āYouāllĀ Figure it Outā
Itās August 21st and Iām sitting in my apartment in Halifax coming to terms with what feels like the closing of a chapter in my life. You know that feeling when youāve become emotionally invested in a TV series or a book and it comes to an end leaving this feeling of loss and a void in your life? Yea..Ā
The Tragically Hip had just performed whatās expected to be their final concert last night in Kingston. While this band has been around since before I was born, I still remember my first exposure to them hearingĀ āIn Viewā off of the 2006 album World Container on Much MusicĀ and, shortly after that,Ā āYer Not the Oceanā Little did I know how ingrained this band was in Canadiana and how important they would become to me and those around me.
Over the next ten years The Hip continued to impact my life and memories. This was a band I could get behind and support not only their music, but their message. This was Canadian music by the people, about the people, and for the people and these were songs that I had grown to cherish with friends, family and strangers. This was music that meant something different to everyone who listened and yet still managed to bring us all together.
Last night I was driving through pitch black rural Nova Scotia tuning in to CBC with the love of my life by my side making our way back to Hali. We blasted the radio the whole drive and made sure the trip would last the whole concert so as not to miss a moment (the folks behind me on the backroads were none to pleased at my lack of haste). Driving a good chunk of the way with only headlights and music and not another soul on the road I felt, along with thousands of other Canadians, like I was there, like I was part of it. I donāt think Iāve ever felt such an extreme juxtaposition of isolation and company. Pulling in to Halifax and realizingĀ āthey still havenāt played Ahead by a Century!ā (a song that means more to Breanne and I that I can put into words) we needed to extend the trip to catch the end of the show. We caught the final tune while driving a slow loop around Citadel Hill and taking in the view of one of the countryās great cities. And then silence.
That feeling kicked in. I got in to bed that night and tossed and turned and eventually fell into a restless slumber and now Iām here writing this aimless post in the hopes that it will bring to light why this has affected me so much and I think I partially know why. This transcends music. The end of The Hip marks the end of a three-decade journey that has brought us as a country together. In a country defined by multiculturalism this was no small feat. Listening to their music, I have never felt more Canadian despite not being born here. The Hip embodied strong work ethic, devotion to the integrity of their music, fans and message, and of course, grace (too!). ButĀ Downieās messages throughout the concert showed us that, yes, this is a great thing we share in this country, but there is still a lot to be done, particularly with relations to first nations peoples.
So with The Hip gone, who will take on this mantle of Voice of a Nation? While there are countless candidates in the years to come I believe the answer is nobody. There will never be another Hip... but there will be bands, artists, politicians, small business owners etc. that will carry on this message and mentality of acceptance and inclusion. We have progressed very far as a nation undoubtedly, but there is still a lot of ground to cover. But in the now infamous and bittersweet words of Gord Downie:
Ā āYouāll figure it out.ā














