The difference between David Byrne and Gord Downie (an appreciation thread)
Back in the 70s, the posse I ran with turned me on to all kinds of magnificent music...Prog Rock, especially King Crimson, Yes, and Genesis, for starters. But one specific friend opened the door to all of the oddballs...Television, Durocs, Root Boy Slim, and...Talking Heads. "Psycho Killer" was being played to death on FM radio, but the song that got my interest was their take on "Take Me To The River." I was a big Eno fan, initially via Roxy Music and his work with Robert Fripp. I thought that what he'd done with the Talking Heads was inspiring, but especially "River." They took what was Al Green's song about purification and redemption in the wake of a love gone sideways and turned it into a slow-burn midnight exorcism. This, I felt, was genius, and like a lot of people, I followed the band after that.
Fast-forward to somewhere around a decade ago. I have no idea where or when I first heard "Grace Too" by The Tragically Hip, but it hit me the same way that "River" hit me. "Holy CRAP," I thought...who IS this guy?
"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII....come from DOWN TOWN, born ready for you
Armed with skill and its frustration, and grace, too..."
I thought "It's Lou Reed's anger channeled through David Byrne! It's...NEW."
In 2016, there are people who will ask you "Who's Gord Downie?"
But me? I'm one of the many who was shocked and saddened when I learned of his illness, but also moved and inspired when he and the band decided that they are going to go out on one final tour...for Gord, and for the fans.
So what is the difference between David and Gord?
David would never harm a hair on your head, might offer you some juice and cookies while showing you his collection of puppets from Madagascar, while playing you his latest mix of world music.
Gord would hand you a beer, and while you weren't paying attention, there'd be a 50-50 chance he might bite you. All in good fun, of course, and you'd be looking at the teeth marks on your arm but couldn't get too pissed at him because of his unrepentant "Just a goof, eh?" grin.
He's what is commonly referred to as a "magnificent bastard," one of those people Kerouac said "burns, burns, burns, like fabulous Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars."
Please join me in celebrating the life, the art, the skill and its frustration of Gord Downie. Keep on rockin' in the free world, Gord. I don't want to write a eulogy when his time comes. I want to celebrate him right here, and right now, while he is still with us.
