Gordon-Lightfoot

Hands up anyone who recognized the song from the beginning of the episode!  *Crickets chirp*

It was “Sundown” by Gordon Lightfoot and I’m not sure how much meaning I should take from this song choice, considering the lightness of the 200th episode, but it’s a very cool choice for the show.

Firstly, it’s the first time they have used Gordon Lightfoot, who is a Canadian legend, but less known outside our borders, which could be taken as a bit of a nod towards the location of filming.  Additionally, the song was released in 1974, which positions it firmly in the timeframe of the classic rock, that the show so loves to celebrate.

Now, if we look at the content of the song, it makes sense why they were playing it:

Sometimes I think it’s a shame
When I get feeling better when I’m feeling no pain
Sometimes I think it’s a shame
When I get feeling better when I’m feeling no pain

Sometimes I think it’s a sin
When I feel like I’m winning when I’m losing again (x)

Since it played as we watched Dean put back together the Impala, which has always symbolized his soul and his state of being, this song emphasizes the fact that, in that moment, Dean is feeling “better,” but “no pain.”  Dean hasn’t yet been shown trying to numb himself with alcohol as he has in the past, following his stint as a demon, however, in 10x04, he seemed flat.  Empty.  Broken.  Him repairing the Impala is an attempt to fix himself.  Like if he can fix her, he can fix himself.

But in the end, it “feel[s] like I’m winning when I’m losing again.”

(x)

9

The Edmund Fitzgerald Remembered

40 years ago, on November 10, 1975, the cargo ship Edmund Fitzgerald sank during a storm in Lake Superior near Whitefish Point off the coast of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. There are several theories as to what may have caused the ship to sink in a flash, but the actual reason will likely never be known. The remains of the 29 crew members were never recovered.

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The Wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald by Gordon Lightfoot

Lyrics

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early

The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
Then later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
When the wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too
'Twas the witch of November come stealin'
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashin'
When afternoon came it was freezing rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind

When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck
Sayin' "Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya"
At seven PM a main hatchway caved in
He said, "Fellas, it's been good to know ya"
The captain wired in he had water comin' in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

Does anyone know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her
They might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams
The islands and bays are for sportsmen
And farther below, Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral
The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early