051896rev.htm

Tragically Delicious

Canadians have a curious resentment with America Ð well, besides
Penguin-envy. Their biggest band, the Tragically Hip, hasn't caused the
same stir in the U.S.ofA. But those hipsters should be thankful that they
can come down here and catch the band in small clubs again. And they do.
With as fast as those crazy Canucks drive, they probably make the trip in
a heartbeat.

But so would anyone who knew what they were in for. On May 18, I took a
relative's car without permission or a driver's license and went to see
the band in Cleveland with the Ms. Pittsburgh talent queen who made me try
and climb a fence into the sold-out show. But we did get in.

Before that night I'd seen it all and now I've seen too much. After only a
few songs, my pupils were fully dilated and my fingertips were numb.
Frontman Gordon Downie is a maniac crooner who sings with his entire body.
He's a live wire with his finger jammed in a psychic outlet, trembling
like no one could touch him without being zapped. Still, your palms tingle
toward him.

The amperage behind him is the band. A bassist has to be really excellent
to draw a lot of attention Ð especially from Downie quivering like edible
road kill Ð but Gord Sinclair does. Bobby Baker and Paul Langlois play
guitars that dance up and down the spines of the songs. And Johnny Fay's
drumming is so startling, it makes your heart jump in your throat.

After ten years together, these high-school buddies form a solid ensemble
combining the seductive desperation and slap-stick abandon in the kinds of
blues your daddio of the radio, Pork the Torque Chedwick would spin, with
a totally groovy British vibration that ends up sounding like a killer mix
of everything ever played on the radio.

To get a feel for spirit in the music, imagine Jack Nicholson's character
in Easy Rider: a civil-right's attorney toasting D.H. Lawrence as he hits
his flask, first thing in the morning after being released from jail,
putting on a football helmet to ride motorcycles down to Mardi Gras with
Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda.

For people who know Easy Rider is supposed to be cool and therefore can't
like it because they are too cool to like what's cool, the name of the
band might be confusing. Would they really be unhip enough to come out and
say they think they're hip? Yeah, kinda. That's what makes it so gosh darn
funny.

The name came from a Michael Nesmith video, "Elephant Parts." They were
asking for contributions to benefit the Foundation for The Tragically Hip:
poor, afflicted people in need of Jacuzzis, Lamborghinis and cocaine (cue
laughter).
Check out their new release, Trouble at the Henhouse. You can hear it at
http//www.thehip.com.
Ð Kathy Jo Kramer