Album Review: My Home By The Sea by Eddie LeGere
If you’re a fan of folk music that feels like a warm hug on a chilly day, Eddie LeGere’s My Home By The Sea might just be your next obsession. Released in 1968 on Arc Records (shoutout to Canada for this gem!), this album is packed with heartfelt storytelling and melodies that stick to your soul like maple syrup on pancakes. Produced by Ben Weatherby, it’s got that raw, unpolished charm that makes folk music so dang special.
Now, let me tell ya about two tracks that really stood out to me. First up, “Ghost Of Bras D’or.” This one’s a haunting little number that paints a picture of Maritime life so vividly, you’ll swear you can smell the salty sea air while listening. It’s not flashy or overdone—just simple guitar work and Eddie’s voice weaving this tale that feels both personal and timeless. I found myself humming it for days after my first listen. There’s something about the way he captures the spirit of the land and its history that hits different, ya know?
Then there’s “Our Little Home By The Sea,” which is basically the heart of the whole album. The title track feels like sitting by a crackling fire with someone who gets it—someone who knows what it means to love a place deeply. The lyrics are sweet without being sappy, and the melody has this gentle sway to it, like waves lapping at the shore. Honestly, it made me miss a home I’ve never even had. Weird, right? But that’s the magic of good songwriting—it takes you somewhere else entirely.
The rest of the album doesn’t disappoint either. Tracks like “Wildwood Flower” and “Mariner’s Lament” keep things grounded in tradition, while tunes like “Bluenose Hillbilly” add a playful twist. And let’s not forget “Letter Edged In Black,” which leans into that classic country-folk vibe we all secretly love.
What strikes me most about My Home By The Sea is how genuine it feels. You can tell Eddie put his whole self into these songs—not trying to impress anyone, just sharing stories that matter to him. It’s the kind of album that reminds you why folk music exists in the first place: to connect people through shared experiences and emotions.
So, here’s the unexpected part—I listened to this album during a road trip through Nova Scotia last summer, and holy smokes, did it make everything around me feel cinematic. Like, I was driving past fields and fishing boats, but suddenly they looked like scenes from a movie. Maybe that’s the power of great music, or maybe I just need more coffee before hitting the road. Either way, give this album a spin if you want something real, relatable, and oh-so-Canadian.
