' country songs

 Ah, but where, oh, where has the time gone?
It's been years since my ears have been played upon
I heard the fiddler lost his tune in some barroom
And his family to another town
It must be lonesome wishin' all you've lost could somehow find you now

And I can see my mother, she lives all alone
I got a sister and two brothers but they're all grown
And believe me, family unity was ever so strong
When I heard my father's fiddle play
Some good ol' country songs

Words and Music by Dave Loggins

Songwriter Spotlight: Dennis de Castro, Music Lessons and the Lessons of Music

My mother muttered, “Oh my God” as we turned on to our suburban street in Southern California after she picked me up from baseball practice. I was 14 years old.

This was the day I mentioned in RIP Jerry Jeff Walker or How I Fell in Love with the Guitar. My “cool new guitar teacher” was parked in our driveway, leaning on his decrepit Carmengia, smoking a cigarette. He was a large man with even larger hair that fell in curls to the middle of his back. My mother pulled into the garage and we got out to introduce ourselves.

“Hey, really sorry about parking in the driveway but I have to pop the clutch to start my car so I try to park on a slope whenever I can.” In a daze, my mother wandered inside. This was not the way things worked in suburbia. That was the first day of what continues to be a long friendship between Dennis de Castro and me (and, eventually, between my mother and Dennis as well).

I knew from my friends who were taking lessons from Dennis’ brother that he was not going to start me on “Twinkle, Twinkle” or “Bill Bailey” or give me scales to learn. He would teach me what I wanted to learn. Now it was Dennis’ turn to be shocked. I proudly told him I wanted to learn Willie Nelson’s “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” and Tom T. Hall’s “Ballad of Forty Dollars.” To his credit, he didn’t say “Really?” but I was friends with some of his other students and I knew they were not asking to learn songs by 40-something-year-old country music artists. After a few minutes to get his bearings, he listened to the songs, figured them out quickly and then said, “Well, all right. These aren’t bad.” The next week I asked to learn “Fire and Rain” by James Taylor which I think struck him as a little more sane. It was also a bit more complex so he was able to challenge me in the process. 

For the next four years, that is how I learned the guitar. Dennis would occasionally slip a little theory or some scales in to show how the song I was wanting to learn came to be. I never picked enough of that up to be considered a musician but, by letting me roam the world of music in the places that I wanted to hang out, Dennis gave me the freedom to become a very content guitar player with just enough skill to be able to play with and for others without embarrassment, figure out songs on my own and comfort myself with music when the need arose.

After a couple years, I told Dennis I wanted to learn how to write songs. I don’t remember what he said in response to encourage me to give it a try, but I do remember that he played one of his songs. He said it was one he wrote when he was having some rough times and it just sort of poured out. It was written in about 20 minutes. His point was that that was how songwriting could be sometimes and you just have to go with it. I’ve probably written about 100 songs since then, most of them pretty bad. But I probably have about a half dozen or so that “just poured out” and they are the ones that I tend to play the most.

By our last year, Dennis and I were usually just swapping songs for our lessons. It became clear that I had reached a point roughly equal to my ambition as a guitar player. We concluded that it was silly for two friends to get together every couple weeks, play music, talk about our favorite new albums, baseball and the other things we had in common…and then for me to pay him.

Time, distance, family, jobs and myriad other distractions have interceded over the last 40+ years but Dennis and I still see each other from time to time. We play our latest songs for each other, talk about family, baseball and, most importantly, God. Without Him, I don’t think a clean cut kid from classic suburbia and a hippie rock and roller could have found and learned so much from each other. 

That first song Dennis played for me is still one of my favorite songs. It’s called “A Mountain and a Tree.” On a recent visit I asked Dennis to play it so I could share it with you. 

By the way, Dennis has been a big fan of country music for a long time now…

A Mountain and a Tree

Words and Music by Dennis de Castro

I hear you are a lonely man and you don’t know which way to go,

The blues are all around you and all you want to be is home,

Tell me what you’re thinking about, tell me what I really want to know,

It’s so hard to see inside you, you don’t have to hide yourself no more.

And it’s a long way to go when you don’t have yourself a home,

You’re thinking about your young years when all you did was roam,

You keep looking for an answer without using your eyes,

And listening to someone who keeps telling you lies,

Where are you going, what have you done?

Why are you walking, you should be learning to run.

Take a look inside your eyes, tell me everything you see,

Who are you now, who are you going to be?

The colors of your dreams they all have scattered to the corners of your mind,

Get rid of the separation, fulfill your destination and mine.

I am a mountain top touching the sky,

You are a redwood that’s grown so very high,

So plant yourself upon myself and feel our strength combined,

The colors of your dreams they now have definite design,

You lost yourself and found yourself by looking through at me,

I am the man inside you, the man you want to be,

So now we are together, our minds they now are free,

Together with the unity of a mountain and a tree.