A Canadian’s Reflection On A Band, It’s Legacy and A Cultural Moment That Unified A Nation.
It’s been ten years since we said goodbye to Gord Downie and The Tragically Hip at their legendary final show in Kingston, Ontario on August 20th, 2016.
That night was iconic, emotional, and beautiful. It was joyful and triumphant, yet sad and bittersweet. It was real and raw and it is remembered as one of the most historic cultural events in modern Canadian history.
Recently, the CBC played the entire concert uncut to celebrate the tenth anniversary.
I sat and watched and reflected.
I am not ashamed to admit that I cried when Gordie, in his shiny top hat, flanked by the boys (Rob Baker, Johnny Fay, Paul Langlois and Gord Sinclair) stood proud and took their final bow.
I am but one of many Canadians who has a profoundly deep connection with Canada’s band.
As much as I claim a personal connection to those chords, those lyrics, that voice. They feel like my band. The reality is that The Tragically Hip have a personal connection with millions of people across the country.
We all feel it and it goes deep into who we are as Canadians.
Many of us have stories about ‘that time we saw The Hip live.’
Some people have stories about intimate experiences.
Some people were part of a massive crowd in an arena somewhere.
Some people were lucky enough to go to the final tour and say goodbye in person.
Some people boast about the fact that they saw The Hip a hundred times.
There is a generation of Canadians who were able to catch Gordie and the boys in their early days, at Lulu’s, at the Horseshoe Tavern, or even in the very early days in Kingston at the Clark Hall Pub at the Queens University campus.
That generation will tell you all about how those were the good ol’ days.
The Tragically Hip’s music is part of the fabric of our nation. The lyrics reveal layers of the Canadian experience.
From ‘that night in Toronto’ to the Wheat Kings in the Paris of the prairies, to “the goal that everyone remembers” ( it was back in ol’ 72).
The songs and stories are ingrained in us, a fixture in Canadian life.. On the radio, around the campfire, in our hearts.
The groove of Grace, Too. Gordie’s soulful lament in Fiddler’s Green. The light-hearted opening chords of Ahead By A Century.
We don’t just listen to The Hip. We feel The Hip.
They are our band.
Tragically Hip Live: 3 Nights I Will Never Forget
February 6, 2007
The first time I saw The Tragically Hip live was in 2007 at Copps Coliseum in Hamilton.
Until that point, I had been a casual fan.
I knew the songs, I loved a few of them. I’d worn out a copy of Fully Completely.
I was only 19 and my brother, next to me was 17. Neither of us realized how life-changing this night was going to be for us. We were way up in the nosebleeds, beer slopping all over us, people around us passing around doobies. The lights went down and we were just excited to be there.
They started with their current single The Lonely End Of The Rink, I recognized its echoing guitar riff as it rang through the smokey, low lit arena. Suddenly, lights and drums and a roaring crowd burst at once and I was locked in.
Next they rolled into New Orleans Is Sinking. Then came FullyCompletely. The classics just kept coming. As each new song started I was reminded how much I loved that song too. And the next one, and the next one.
We sang along with the crowd to the radio choruses.
We watched in awe as this magnetic frontman swayed and spun around the stage, always playing with his microphone stand and a white handkerchief.
With these accessories, he danced through the show, almost as if he was lost in his own trance and we were all welcome observers. He took us on a journey with him, song after song.
Each song that poured out felt like an old friend.
I didn’t realize I even knew so many Hip songs. I couldn’t believe how much each one seemed to light me up with some sort of nostalgia I didn’t know was there.
They had just been in the air my whole life.
This concert is what unlocked The Tragically Hip for me, sparking a lifelong love for a band who would go on to solidify themselves and Canada’s greatest of all time.
Fun Fact: Just recently I discovered this full concert was released “From The Vault” and is available on Spotify! Very cool to have this experience at my fingertips to relive any time I want.
October 2nd, 2009
I’m driving to work in the morning, listening to Y108, (Ben & Kerry) when they announce they have two tickets to that nights Tragically Hip show at Hamilton Place. I don’t care if I was on the highway, I whipped out my flip phone and called and called and called.
The challenge: Name 5 Hip songs with a number in the title. I kept calling while I thought of my answer (700 Foot Ceiling, Three Pistols, Hundredth Meridian…). People kept calling and couldn’t get past one or two songs.
I knew I had it if I could just get through. (Fifty Mission Cap…) People continuously getting through and failing.
Suddenly my phone started ringing as I thought of the fifth song (Ahead By A Century? No….). It rang and rang, when suddenly, I got it (38 Years Old!).
At the same moment as I’m shuffling the songs through my brain, I can hear Ben’s voice on the other end, but almost like an echo. I realized I was on mute and next up.
“Hey there, seems like this is a tough question, let’s change it up.” He says to the caller on the line.
What? I couldn’t believe it I just had the answer!
The caller stumbled as Ben asked him to “Name all 5 members of the Tragically Hip.”
I listened as he struggled “Uhhh, Gord…something…Downie! And uh… three other guys.” I thought about it as Ben thanked him for playing. I knew Rob Baker, and there was another Gord…
The sound of the connection became crystal clear and I was live on the air, disappointed as I couldn’t think of the answer.
“Hello there, ok, let’s try: Name 5 Hip albums.” Ben said to what probably was his 27th caller (me.) Yes! I can do that!
“Day For Night, Fully Completely, World Container…” I can hear Ben (“Yeah, Yeah, Yes.”) He sounded relieved that this might finally be over.
“Uh, Road Apples… and uhhh… Trouble At The Henhouse.”
“CONGRATULATIONS! You have won yourself two tickets to see The Tragically Hip tonight at Hamilton Place!”
I couldn’t believe it! I never win anything and this was a prize among prizes.
I was put through to reception to arrange pickup of the tickets at the front desk of the station, called my brother and told him to cancel his plans and at 8 o’clock that night we were sitting third row, centre as the boys took the stage.
It was surreal that these icons were taking their places as we cheered and applauded and pumped our fists in the air barely twenty feet from them. Thank you Y108.
We knew this was going to be a great night, but there was no way we could have anticipated exactly how great.
This was a smaller, classier, much more intimate experience than the last time. Partially because of the venue, partially because of the smaller crowd, but mostly because we were front and centre.
By the time the music started pouring out, we were already up and out of our seats. The energy was electric.
Once again, Gordie took us with a wave of his fingers and a flick of his white handkerchief and carried us into an other-worldly experience.
He danced, we danced.
It wasn’t exactly clear if he was following the band or if they were following him, but there was no denying Gord was at the centre of everyone’s attention.
At halftime, they went out for an intermission and came back in dress clothes, pulled out the stools and acoustic guitars, and led the second set with an acoustic version of Courage (For Hugh Maclennan). The set carried on with a beautiful arrangement of acoustic numbers before a big finale with Blow At High Dough.
The entire show had been transcendent but the encore left a mark on me that I’ll cherish forever.
They boys came back out. I didn’t know the song, but that moment, I will remember forever.
Gordie, laced in sweat and lost in his own vibe, jumped down off the stage. As he sang he raised one hand to the crowd and parted us like he was Moses and we were the Red Sea.
Framed by the lights of the stage, he waded into the crowd, as if sifting through a busy market.
He walked right between my brother and I and as he did, he paused, smiled, and gently put his hand on my shoulder before using it as support to climb past the seats, moving deeper into the crowd, drifting hrough a sea of adoring fans.
It was a soft, simple, (sweaty) gesture. He didn’t have to, he could have passed by, but that was just Gord. He gave me a moment with him that I won’t forget.
Yes, he was wild. He was eccentric. He went out of his way to be dramatic and eye-catching and deeply profound in his art. He was also an incredibly humble, gracious man who loved people.
He made his way through the crowd, smiling and waving, giving high fives and back slaps as he sang out his song and headed back to the stage to close the show out with a sharp rendition of Little Bones.
My brother and I were incredulous when we left Hamilton Place that night. We both woke up that morning thinking it was gonna just be an average friday.
One game-winning phone call changed that.
We still talk about it. It was one of the greatest experiences of our lives.
August 16, 2016
I can remember the day we all got the worst news. I was (again) driving to work and listening to Y108 and Ben broke the news to all of us early one morning: Gord Downie had been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer.
It was a gut punch, a slap in the face, a surreal announcement.
To everyone’s amazement and admiration, Gord faced this final challenge with courage, and grace, too and soon they announced that the band would be doing one final tour across the country to say goodbye.
Gord was going to do it Gord’s way and he had the undying support from his family, his brothers in the band, and his fans across the country.
I knew I had to go. I knew it was going to cost a fortune. I didn’t care. It’s just money.
My brother wasn’t able to make this one, but my Dad was all in. He had never seen them before and really wanted to get this chance. I found a pair of tickets for $650 for the Hamilton show at the FirstOntario Centre (formerly Copps Coliseum, where I had first seen The Hip in 2007.)
The place was packed, our seats were great. Upper bowl, full view of the stage. The crowd was vibrant. There was an emotional edge to the atmosphere. Everyone had their own connection with the band, but we were all there for the same reason: we all knew this was goodbye. It was also a celebration of the man, the band, the music and I am so grateful I was able to be there.
Under fixed spotlights, the band emerged, the boys taking up their instruments and Gordie, in his silver jumpsuit and feathered top hat welcomed the cheers of the crowd.
The opening chords of At the Hundredth Meridian rang out. I noticed immediately how tight the band was together on stage. They were only about 5 feet apart from one another.
They seemed better than ever. Gord’s voice was strong and confident and he nailed the breakdown (…lower me slowly, and sadly, and properly. Get Ry Cooder to sing my eulogy!)
And with that line, all the emotions were on the table.
Next, they jumped into Courage (For Hugh MacLennan) and it only amplified the admiration for Gord that filled the room.
When they came out with Eldorado next, I jumped a bit. It’s one of my favourites and its kind of a hidden gem. Next for the rock radio folks, they went into the classic Fifty Mission Cap and the whole crowd sand along.
I realized all four songs had been off the same album.
Next, they played their current single In A World Possessed By The Human Mind, they followed it up with three more from their current album Man Machine Poem, which hadn’t left my turntable in a month.
They took a short break, an interlude video up on the screen of a wild thunderstorm kept us entranced while Gordie and the boys caught their breath. “This is awesome!” Dad shouted in my ear.
The band came back out, Gordie had changed from one eccentric outfit to another, his pants now a glittering purple, along with a purple top hat with a white long sleeve T shirt.
They broke into that classic echoing guitar of The Lonely End Of The Rink. Immediately, I was brought me back to 2007 when I sat just across the bowl and first realized my love for the band. They followed it up with three more from World Container before moving into Day For Night.
After a monstrous singalong with Grace, Too, the band settled into a song that would, for me, become one of my most lasting memories of any concert ever.
The spotlight hit Paul Langlois as he strummed us into the soft acoustic opening of Scared.
Everyone in the crowd turned on their phone lights, the old timers lit their lighters and we all settled in and as Gord crooned through it.
One line stopped my heart for a second… “I gotta go….” Gord belted out with a sudden pause that arrested the entire crowd.
He waved as he looked around the arena before singing out “…it’s been a pleasure doing business with youuuu…” which he sang out in a slow, beautiful farewell that I will never be able to forget.
That was the moment I cried for Gord.
I have no idea how the boys in the band were able to keep it together emotionally for this, but they just softly played as Gordie had his moment of farewell.
I still get choked up when I think about it.
This was the moment that felt like goodbye.
But they were not even close to being done.
They finished out the set with four bangers from Phantom Power. They notably left out Bobcaygeon (I guess they saved that one for the Toronto show), but they did play my favourite song from the album, a title which has become a life mantra for me: Escape Is At Hand For The Travellin’ Man.
After a short break, they came back with a roaring encore.
Gord now in a full purple leather jumpsuit with a matching top hat. Three songs off Trouble At The Henhouse, of course, finishing with an earth-shattering sing-along with Ahead By A Century.
To a storm of applause, they once more left the stage. We all sat cheering. The lights hadn’t gone up yet. They weren’t done. They kept us on the edge of our seats as we cried out for one more. We weren’t disappointed.
One last time, they came out with a final show of force.
One acoustic number to make us all cry once more (Fiddlers Green) and one to rock us and leave us feeling a wild energy (Twist My Arm).
The whole building jumped when the opening to the final song rang out,
We danced, we sang, we cried.
The Final Tragically Hip Show
On the night of August 20th, 2016, the whole country gathered around our TVs for the final show. It was one of those cultural moments where we all remember where we were and who we were with when we gathered around and tuned in for the big farewell.
The show itself was in a relatively small venue, but the K-Rock Arena in the boys’ hometown in Kingston was packed. 6,700 people, including Justin Trudeau, the sitting Prime Minister, piled into their seats while the streets outside the arena were packed. 25,000 people filled the streets of Kingston, watching and listening to the broadcast live in the Market Square.
11 Million of us watched live on CBC. The crowds, the cheers, the cries, the support for Gord and the boys.
We all tuned in for the final farewell.
We were having a cultural moment that connected us coast to coast to coast.
Together, we said goodbye to our band.
