Performer: Robbie Robertson
Songwriters: Robbie Robertson, Patrick Leonard
Original Release: Music for The Native Americans
Year: 1994
Definitive Version: None
Debbie is part Cherokee on her Mom’s side. She’s not an activist, but she does embrace that part of her and is interested in the history. Soon after we started dating, a special on Native Americans was aired on PBS, and she made sure I knew when it was on, because she wanted to come over and watch it on my new TV.
That was fine, but I was even more geeked for the special for another reason: Before it aired, Robbie Robertson released a new album of music dedicated to the special. It was in many ways a return to the sound of his first album, which I loved. If I remember correctly, this song wasn’t actually aired during the special.
Anyway, this song—and album—is the sound of Fall 1994 to me. I hear this or Pisces Iscariot by Smashing Pumpkins, which came out at about the same time, and I can’t but help to think of my Mondays off when I’d go out shopping for something else for my apartment. German Village, being an old neighborhood, was loaded with Sycamores, Maples and Oaks, so falling leaves were everywhere—as was the smell of wood-burning fireplaces that were in every building (including mine).
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