Toad The Wet Sprocket "Walk On The Ocean"

This week's posts are written by Scott Lajoie, editor of Cape Cod Magazine. In creating a publication that reflects the look and feel of the region, Scott is particularly attuned to the stories, sights and general nostalgia of summer. So I asked him to write about some of the songs that have touched him personally over the years, particularly the ones that connect to iconic memories or feelings of Cape Cod.

In our current issue of Cape Cod Magazine, we asked 21 notable people for their five favorite memories through the five senses. Kevin Youkilis, John Kerry, Tim Daley, NPR’s Michele Norris and the Bachelorette’s Chris Lambton were some of many who made some thoughtful and creative contributions to our challenge. I was amazed at how many people said their favorite site was that of the Sagamore or Bourne Bridge, the two iconic symbols of arriving at Cape Cod. To them, it must signify the beginning of a great time, far away from one’s troubles and stresses of everyday life. It makes me think of that feeling you get when you first catch a glimpse of something that you know is going to be remarkable.

I was never a Toad the Wet Sprocket fan when they were at their peak in the early Nineties, but I always thought they had a unique sound. When I finally burned a bunch of their songs years ago, I started to appreciate them more. Great acoustic guitars rhythms. A lead singer with a distinctly melodic voice. Lyrics you could have some fun analyzing. That opening verse of their hit “Walk on the Water,” makes me think of that anticipation:

We spotted the ocean
At the head of the trail
Where are we going?
So far away.
And somebody told me
That this is the place
Where everything’s better
Everything’s safe.

They barrel into the chorus, with an accordion accompaniment that even sounds okay to someone (me) who doesn’t particularly care for the accordion in contemporary rock music. But then it all starts to fall apart for the subject of the song. The weekend/vacation/summer is over, and you must return your ho-hum life in some polluted city somewhere. The final verse of the song sums it up quite succinctly:

Now we're back at the homestead
Where the air makes you choke
And people don't know you
And trust is a joke.
We don't even have pictures
Just memories to hold
That grow sweeter each season
As we slowly grow old

It slows to a stop and the song, like the escape, is over. We permanent residents on the Cape and Islands don’t get this feeling anymore. But we relate to your pain. And we gather on Route 6 on Labor Day afternoon to wave good-bye. If you come back, great. We’d love to have you. But even if you don’t return, you’ll have those memories “that grow sweeter each season.”


See the music video on Youtube.


Hear the full song, but not music video.