It was fall of 1989 and I had recently moved into my new home behind South Mountain in Phoenix, AZ. I was in the midst of a recording project with singer/songwriter Cindy Barber. Cindy and I had met earlier that year and discovered our styles complimented each other beautifully. We were getting wonderful responses at coffeehouses and folk festivals in the region so we decided to make a recording to sell at our performances.
I had recently purchased some modest gear to set up a home recording studio. We'd recorded the tracks for several of Cindy's songs along with a few of mine and were planning next to record my version of Chris Smither's Footloose. The song had become a favorite of mine since meeting Chris several years earlier at my shop, Wood & Strings Music Center in Arlington, Massachusetts, just outside of Cambridge.
Smither and I had become friends over the years. Since he lived in Arlington, he'd often hang out in my shop and we'd chew the fat for hours.
At one point, I even gave him a great deal on what later became his signature blue guitar. For a period of time, that unique guitar appeared on a few of his album covers.
Chris did not take the news well when I told him in 1988 I was selling Wood & Strings and moving to Arizona.
"Siggy (he always called me by my last name, emphasizing the "S"), what the hell are you going to do out there? It's just sand and cactus!"
I smiled, "I'm going to make my wife happy. She hates New England winters and wants to live where there is no snow."
The truth was, I was hoping to save my marriage. She had already decided she was moving to Arizona—with or without me.
Trying to lighten the mood, I added, "Once I get situated, I'll book you some gigs so you can come out and visit - you'll see!"
I kept my word.
About six months after moving to the desert, I booked Chris for a handful of concerts at the local community colleges.
He came out and stayed with us for about a week and I chauffeured him from campus to campus for each performance.
We got to spend some quality time exploring the scenery outside of town and I got to show him what made the desert southwest so breathtakingly beautiful.
On his next trip to Arizona, I'd arranged another couple of concerts.
Once again, Chris was staying with my former wife and me while Cindy and I worked on our recording project, Waving at Strangers.
The morning we were scheduled to record Footloose, I asked Chris if he minded us recording one of his songs.
"Not at all," he said. "I'd like to hear what you do with it."
A little while later, as I was getting things ready before Cindy arrived, Chris wandered into my small bedroom studio and quietly sat down on the couch with his arms folded.
"What do you think you're doing?" I asked.
"I want to see this."
"Like hell! You're not really going to sit there while I record your song!
I told him to go take his morning constitutional and come back in a couple of hours.
He burst out laughing. "Fair enough."
While he was gone, Cindy and I spent the morning building the arrangement. I played guitar, mandolin, and bass, sang the lead vocal, and Cindy added the beautiful harmonies that had become such an important part of our sound. By the time Chris returned, I had a rough mix ready to play. We were thrilled with how it came out.
He plopped down on the couch.
"So?"
"So what?" I answered.
"So... am I going to hear what you did?"
Truth be told, I was dying for him to hear it. And I was more than a little nervous.
I watched Chris intently as the song played. His eyes widened. He slowly shook his head, saying nothing.
When the song ended, he looked at me and said, "Play it again...but first let me get my wife on the phone."
Carol, his wife and manager answered and Chris held the phone out so she could hear the recording.
As it ended, he laughed and exclaimed,
"Damn... Cyge's version is better than mine!!"
I was absolutely ecstatic.
Hearing those words from this brilliant musician and songwriter meant more than any compliment I'd ever received about my music.
And to this day, I can still picture the look on Chris's face as he listened to that first playback. His reaction was more rewarding than I ever could have imagined.
Thanks, Chris.
I still treasure that moment.
This is the recording Chris heard that morning.
🎵 Listen to "Footloose"
Chris Smither & Rick Cyge years later
Continue the Journey
If you enjoyed this story, here are a few places I'd love to take you next. I think you'll enjoy them.
🎵 Listen to "Footloose" on your favorite streaming service
📺 Watch a Few of my Performances showcasing other exciting singer/songwriters.
Or perhaps you'd like to read more...