We all know our inevitable demise sits on the precipice of the future. But it is a strange slow agony to know a relit ice timeline to death.
They opened with Little Bones. Thankfully I’ve seen them before so my other large ‘must see live’ of theirs, I’ve seen. But I was super honoured by being able to hear their new songs live as well.
World Possesd By the Human Mind was in my mind after the show even tho it was played about half way through. They played Ocean Next which I was surprised by because it’s not a single, but I suppose it’s been determined it will be, and it was my favourite off the new album, and they killed it live.
I think I (and everyone else) cried about six times. I’ve never cried that many times, or looked around to see so many people crying at a rock concert. Everyone’s hearts were a little broken as we saw Gord and his band mates rock out for all of us despite his terminal prognosis. He was a little weaker, thinner and less the crazy man he was, less pouncing around, but he was still the strange guy he always was, larger than life and a terrific performer.
At the third row, it was pretty amazing look eye to eye with someone, to convey gratitude and wish strength to a band that gave us songs that are so ‘Canadian.’ That have the texture of prairie hostility and ocean angst that lies under our surface, that we battle during the long dark of winter and that we collapse into in certain moments just to let that odd placidity of acceptance, rise and surface.
There probably won’t be a concert I see that will have the same sentimental value and as my husband and I swayed, arms wrapped around each other to Long Time Running, we thought about all the things that have us running in this life, death being the most inspiring thing to run from, and how our family faces this same cancerous nemesis that Gordie does, and sometimes you have to stop running, turn, and face these foreboding realities face on, letting the acceptance rise above the battle, to the terrifyingly calm surface.