Thank you all for your kind words.
Here we go!
Sean Bonner asked: "Just curious, 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 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'll admit I've never been a huge Stones fan, but after hearing Them, the Stones really do sound like amateurs to me. I realize those are fighting words.)
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 didn't really listen to much of anything else 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 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 in September 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: "Also, 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. 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.
Like Moof Milker says (thanks for coming to Lindsay, BTW), 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.
