Music joins us together
Rock ’n’ roll, you’ve come a long way. From the scandalous, hip-gyrating origins, who would have thought a celebrated Canadian act would be the much-anticipated, prime-time TV event of the country this past Saturday night?
“The Tragically Hip: a National Celebration,” was broadcast live by the CBC. Plenty of music lovers tuned in at home, but it also turned into a national party, with a number of cities across the country having organized viewings on giant screens in public locations for the concert feel.
In Yarmouth, people gathered at the Mariners Centre to watch the concert, while also raising money for the Gilles Boudreau and Friends Cancer Help Fund. In Digby, they watched on a big screen at the arena, raising money for the curling club and Jumpstart.
The event carried with it, of course, a sombre note in that it was the last show expected from this solid act following the announcement this year that front man Gord Downie has terminal brain cancer. The band organized this “Man Machine Poem” tour soon afterward, and the televised event was the final show. It took place in the Hip’s hometown of Kingston, Ont.
This is a band that has been widely recognized as quintessentially Canadian, with song subjects ranging from old-time hockey heroes, to historical portraits, odes about pristine locations in the country or the massive, maddening lapses of the justice system. Downie’s lyrics, probing, intelligent and poetic, have been a trademark.
The band itself is typically regarded as a lineup of musicians’ musicians. Other groups in Canada can tell stories of having the daunting privilege of opening for the Hip, and the grand opportunity of introducing themselves to some of the most hardcore and loyal music fans in the country.
It’s been noted, somewhat wryly, that this giant among acts in Canada didn’t quite strike a similar chord in the U.S. That in itself can be taken as some indication that this country carries its own special peculiarity, typically playing in a different key.
The story behind Saturday’s presentation is telling. Tickets sold out in minutes (with scalpers across the country pulling their usual stunt) so a lot of diehard fans were disappointed. The arrangement to do this show came as a way to ensure everyone got a seat in the house. It was a one-time broadcast, no repeats planned. Although, expect the DVRs to be whirring to serve posterity.
Granted, not everyone is a music fan, but many are, and this was the kind of event that brought Canadians together. Canadian athletes, at another event that has united Canadians, were even watching from the Olympics in Rio.
Thank you to the Tragically Hip for this, and for all the years of brilliant music.
All the best to you and our deepest regards for Gord Downie in a challenging time.
It surely, surely was hard to keep up with the Wright boys, but we tried!
One of them would announce the morning’s destination—the school yard, the blacksmith’s shop—and the herd would set off at a gallop. Over the gravel roads we’d race, until we younger ones were gasping with the effort of keeping the older ones in sight. We’d arrive at the swings, only to see the big boys disappear into the short cut. I never caught my breath, and a stitch would clutch my side, but still I kept on. As did we all. We didn’t dare go to watch the blacksmith on my own but the gruff old fellow didn’t seem to mind the Wright boys.
Jumping from a great height was another way we challenged each other. When we had conquered the apple tree, someone dared us to test the Snow’s clothesline tower. Screwing up my cour-