Downie the man gifts quiet, potent legacy
Last solo album Introduce Yerself, reveals a man we’ve known all our lives, and just meeting anew
Even the biggest lives are defined by their smallest moments.
That’s easy to forget at a time like this. In the aftermath of Gord Downie’s death last week, tributes have understandably focused on his career, deeds and legacy. The albums and anthems. The accolades and awards. The activism and advocacy. And, of course, the indelible mark the singer and his Tragically Hip bandmates left on Canada and Canadians. We needn’t detail his resumé, but suffice to say: When your passing sparks a national week of mourning and reduces virtually every adult male south of the prime minister to a teary mess, you’ve done something right.
Of course, that was the public Downie. The private man was another story. And he’s the one we encounter on Introduce Yerself, the singer and poet’s sixth and final solo album due Oct. 27.
Primarily written and recorded on the fly and off the cuff at the Hip’s own Bathouse Studio in January 2016, weeks after his fateful brain-cancer diagnosis, the sprawling 23-song album — in keeping with both its title and its creator’s freewheeling style — is something of a walking contradiction. It is epic in length but modest in execution. Quiet yet powerful. Stark but rich. Nostalgic but alive. Sweet without being maudlin. Rewardingly personal but universally appealing. And most importantly: Although it was created by a man facing his own mortality, it is an album that fearlessly and joyously celebrates life.
Just not the glorious life of a revered Canadian rock icon. What flashed before Gord’s eyes on those wintry days of self-reflection were not highlight reels of fame and glory, triumph or even tragedy. They were quieter, intimate slices of everyday life. Like rocking one of his kids to sleep. Taking a snowy walk as a child. BB-gunning tin cans in the backyard while sporting a bathing suit. Mooning over his first girlfriend. Getting perfume-scented letters. Falling in love to the music of Spoon. Using his beloved Bruins as a lifelong conversation starter. Or simply staring at the soothing surface of Lake Ontario, as he did while handwriting many of these lyrics.
All the songs, Downie has said, were inspired by important figures in his life. A couple could be about his bandmates. Another sounds like it’s about a pet. A few might make you cry. Others will make you laugh. Nearly all are equally compelling. And thanks to their author’s poetic stream of consciousness, off-kilter flow and confessional vocals — not to mention his innate ability to convey the fleeting, fragmentary nature of memory — most are vague enough to protect the innocent (or the guilty), and create a drifting, dreamlike quality.
The music complements his words like … well, a dream. Predominantly penned, played and produced by Broken Social Scene frontman and frequent recent collaborator Kevin Drew, these indie-rockers and artsy ballads are often bare-bones constructs: Simple piano lines, muted acoustic guitar, basic rhythms, noisy synths, warm ambience. It’s just enough to get the job done with no fat or fuss. Production is quick and dirty, with reverb giving Downie’s meandering warble a soaring, otherworldly lift. Everything conveys a sense of first-thought immediacy, freewheeling creativity — one song features the sound of hockey sticks thwacking a driveway.
But mostly, the tracks don’t sound composed and created so much as conjured and captured. Coupled with Downie’s idiosyncratic entries, the sum is less a musical album than a photo album of random snaps, subtly refurbished and arrayed as a homemade present not only to their subjects but to all.
Make no mistake, though: Introduce Yerself is more than a farewell present from Downie the musician. It’s a parting gift from Downie the man. The man who was a father, a son, a husband, a friend, a hockey fan. A man like us. A man you’ve known all your life, but are still meeting anew. Just in time to miss him more than you already do.