Discovery
Bay

I've had so many homes,
that I'm homesick my friend.
I have tasted saltwater,
from every land's end.

The balustrades point,
to the place I should be,
as I stand on the bridge,
and give orders to me.

And I always obey,
though my heart wants to stay,
I wind up pulling rank on my crew.
It's a one man vessel,
my body, my home,
I hear the masts creak,
and the sails start to moan.

And Discovery Bay
seems a lifetime away,
though the breeze seems to say,
I'll be headed there one day.

I've no way to know,
what the weather will be,
and so far I have come,
the horizon slips
just as far backward from me.

Lyric from Discovery Bay
Music & Lyrics
composed by Patrick Logier

Permission Kindly Granted
By The Family of Patrick Logier
© 2003 All Rights Reserved

A Celebration of
Pat Logier
1956-1996
His Music and Words

Friday
September 9, 2005
Renaissance Cafe
1938 Danforth Avenue
Toronto, Ontario, Canada

His melodies were also articulate and very beautiful, intricate and labyrinthine but with a perfect internal logic which always worked itself out. He had studied a certain amount of classical piano and could write music almost as fast as words. At this time his voice was still wearing a loud Bob Dylan influence, hoarse and abrasive, but it gave him the confidence to start singing. In a few years he settled into a husky velvet sound which was much easier listening to.

Patrick Logier was a talented Canadian musician, working primarily within the Folk genre. Pat's music is evocative, his lyrics poetry. A prolific songwriter, his music reached the public through live performance. By the time he was twenty, Roger Whittaker had recorded one of his songs. While many of Pat's friends enjoy tapes of his performances and studio recordings, those recordings remain the treasured possessions of a few individuals.

I first met Pat in 1987, at a backyard BBQ. He wore the same hat you see in the picture above. He introduced himself by asking me my age. I felt it was an odd topic of conversation, and would discover later that odd questions were part of Pat's quixotic charm. Our brief conversation ended as my three-year-old daughter clamored onto my lap to eat her hot dog.

Later in the day, Pat and I bumped into each other in the kitchen. We conducted an awkward conversation about a Toronto Star columnist whom he admired, and I did not. We were both intrigued by our differences.

Like shooting stars, conversations tracked across the evening. I wandered about, taking in the highlights, and enjoying the company. Someone had put an audiotape in the machine in the living room. I stopped moving, mesmerized. Conversations faded into the background. Who had created this music? It was Pat.

The BBQ stretched into the evening and through the night. As dawn rose and the sun caught the windows across the street, Pat and I sat, still talking. Our friendship and attachment began that morning and remained strong until Pat's untimely death in 1996.

As wonderful as Pat's music is, his personality is what I appreciate and remember most about him. As time passed, I discovered that Pat's quck wit, and sense of whimsy, delighted many people. He loved his friends, and was a keen observer of human foibles. His bright enthusiasm, and his spirit, remain an inspiration.