’Life happened’
Canadian party rock icon Kim Mitchell finds inner peace
“I’m not afraid of dying,” Kim Mitchell informs me midway through our phone conversation.
It’s not the kind of confession I was expecting from Canada’s party rock icon, who built his reputation parading around in a Groucho nose and glasses, making armpit farts and releasing bold musical declarations like “I Am A Wild Party.”
But things have changed in the nine years since we last spoke, including a 2016 heart attack that — as he eases back into fighting form — has given the 66-year-old rock veteran a new appreciation for the simpler things.
“Your perspective changes,” he tells me, sounding like a Zen Buddha. “You do literally go outside and notice more beautiful stuff. I’m a lucky guy.”
Aargh. This won’t do at all. He’s too serene. Too content.
What happened to the gleefully rebellious Kim Mitchell who regaled me with stories of being hauled into the principal’s office in high school to be lectured about the length of his hair?
The Sarnia native laughs: “When I had hair was like three or four decades ago,” he notes, bald as a cue ball since the Mulroney era.
“It’s like we think of Princess Diana in our mind’s eye — she’s still the woman that was.
“My image is a brand. People hang onto that. And then people don’t see me for two decades and say ‘Jesus Christ, what happened?’”
He laughs again. “Life happened.” Ultimately, he points out, it doesn’t matter.
Once he rips into the opening chords of “Rock N’ Roll Duty” or “Patio Lanterns” — a bona fide Canadian classic — it’s a time portal back to the ‘80s and early ‘90s.
“The music does that for me,” he notes, humble as ever. “The audience just lights up.”
He’s a smart guy, despite dropping out of school in Grade 11 after his principal’s failed attempt at a pep talk.
He knows there is a time and a place for everything.
In this time and place, looking back at a four decade career that includes a ‘70s stint with art rockers Max Webster, it’s less about breaking new ground than celebrating songs that have meant so much to so many fans over the years.
“I don’t play new stuff,” concedes the genial legend, easily the nicest guy in Canadian rock.
“It’s nostalgia stuff — Max Webster and my solo career. I’m not going to go and say ‘Hey, here’s some s—t I’m writing!’ It’s not good customer service.”
It would also be out of step with his regular-schlub-in-a-ball-cap image.
“I always felt like with any one of my audience members I could leap in their pickup truck or go in their backyard and have a beer,” concedes Mitchell, one of few rock icons not obsessed with his legacy.
“I’m not Bryan Adams or Celine Dion or Tom Cochrane. I’m Kim Mitchell. I raised a couple of kids, paid off a couple of mortgages and done well as a Canadian rock guitar player.”
There’s more to it, of course.
At the height of his fame as a hitmaking solo artist in the brash, bold ‘80s, the Juno-winning maverick was the hoser king of Canadian rock, a MuchMusic mainstay whose quirky videos for songs like “Go For Soda” and “Rockland Wonderland” endeared him to a generation of fistpumping hoseheads.
An 11-year gig as a Q107 radio host introduced him to a new audience, but having been shown the door three years ago during a corporate restructuring, he’s happy to be back on stage, doing what he does best.
“I remember my junior high school principal telling my parents ‘I think we should keep Kim in Grade 8 one more year,’” he recalls, reverting to comical form when I press for a career-defining anecdote.
“I don’t think he’s mature enough to go to high school.’”
He laughs. “I remember him saying ‘What do you want to do?’ and I said ‘arts and sciences’ and he said ‘you’re not half as smart as your sister! ... (incredulous pause) ... that’s what he said!”
Nevermind. Academia’s loss was rock and roll’s gain and Mitchell — who began playing professionally while still in his teens — has no regrets.
“I never was the guy to say ‘I told you so!’” he notes when I broach the subject of revenge. “Sometimes you have to find out for yourself.”
He laughs. “Follow your passion. That’s the message.”