06-03-2016, 11:57 AM
I put the two Tragically Hip videos from Saturday Night Live March 25 1995 up on Facebook 2 days ago after re syncing the audio figuring maybe 10 of my friends would like it - in 48h they have collectively been viewed over 600 000 times - this is what one guy who shared it wrote and I thought it was really great.
It's hard to quantify the importance of what The Tragically Hip mean to me and so many of my fellow Canadians. For the last 25 years they've been there, out there always being Canadian even while singing stories about Americans. Kinda like Gordon Lightfoot but without the international appeal. And I think it's partially in that lack of recognition many of us see ourselves in the hip. I love their music. I have sat down many an unimpressed date and mate around this world and pushed an album side upon them. And so few of them have liked it. Gord's crackly voice, relentless guitar and compelling ironic stories about anything but love never were able to win the hearts of my American, British and European friends. And in this universal rejection I wonder if the cement of my love for the hip was formed. As a Canadian, we have always been accused of being America lite, polite but basically the same. Sure we loved hockey, but when's the last time a Canadian team even won the Stanley Cup. But the Hip never got traded to Nashville. They for all intents and purposes were written off the day they arrived in the US. Many accuse Brian Adams manager of having them blackballed because he hated them, but it had to be more than that. Because endless Canadian stars pushed and pushed and met with that same open eyed dull state from their American friends, and the implied message... 'What's so great about this?' Dan Ackroyd and Lorne Michael's two proud Canadians, got The Hip this appearance on SNL, a huge event for most bands, often career changing. Dan came in to announce them himself, and a nation couldn't care less. That's the incredible magic of this band in a way. They are our secret language, our cultural code, the password into the club of Canada. Whenever they played in London or LA I'd go and watch them in a room of basically Canadians. A country that has very few heroes, and poppies, the hip was allowed to flourish due to the very rejection they received on a global platform. Their songs filled with humorous and ironic stories asking deep questions and painted in everyday hues of ordinary people's nuances was not the bombastic lyrical anthems of the US trying to lift a commercial music industries doldrums. It was a musical equivalent of a great interesting friend who you had to know to get it. I've always somewhere in my heart wanted them to blow up around the world. I remember dragging a bunch of friends down to Trafalgar Square a couple years ago to watch them on Canada Day with that anticipation that this time... This time, they'll click. But as the second song started and they asked if I wanted anything at the bar, yet again I felt that isolation. The same isolation when I'm asked what it means to be Canadian. How do I explain? We tended to like people that don't praise themselves, ideas and art that are rallied behind a near reluctant artist who we think is great while they cope with and are riddled with self doubt. We're the country that loves the one legged runner that didn't make it, but never let his hope die. We love the band with the crackly voiced lead singer, who never made it anywhere but here. And god damn it feels good that we saw the beauty they all missed, and for this lone reason we are so lucky to be Canadian. - Pete Johansson
It's hard to quantify the importance of what The Tragically Hip mean to me and so many of my fellow Canadians. For the last 25 years they've been there, out there always being Canadian even while singing stories about Americans. Kinda like Gordon Lightfoot but without the international appeal. And I think it's partially in that lack of recognition many of us see ourselves in the hip. I love their music. I have sat down many an unimpressed date and mate around this world and pushed an album side upon them. And so few of them have liked it. Gord's crackly voice, relentless guitar and compelling ironic stories about anything but love never were able to win the hearts of my American, British and European friends. And in this universal rejection I wonder if the cement of my love for the hip was formed. As a Canadian, we have always been accused of being America lite, polite but basically the same. Sure we loved hockey, but when's the last time a Canadian team even won the Stanley Cup. But the Hip never got traded to Nashville. They for all intents and purposes were written off the day they arrived in the US. Many accuse Brian Adams manager of having them blackballed because he hated them, but it had to be more than that. Because endless Canadian stars pushed and pushed and met with that same open eyed dull state from their American friends, and the implied message... 'What's so great about this?' Dan Ackroyd and Lorne Michael's two proud Canadians, got The Hip this appearance on SNL, a huge event for most bands, often career changing. Dan came in to announce them himself, and a nation couldn't care less. That's the incredible magic of this band in a way. They are our secret language, our cultural code, the password into the club of Canada. Whenever they played in London or LA I'd go and watch them in a room of basically Canadians. A country that has very few heroes, and poppies, the hip was allowed to flourish due to the very rejection they received on a global platform. Their songs filled with humorous and ironic stories asking deep questions and painted in everyday hues of ordinary people's nuances was not the bombastic lyrical anthems of the US trying to lift a commercial music industries doldrums. It was a musical equivalent of a great interesting friend who you had to know to get it. I've always somewhere in my heart wanted them to blow up around the world. I remember dragging a bunch of friends down to Trafalgar Square a couple years ago to watch them on Canada Day with that anticipation that this time... This time, they'll click. But as the second song started and they asked if I wanted anything at the bar, yet again I felt that isolation. The same isolation when I'm asked what it means to be Canadian. How do I explain? We tended to like people that don't praise themselves, ideas and art that are rallied behind a near reluctant artist who we think is great while they cope with and are riddled with self doubt. We're the country that loves the one legged runner that didn't make it, but never let his hope die. We love the band with the crackly voiced lead singer, who never made it anywhere but here. And god damn it feels good that we saw the beauty they all missed, and for this lone reason we are so lucky to be Canadian. - Pete Johansson
