I meant to post this eons ago. I have a new book out in three months, about a generation of musicians that came after the Tragically Hip. Today would have been Gord Downie's 58th birthday, so it's as good a time as any to finally get around to this.
Since the release of The Never-Ending Present in April 2018, I’ve been interviewed by many of the country’s best journalists, both on stage and off. But the deepest dives I got into were on the Hipbase forum, where the Tragically Hip’s geekiest fans grilled me with some insightful questions.
I’d been lurking on the site while researching the book; I wanted to read honest appraisals of my work and assess what fans thought about the book both before and after it was published. So in August 2018, four months after its release and after I’d done a round of Ontario touring, I popped up and told them to ask me anything.
Here is a slightly edited version of our exchanges. The full conversation can be found here. (Registration required to read.) Apologies for the use of abbreviations for album and book titles.
Sean Bonner asked: "Did any of your research involve
listening to any of the available audio/video bootlegs?"
I only listened to bootlegs of the
earliest years, because that's what I was most curious about—that was all new
to me, hearing them with [saxophonist] Davis Manning, hearing what covers they
were doing and how they did them. It was extremely enlightening: they sound
like a COMPLETELY different band than we hear on the EP. It's like Steve Jordan
says in the book: when you went to see the Hip, you DANCED. I don't think of
the Hip as we know them as a dance band, but they were absolutely an R&B
band in their infancy—and a great one, not unlike Van Morrison's Them. (I
always liked Them's big hits, but didn't dive deep into their whole discography
until a few years back.)
I was also grateful to hear the Chris Wardman demos for Up to Here; hearing that early version of "Three Pistols"
and realizing that, yes, I can see why it was cut from UTH and refined before
making it on to Road Apples. And
realizing that Don Smith likely did whip those songs into shape; he was more
than just a great recording engineer.
I've never been a big bootleg guy into the nuances of night-to-night
performances, so I don’t really listen to anything from the taper crowd—for the
Hip or for anyone else. I'm a big Rheos fans and love how different their shows
are night to night, but I prefer to experience that live and be surprised, not
to revisit it later. The never-ending present, and all that.
Dire Wolf asked: "Just curious,
was there a particular reason given for why they chose not to participate? Or
did they just send you a message saying ‘nope,’ and that was it?"
Here's the entire text of my email from manager Bernie Breen in April 2017,
when I told them I'd signed a book contract:
"Hi Michael, We have our own plans
for a book and we will not be able to assist nor endorse your project. Best,
B."
I decided to write the book anyway. I really wanted this book to exist, whether
I wrote it or someone else did.
I certainly didn't expect the band to be gung-ho; it was still an emotionally
sensitive time, to say the least, and I get that. I always knew it was likely
they would not participate.
As a fan who had never enjoyed ANY official documentation out of the Hip camp
until Long Time Running (the FC box
set was good, but flawed and the text was poorly edited; John Kendle's liner
notes in Hipeponymous are great,
though far too brief), I didn't actually trust them to put out a good book.
I decided to do the work: do the research, do the interviews, and then come
back to them and let them know I was serious and that this was an important
book, and see if they would reconsider and be of any assistance, however small.
(There were some key non-Hip interviews I wanted, but could not get.) I met
with Bernie and Patrick Sambrook in September 2017 and detailed exactly what
the book would look like, because it was never my intention to be sneaky about
this, and I know that this is a band with a tightly controlled narrative who
does not like to be surprised. Bernie and Patrick were very pleasant and
cordial, but restated that the band has decided not to participate, and so they
as the managers have to respect that decision. I did as well. I did not
approach any members of the Downie family or anyone on the Hip payroll. I knew
this would be their story told through the eyes of others: friends, peers,
producers, managers, opening acts—eyewitnesses, as well as a few other
observers for extra colour.
As you know, Rob has mused about writing his memoirs. That may or may not
happen. He's also clearly stated that he's not interested in writing a
chronological history of the band, or talking about their influences or their
influence on others. Those are all things that interest me. If and when he
writes a book—or if someone in the Downie family, or Billy Ray writes a book—it
will be very different than mine, and complementary. I wrote the macro book.
Someone in the camp will write the micro book. Both are essential parts of the
narrative. Personally, I'd love to see a book by Billy Ray with dozens of
photos from Richard Beland and David Bastedo. I would be first in line to buy
that.
There are more stories here, of course. I'll tell you those in person—maybe—if
I see you at a book event somewhere.
Dire Wolf also asked: "When did
you first begin the project? Was it just after Gord's diagnosis?"
I started doing those Maclean's
articles in July 2016, once the tour was under way. I didn't know what I was
going to write for the mag: a history of the band? a contextual piece? It ended
up being more of the latter. Before I even started writing it, I posted the
Q&As I had been doing: Steve Berlin, Sarah Harmer, Peter Garrett, John K.
Samson, etc. People seemed to love those. The Maclean's cover story was very well received. People told me I should
write a book. For personal reasons, I didn't really think about it until six
months later. In April 2017 I started researching. In August 2017 I started
writing. I handed in my first draft on Oct. 31, 2017: so that’s seven months
from inception to completion of the first draft. Spent a couple of months
making it better. Signed off on everything on Feb. 1, 2018. Book came out one
year to the day that I signed the contract and started researching (not
counting the Maclean's stuff).
Escape @Hand asked: "Just curious
as to the most interesting story/issue/random information that you came across
while researching the book? Anything surprise you about the band?"
As I said above, hearing those early bootlegs was amazing and revelatory.
The Coke Machine Glow chapter was a favourite of mine. I've always
loved that record so much, and I loved hearing the recording details from all
the key players (Josh Finlayson was the only one who declined to speak—and did
so very graciously, I might add).
I didn't know that much about the 2000s; I always listened to the new records,
but didn't pay a lot of attention or follow the band during that time. I only
saw them once b/w 2001-15, and that was in 2009. A lot of that information was
new to me: including the bit that one fan posted (not here, I think it was Hipfans.com) about Downie admitting that the songs on World Container were going to be a solo
record he was to make with Bob Rock, until Baker decided the Hip should do them
instead.
I also did an off-the-record interview with someone who worked closely with the
band during that decade. I said, "Here's my theory, just as a listener:
Downie puts out two solo records in 2001 and '03, and that's also when they
switch management. The band seems somewhat adrift and unsure in their musical
direction then; for me, personally, those are my two least favourite Hip
records. IVL is a softer record that tries to rock but doesn't really, and then
the pendulum swings back to rock on IBE, and then it sounds like they're trying
too hard [I realize there are thousands of IVL and IBE fans who will fight me.]
It sounds like there's a real musical split in the band between different camps
on those two records. Then there are two Bob Rock records, which to me seem
very Downie-driven: new emphasis on melody and singing, more musically diverse,
more pop than even the Berlin period. It doesn't seem like a coincidence that
he doesn't put out any solo records during this period. Then almost everybody
puts out solo records, and they come back together as a band on Plan A. Am I correct about any of
that?"
"That's pretty much it, yeah," said the source, who was in a position
to know.
I found that period to be perhaps the most fascinating: once you already are a successful
band, how do you maintain that? How do you keep yourself interested? How do you
keep your band together? How do you get people excited about your 12th album?
Being in my mid-40s, these questions resonated more than if I had written this
book as a younger person.
Four Pistols asks: "It seemed
like the band was starting to break in the States with Trouble at the Henhouse.
I remember MTV playing ‘Ahead by a Century.’ What could have the band or its
management done to break through completely at that time?"
I don't know that they could have done anything better. So much of breaking the
States is luck and timing. What the Hip needed was a national radio hit beyond
just a few regional ones, or some crazy gimmicky video that made people pay
attention. Or, as is argued in the book, they could have moved there for a year
and played the U.S. exclusively. But they didn't want to do that. 1996 was also
when three of them had their first kids; there were babies at home. The Hip
always wanted to play their own game—and because of their Cdn success, they had
the luxury of doing that.
Four Pistols asks: "Day for Night
has always struck me as their darkest album, in subject matter if not always in
sound. Which would you deem their darkest work?"
All their records are pretty dark, lyrically. Downie is not really a
sunshine-y guy. That's why I like him.
Musically, yes, of course, DFN and TATH are dark and sludgy.
Four Pistols asks: "Was there
ever any thought to a longer final tour? Did it ever include any U.S. dates?
Did it not include the U.S. for insurance reasons?"
I've only heard rumours that yes, if things went well, they didn't necessarily
consider Kingston the final show. I do know that the message from management to
all media outlets was not to refer to it as the final show (which of course
many did anyway).
When I was in Buffalo in April, someone told me the Hip had a hold on a venue
there for a date in the fall of 2016—after Kingston.
Kieffer asks: "Were there any
stories you really wanted to include but couldn't because of a lack of sources
or able to verify?"
Yes. (Ahem.)
There was also lots of very personal stuff people told me about the band
members and their families, which I did not include. I didn't feel it was my
business, or yours. I didn't bother verifying that stuff. They never put their
families in the spotlight; I respected that decision.
But in case you're wondering, the stuff I'm talking about is just entirely
human travails. Nothing criminal, nothing even douchebaggy. Just stuff that
every family goes through, that everyone getting old goes through or knows
someone who does.
Kieffer asks: "What did you find
most frustrating in writing this book?"
I was pretty positive that no one in the band (especially Downie, for
incredibly obvious reasons) would talk on the record. That was made clear from
the outset.
As I was finishing the book, though, other roadblocks started being thrown my
way, which were more than frustrating, right up to the week before it went to
the printer.
On an emotional level, the answer is obvious: I didn't know if my principal
subject would still be alive when it came out. (To be clear: that's not
something I'd define as "frustrating," if I'm answering your question
directly.) Many of my interviews that summer ended with both myself and the
other person in tears. I wanted the book to be something Downie would be proud
of, even though from what I know about him he was never happy with anything anyone else wrote about him.
The
emotional weight of the whole thing was a challenge, to say the least, and not
something I would expect to encounter with any other writing project for the
rest of my life.
Kieffer asks: "Were there any
topics you wish you could have went deeper into but couldn't due to a lack of information?"
I had a lot of trouble finding out information about Man Machine Poem, because the band did no press for it and nobody
who made it was willing to talk on the record. I love that album and really
wanted to get deeper into it. But Baker did do an interview with Sirius Radio,
and a couple of podcasts that year, and I did get one off-the-record chat (not
from the band) about the album.
I also really wanted to talk to Bob Rock about those years. I made repeated
requests, but never heard back.
And obviously, I'd have loved to talked to Don Smith—but he died in 2010.
Not being able to interview Breen and Sambrook is also a fault with the book.
Kieffer asks: "Beyond the band,
was there anyone you wish you could have spent more time interviewing?"
Of course. Many. Mostly people on the Hip payroll: Breen, Sambrook, Mark Vreeken,
Jon Erickson, Dave Powell [who died in December 2018], Tristin Chipman, Ricky
Wellington, Richard Beland, Bastedo, and obviously Billy Ray. But because the
Hip was not involved, this was not possible. I found Davis Manning and heard
back from him, which was... a weird exchange. In the end he just said,
"Ask Bernie, he'll know what to do." So I just left that alone.
Kieffer asks: "Finally, if you
were to write a sequel to this book what would you want it to focus on?"
This story is over.
The only thing left, as I said before, is for a book by Baker or Billy Ray or,
hopefully, a glimpse at what Downie himself was writing those last two years.
I also think a Jake Gold memoir would be very entertaining.
SpotTraxx asks: “It seemed to me 9/11 had an impact on the band’s concerts in border towns. IMO the attendance plummeted (at least around my hometown of Detroit/Toledo which used to command very large numbers...pre 9/11. For example The Hip had played The Palace, Cobo (x3) and packed Pine Knob (x4) and then ended up playing smaller theatres for the rest of their tours here … Did anyone reference this in interviews or do you have an opinion?
That's not something I was aware of. I didn't talk to a lot of fans for the
book, and I didn't talk to the band or current management; I didn't think to
bring this topic up with Jake Gold. My impression was that the Hip's trajectory
in America was always moving up, however incremental. I wasn't aware of any
setbacks in the 2000s, but you may well be right. You would certainly know more
about this than I would.
SpotTraxx also asks: "Any hints
on who the anonymous peer musician was who wrote the email [at the beginning of
chapter 13]?"
That was an email sent to me in confidence from someone who turned down my
request for an interview. It was entirely off-the-record. I included it because
it was brave enough to say what I've heard a lot of musicians and friends say
over the years. It doesn't matter who said it; it summed up a common sentiment,
and did so in an amusing way, which is why it's in there—and why I've only ever
revealed the identity to my spouse and to mutual friends I have with that
person who are their direct musical associates (i.e. members of their band).
I will say that I showed that quote to another mutual friend (not a musician),
someone who knows the person in question much better than I do, and said,
"Hey, can you tell who might have written this?" They had no idea.
That made me feel better about including it.
Needless to say, I find the speculation very amusing—and unnecessary.
Andrew Sharpe asked: "As a huge
fan were you disappointed that Rob was openly critical about the factual
accuracy ... especially his line about 'spit out my coffee?' "
Of course. It was pretty galling, after he refused a fact check. There are a
lot of catty things I could say here, but I won't.
I will say that I'm aware of only two factual errors in the book. One is about
the release date of a Willie Dunn record—can I assume Baker is a huge Dunn fan?
I am, and I'm embarrassed about this and I will correct it in future editions.
(Tangent: go listen to the 2016 compilation Native
North America, if you haven't already.)
The other is about the timeline of the Slinks' breakup, which is information I
got directly from a member of the Slinks: Joe Pater, on his blog. I’d contacted
him after reading his blog, and he said he didn’t really have anything more to
add. He then wrote to me after the book came out saying that another Slink,
Steve Holy, sent him a different Slinks timeline; Pater now realizes his
original one, which I quoted, is inaccurate.
I can't see Baker losing any coffee about any of those facts, so I honestly
don't know to what he's referring. I'd appreciate knowing. If anyone on here is
aware of anything factually wrong, I want to know. Someone mentioned something
about me misidentifying a bootleg.
[update,
February 2019: before the paperback edition went to press, I reached out again
to band management to correct any factual errors they might be aware of in the
book. They did not respond. I also reached out to personal friends of Downie
and others who might be in a position to correct anything in the book. Nothing.
I put out public calls on social media, several times, and only heard back
about two or three extremely trivial points—which I did correct in the new
edition.]
A funny thing is that after the book came out, Jake Gold told me Bruce
Dickinson's account of the Massey Hall/Horseshoe shows, where he signed the
band to MCA, is full of falsehoods and not nearly as dramatic as Dickinson
paints it (cancelled flights, etc.).
HOWEVER:
Jake said, "But I'm glad you printed Bruce's version. It's a much better
story." I found that hilarious.
I later told
Bruce that Jake disagreed with him, and Bruce stood by his story. Here are two
guys as close to the Hip's story as one can possibly be without being in the
band, and they don't remember the same events the same way. I'm pretty
sure that after 40 years of Willie Nelson and wine that the four surviving
members of the Hip would also have different versions of various stories. THIS
IS WHAT HISTORY IS. Every university history student takes a first-year course
called "Historical Methods," for which the story above would be a
textbook case.
FWIW both Jake and Bruce have said very flattering things about the book. As
have many other people in the story, including very close friends of Downie. I
don't doubt there are some who take issue with some stories, from whom I'm not
hearing (yet), but I think that was inevitable.
My guess is that Baker had no idea who I am (I'm certainly not suggesting that
he should have). Again, knowing that most of the band considered the Cdn music
media laughable (and not entirely without reason), I don't expect he would have
read HNBTS, though he's probably seen it on friends' shelves. And I was told
that nobody in the band read the Maclean's
pieces, or anything else anybody wrote during the summer of 2016. I don't blame
them. I wouldn't either in that circumstance.
And so Baker
is likely angry someone he didn't know wrote a book about him without his
permission. Making a statement like that gives him plausible deniability if there's
something in the book that makes him look bad. (Which: I don't know, is there?
I don't think so.)
Finally: that quickie e-book by Marc Shapiro, which came out in the summer of 2017, is, in a word, hideous. It is most definitely "laughably wrong." The fact that it was rushed out after the final tour is nothing but a cash grab, which he basically admits, and the work is beyond sloppy (despite the fact it quotes extensively from HNBTS). Knowing that book existed—by an American, no less!—was certainly a kick in the pants for me to write this book. The idea of fans buying that in the absence of anything else was galling. Unfortunately, I think it definitely coloured impressions of what I was doing, for those inside the Hip camp and for a certain group of fans.
A man known
only as Potsie had lots of excellent questions:
1. You briefly mention that Downie has
recorded a concept record about a train derailment with Bob Rock. Can you
expand upon this with any further details about the album? Do know who is in
charge of shepherding the unreleased Downie solo material?
That's literally all I know about it. Several people very close to Gord
confirmed its existence. It's quite old; not sure how old. Lac Megantic
happened in 2013; if it's remotely inspired by that, I'd guess it was made
between 2013-15. One friend told me, "It's just been sitting on [Gord's]
hard drive."
I don't know who's in charge, no. Management, I would guess, or the brothers.
I'm pretty sure the Hip have nothing to do with Gord's solo projects.
[2022 update: it's coming out soon, according to something Bob Rock told Strombo in a recent interview]
2. The book is subtitled ‘The Story of
Gord Downie and The Tragically Hip,’ for obvious reasons which you point out in
the preface. In the past the band has often projected an overly idealistic
outward image of a truly democratic band of brothers. Yet I’m wondering if in
talking to the band’s musical peers you ever got a sense that at any time in their
history (particularly the early to mid-2000s), this was a façade and that the
band were functionally operating as Gord Downie and The Tragically Hip when it
came to some of the creative decisions that were made? Do you feel that
Downie’s vote carried more weight than others? The two examples from your book
that lend credence to this idea are Downie strong-arming the band into going
with Bob Rock for producer of World Container and Downie vetoing the ‘rock’
mixes of NFPA.
Bingo. As I said earlier, that was my theory, and someone who worked closely on
the Hip's business end confirmed this. Another referred to those years as
"Gord Downie and the Kingston 4." Pure speculation here, but I think
the band knew that Gord was willing and able to leave the band if he wasn't
satisfied with the artistic direction—though, considering his deep love for his
bandmates, he didn't really want to. I see the entire decade of 2000-10 as a
series of compromises between the band members. Which is not at all unusual for
any band at that point in their career. I do think MMP, and to a lesser degree
NFPA, sounded more like genuine group efforts. Again: only my opinion.
3. There is a dearth of stories
regarding crazy antics or road tales from the band, the type of stories that
populate most rock biographies. Was your original intent to write a book that
focused more on the music and less on tales of debauchery or did this direction
present itself as the best way forward during the writing process? Do you feel
the appeal of the book, and hence the commercial prospects, is slightly
narrowed due to this?
There will never be a book about the Tragically Hip that reads like Motley
Crue's The Dirt (thank god). I think
I erred on the side of portraying them purely as nice, polite Cdn boys, but
that really is what most people will tell you about them.
Even if I had access to salacious stories, I don't think I would have printed
them. That's not who I am, and unless those stories were super interesting or
illuminating and essential to the narrative or unbelievably hilarious—or, of
course, criminal—then it's not really my business.
[update: One
of my interview subjects in 2017 told me, “Did anyone tell you about the bust
in Saskatoon?” “No!” I responded. “Okay, well, I’m not going to be the guy who
tells that story,” he said. I later found out what he was talking about. And a
Saskatoon radio host actually asked me about it on air in the fall of 2018. We
both danced around it in a weird, inside way that must have mystified most
listeners.]
Here’s another story, though: Two key biz figures in the book ran into each
other at some industry function shortly after I'd interviewed them. "You
talk to Barclay?" one asked the other. "Yep.” “You tell him
everything?" "Nope. Did you?" "Nope."
4. A couple of factual errors I noted
in the book: On p. 271 "Grace, Too ended the final encore of August 14,
2016, the second of three Toronto shows." Grace, Too actually closed out
the third show. The release date of DFN is also likely incorrect. You can’t be
faulted for that since your source was likely the Hip website, which has it
listed the same as your book. However, in discussion that took place among some
fans on here, it is strongly felt that the album was released on a Saturday,
most likely September 24th. This is an archived article from Billboard that
supports this claim.
You're probably right. I thought I fact-checked this. I was at the second show,
the one with the "I love you" moment. If you're correct, I was
probably conflating the two shows.
5. Regarding the email from the peer
who states “they are mostly terrible”… his (her?) beef also seems to be with
the fans (“challenge their shittier fans”); I would have loved to have seen
Gord’s response to this “unfocused hate.” You can’t hate fans! I'm less
interested in the breaking the anonymity of this person and more interested in
exactly why he feels the fans, and the band, to be terrible. Was this ever
elaborated upon or are we seeing the email in its entirety in the book?
That is pretty much the email in its entirety, yes. I trimmed a couple of
sentences for repetition.
As to why they feel the band is terrible, that's an entirely subjective
opinion. Again, not uncommon.
I know SO MANY PEOPLE in my life as well as fellow musicians who, since the beginning, have always felt the need to qualify their appreciation for the Hip by saying something along the lines of "Yeah, but, the fans..."
Part of this fan-hate is pure snobbery from people too refined to have ever
polished off a 2-4 of Molson Canadian with a couple of friends while watching
HNIC. These are the kinds of people for whom AC/DC is a "guilty pleasure"
(like me). These are mostly people (like me) with a university education,
and/or people who are drawn to low-self-esteem music (like me). These people
also tend to resist anything massively popular (unlike me), assuming that it
must have been dumbed down somehow to reach a wide audience.
But let's face it: Hip shows back in the day were rowdy affairs. Not everyone
there was a loogan, but that did describe a good chunk of the crowd. Someone
very close to me was sexually assaulted by a group of bros in the mosh pit in
the early '90s, which turned her off the band for at least 15 years. The Daniel
Lanois story haunted the Hip audience's rep among fellow musicians. Hip fans
can also be aggressively tribal: "What,
you don't like the Hip? And you call yourself Canadian?" That's a huge turnoff for potential new fans or the
mildly curious.
As to Gord's response to all this, I think he made it pretty clear here:
http://www.hipmuseum.com/nextus.html
6. I believe it was you (in Have Not
Been the Same) that first pointed out that "She Didn't Know" and
"When the Weight Comes Down" were written by Paul Langlois. In your
current book, when discussing the decision to credit all songs to the Hip, you
state "This was a lot to swallow for Gord Sinclair, who had written
two-thirds of the songs at that point, both music and lyrics." I would
like to challenge you on that "two-thirds" comment and hope that you
can clarify. We know that Sinclair wrote 5 on the EP, meaning that 7-8 were his
songs on UTH if we are to take the "2/3" comment at face-value. This
doesn't work out. Even if we credit him for "I'll Believe",
"Boots", "Everytime", and "Another Midnight",
that gives him 9/19, less than 50%. Do you have any further insight on UTH
lyrics authorship?
My memory is muddy, what's this river that I'm in? On this subject, I know as
much as you do, and likely less. I based the 2/3 ratio on the EP. The Langlois
theory was [Have Not Been the Same
co-author] Jason Schneider's; I'm not sure where he got that from back then,
but Jake Gold agreed with it. Gold couldn't remember, however, which on UTH
were Sinclair’s; he posited that perhaps "Boots or Hearts" was one.
Only someone inside the band could answer this question directly. Believe me,
this was certainly a question on my fact-checking document I submitted.
7. Can you comment on the decision to
create chapters that could be read independently? In my opinion this disrupts
the flow of the book and in particular dampens the excitement of the early
chapters by serving to take the reader out of the story. By choosing to
organize the book in this manner you've created more of a 'reference' book than
a 'story' book. I have almost no qualms about the material that was covered in
those interspersed chapters (except the cover bands... worth touching upon, but
too long!), and they all read well, but did you at any point consider trying to
incorporate this material into the story, or potentially move it to the end of
the book?
Certainly a valid opinion, and one I've heard before. No, I never considered a
structure other than the one I settled on. I thought those tangents would be
far too distracting in the middle of the narrative, and I found it more
effective to talk about, say, hockey by talking about all the hockey songs at
once and talking about Downie's personal connection to the game. Likewise:
stopping every chapter to talk about the opening band on that tour would not
work; it reads much better with those bands talking about their communal
experiences all in one spot.
The end of the book is naturally dramatic; I didn't want to follow it up with a
bunch of extended appendices.
I know a lot of people hate the cover-band chapter. I love it (except the part about me, which I lobbied to remove; my spouse and my editor wanted it in). I recognize that as the first thematic chapter, it stops the flow of the book cold. But there's no other place to put it. It would be even more jarring at the end of the book. I think no matter what the first thematic chapter was going to be, it would elicit the same reaction. I placed it where I did because after talking about the Hip's origin as a cover band, it was interesting to explore how and why they inspired so many cover bands of their own, perhaps the only Canadian act to ever do so.
As I say on the very first page: it's very easy to read every second chapter of
the book if you want to stick to the narrative. For non-Hip fans who read the
book, many have told me that they often skipped through the narrative chapters
and focused in on the thematic ones. To each their own. I think part of the
reason the book has been so successful is that it appeals to both audiences.
As for the cover-band chapter being too long: at 13 pages, it's one of the four
shortest chapters.
8. The discussion of the impact of
videos and MuchMusic on the band's popularity is lacking. Videos, and some of
the creative ideas around them (through interviews with the directors) would
have also made for a good independent chapter. Is this something you didn't
give much thought to or did you view it as an idea not worth spending time on?
I stopped watching videos when I left high school in 1990, so that's a personal
thing: I don't care about videos, then or now (unless they're by Bjork and/or
Michel Gondry). Having watched all of the Hip's in the last year, I also think
they made exceptionally shitty videos until Phantom
Power. (And a few shitty ones after that, too, of course.) I love "My
Music at Work." "In a World Possessed" is pretty good. And
actually, "Blow at High Dough" is pretty awesome for its low-budget
kitschiness, which is exactly what they were trying to achieve (and I do talk
about that in the book). But aside from my personal thoughts about the medium
itself, I also think videos are hard to write about in an interesting way, and
they're not remotely important to the larger narrative, unless you're talking
about a game-changing act like Madonna or Michael Jackson. If the Hip had a
video hit that launched them in the U.S., that would be a different story.
Schaggs asked: "Do you happen
to know what Steven Drake is doing now? He seemed to pivot from the Odds to the
engineer/producer role, and I haven't seen him credited on anything in a really
long time. I'm either missing it, or it's 'nothing.'"
He's still making music and producing. Nothing particularly high-profile, from
what I can recall. He's an incredibly talented guy, and was easily one of my
favourite interviews in the book. He's an odd one (no pun intended), and for
sure, others have told me he's difficult to work with, a mad genius type who's
burned some bridges. I got the impression he's still in touch with Johnny, and
they played in Stellar Band of Neighbours together, along with Kevin Kane
(Grapes of Wrath), with whom Drake made a record.
Re: videos. I'll walk back on another: I think "Grace, Too" is
amazing, and so deliciously weird. I can't believe it was ever played on
MuchMusic, and I mean that in a good way. I don't mean to downplay MM's
influence on the band's popularity; MM was a bigger driver of hits than radio
was in the '80s and '90s, IMO. Personally, I didn't find it that interesting to
talk about, though I considered it. I did mention the importance of the Misty
Moon show; I knew people who clung to their bootlegged copies of that.
In my Downie interview for HNBTS, I asked him about videos. He didn't have much
to say (also I'm sure my question wasn't clearly defined). He seemed more
interested in MM's ability to draw attention to causes like WarChild. He liked
Denise Donlon. He liked Sook-Yin Lee. But he didn't have much to say about his
band's videos.
Potsie says: "1. There is an
interesting comment (on p. 234) from an unidentified Hip producer about the
unnecessary complexity of Gord’s lyrics. He implies that there was an ‘arrogance’
to the idea that Gord could write what he wanted, presumably without any great
thought given to how it would be received by the audience. You don’t identify
the source of the comment; was this intentional? It feels like it might have
come from Steve Berlin. Given that the Music at Work album, out of all the
albums in the catalogue, suffers most under the weight of esoteric lyrics
leading to underdeveloped melodies, it would fit. Can you identify the
producer?"
Of course it was intentional! If I wanted you to know who said it, I would have
ID'ed them. This was something someone told me off the record, so I didn't put
their name beside the quote. I will say this, though: things that Berlin said
in that chapter contradict the tenor of the quote we're talking about. So, no,
it's not Berlin.
2. The Toronto Music Awards in
November 1988 is a seminal moment in the band’s career. You describe the
unusual performance of the two songs that convinced Bruce Dickinson to sign the
band, yet you don’t mention what the two songs were. I’m interested in what the
band felt were their two best songs to make a statement with at that point in
their career. Do you know which two they played?
Wish I did, but I don't. I should have asked Jake or Bruce this. They would
know (or maybe they'd disagree!). Maybe it's in that 2016 National Post
interview with Bruce, can't recall.
3. Not a question, more of a comment…
the discussion of Downie’s social awkwardness (on p. 266) is bang on: the gears
always turning, the lack of linear thought, the search for a tangential
expression, always one step ahead in the conversation. As you point out, this
is often evident in interviews. I’ve rarely seen an interview with Downie where
I would consider the conversation free-flowing and relaxed. His mind is always
searching and he gives the appearance that it is all very unnatural. One of his
great contradictions is that he appeared to be more comfortable talking to
15,000 people than he did to one person.
This is based on my own interactions with him as well, over the years. Even his
emails were like that.
Edgoffin asks: "Question #1, when
do you think it started to become more of a business for the band? (I will add,
I don't think they ever lost touch with that original creative spark)"
In a way, it probably was almost from the very beginning—because it was the
principal source of income for everybody in the band. I don't know if they ever
held a job after the band started getting busy around 1985. Certainly not after
1986 when they signed with Gold & Gregg. So I'd say at least 1986. But
here's a difference b/w the Hip and almost every other band: they knew it was a
business, and they were smart about it. They were as invested in all business
decisions as much as they were creative decisions. I don't think there was a
divide there. A lot of other musicians would prefer not to think about the biz
side, which leads to trouble.
Question #2: What interview were you
most surprised to be granted?
The fact that I got to Chris Tsangarides through a simple Facebook message, and
that he responded so quickly and enthusiastically, was a pleasant surprise.
(I'm also a huge Concrete Blonde fan.) Hugh Padgham took a bit of digging, but
not that much, really. Talking to him was a real thrill: the man made "In
the Air Tonight!" And Peter Gabriel's third album! And Synchronicity, and Kate Bush, and, and,
and...
Both those Brits were perfect gentlemen, and so lovely to talk to. (And in the case of Tsangarides, incredibly timely, right before tragedy struck—he died six months later.)
Peter Garrett was also a thrill. I saw Midnight Oil at the Concert Hall in
Toronto the month that Diesel and Dust
came out in 1988, and that was a life-changing show. Still in my top 5 of all
time. He was relatively easy to find because he'd retired from politics, and
had put out a solo record that year and a memoir, and was touring in Australia,
so he had an active publicist.
Of course there were many Canadian heroes of mine that I talked to as well for
this book, but I wouldn't say I was surprised to get those interviews. Those
people are much more accessible.
