Notable Hip-related moments in Dave’s life #1:

In March of 1994 I was fourteen years old, and a sophomore in high school. My favorite bands were Rush, Pearl Jam, R.E.M., and uh…Rush. I spent the majority of Saturday nights home alone because, well, I was only fourteen, and it would still be a year and nine months before I first scored (sad, I know). On this particular Saturday night, SNL was being hosted by Dan Akroyd, and was still reasonably funny. The musical guest was The Tragically Hip. Were Counting Crows unavailable? I stayed up to watch because I was intrigued at the concept of a no-name band (State-side anyway) performing on a television show notorious for stiff performances from predominantly mainstream acts.

So Akroyd introduces these guys, and they careen into what I later found out was perennial live favorite “Grace, Too,” the lead-off track to the record (Day For Night) that they were promoting at the time, and eventually the source of my high school year book quote (the chorus, if you’re wondering). The first words out of frontman Gordon Downie’s mouth were, “He said I’m Tragically Hip!” Huh? These hosers make their debut on American television by shouting their own name? That’s sooooo hip-hop. Turns out that Downie replaced the phrase ‘fabulously rich’ with his band’s name because he spaced on the lyrics from nervousness, but it remains to this day the single most inspired performance that I’ve seen on SNL; like somebody forgot to tell the Hip that the only reason any band goes on that show is to promote your album by mailing it in. I fell asleep before the ensuing performance of “Nautical Disaster,” but I purchased Day For Night later that week.

Notable Hip-related moments in Dave’s life #2 :

July 1998. I was vacationing with the family in Quebec during the same week that Phantom Power is set to be released to the Canuck masses. This predictably coincides with tons of Hip coverage on Canadian MTV-alike MuchMusic, including a live Hip show, constant repeat clips of the video for then-single “Poets”, and myriad interviews with the band. Not being able to see utterly fascinating foreign videos from the likes of The Tea Party, Matthew Good Band and Philosopher Kings in the States, my sister and I tuned into MuchMusic whenever we happened to be in the hotel room. The Hip coverage was suffocating to the point that after being subjected to the umpteenth Gordon Downie interview, my father proclaimed, “I just don’t get it. Canada treats this band like the Beatles, when it’s obvious that the guy can’t sing for shit.” Ouch.

Notable Hip-related moments in Dave’s life #3:

My first ever Hip show was in October of 1998, at the uber-creepy Birch Hill Nightclub in Old Bridge, New Jersey (see my Fire Theft review for a thorough expose on the place). I managed to buy a ticket at the door, but I’m guessing that the throngs of Canadians who drove upwards of 15 hours (it was a Saturday show) to a scary dive bar in New Jersey had purchased their tickets far in advance. The band’s performance was fine, but equally amusing was the audience, trying to upstage each other with tales of the long distances traveled, while moshing and singing loudly enough to convert the gig into karaoke night with the Hip, as is the case with practically every American Tragically Hip show on the East Coast. It was a display of Canadian nationalism the likes of which I’d never seen.

The review most CMG readers were expecting:

You don’t need to be Canadian to enjoy the Tragically Hip. Knowledge of their origin however goes a long way towards explaining why they haven’t made a semblance of a commercial dent in the U.S. I can’t fathom how they fill up concert halls not within a 10-hour drive of the border, and even before the advent of the Clear Channel-era, American radio play was an impossibility. But their records always get released in the U.S. on the same day as in their home country, so somebody must be buying them. Yer Favourites was released stateside about a month ago, with zero fanfare or publicity to speak of, just your basic 37-track career-retrospective. I found my copy unassumingly nestled next to a Patti Smith reissue in the “Staff Picks” shelf at the Virgin Megastore on 14th Street.

And every last one of those songs is fantastic; down to the two new bait tracks which open and close the compilation. Because while the Tragically Hip may approach Dave Matthews-like levels of popularity in their native land (not to mention a similar looking, ball cap clad, fanbase), unlike the latter, they’re actually good. Really good. The tracks on Yer Favourites were handpicked from votes of over 150,000 Hip fans, and unlike most of the record companies who hastily slap these deals together; the fans were not unfamiliar with the group's back catalogue.

But what exactly does The Hip sound like? I’d label their sound as straight up, tough "arena-rock" buoyed by an uncharacteristically intelligent frontman in the guise of one Gordon Downie. For convenience’s sake, let’s label them late ‘60s Stones fronted by a mid-‘80s Michael Stipe, or a less blatantly eco-minded version of Aussie rockers Midnight Oil. This sound has changed little over the course of their three decade existence. The earlier material is marked by crappier production and a long since vanished twang to Downie’s vocals that made him sound like a bit of a hick. But clearly this is a band who never released their Kid A; their sound has always been grounded in twin-guitar interplay and Downie’s spastic vocals, and it bears noting that they’ve never suffered a line up change.

Despite the lack of variation over their career, the key to The Hip’s longevity is grounded in rock solid songwriting. Successive records alter the sonic script just enough (revolving door of producers, keyboards, etc.) to keep things interesting, and the importance of Downie’s lyrical contributions can’t possibly be stressed enough. The man never succumbs to cliché, and is seemingly incapable of running out of ideas. Cherry-picking his best bits would require another sixteen paragraphs, but the opening verse to “Fireworks” bears quoting in full:

If there’s a goal that everyone remembers, it was back in ‘ol ‘72 / We all squeezed the stick and we all pulled the trigger and all I remember is sitting beside you / You said you didn’t give a fuck about hockey and I never saw someone say that before/ You held my hand and we walked home the long way/ You were loosening my grip on Bobby Orr.

Similar brilliance is readily available in “At the 100th Meridian” (“Get Ry Cooder to sing my eulogy!”), “It’s a Good Life If You Don’t Weaken” and “Courage,” but those are simply personal favorites, and there’s really no let up in lyrical quality to be found anywhere. Downie’s really that good.

So for the uninitiated, Yer Favourites is an embarrassment of riches; an unflinching career overview from a band worthy of such adoration, and bereft of the "contractual obligation" feel of most hastily assembled hits compilations. But where’s the motivation to purchase Yer Favourites if you already own each of The Hip’s albums, outside of a convenient method to have the goods in one place?

A good a reason as any is the re-mastering job afforded these songs. It’s not as noticeable in the songs from Phantom Power (1998) on, but if ever was a series of albums in need of a good scrub job, it’s the first three offerings from the Tragically Hip. The original CD pressings of Up To Here (1989) and Road Apples (1991) are notoriously thin sounding, suffering from that late ‘80s/early ‘90s malaise that requires you to jack up the stereo at least fifteen decibels higher than you would otherwise. The remastering job fixes this, in addition to making the acoustic numbers sound uncommonly good. Hip fans don’t question that “Fiddler’s Green” and “Wheat Kings” are fantastic songs, but they’ve never sounded as crisp as they do here; and the acoustic interplay between Bobby Baker and Paul Langois is far more intricate than most will have remembered (the guitar separation between headphones is especially acute). As for the two new tracks, “No Threat” and “The New Maybe” would have sounded fine on the recent In Between Evolution, but with a compilation of this size, they’re hardly the focus.

I’d have swapped “Highway Girl” and “Scared” for “Emperor Penguin” and “Pigeon Camera,” but there’s very little to gripe about here. I’d heartily recommend the Tragically Hip to anyone desiring that most old-school of entities; a solid, honest to goodness rock band that came of age in an era pre-dating the internet hype machine, earning their rabid following through endless touring and quality releases. The release of Yer Favourites isn’t exactly going to improve the Hip’s commercial standing in land masses other than The Great White North, but it still deserves to be heard by a far wider audience than has been standard for their other releases. The quality of their back catalogue is simply too good to be ignored. It’s high time that the rest of North America began to take notice.