Music, place, and space
The last four Hip albums have been, for the most part, very closely related to geographic locations for me.
In Violet Light will forever remind me of South Korea, where I was teaching (I use the term loosely) English when the album came out. More specifically, it will remind of me riding the bus there, listening to the Gord’s vocal flexings on the MP3 player I bought at some sketchy market in a suburb of Seoul. And of visiting my sister and brother-in-law in Japan, and discussing the album over a thoughtful pint or two.
In Between Evolution came out just as I was heading over to Sudan (again, to visit my sister and brother-in-law). The track “Summer’s Killing Us” seemed especially appropriate, given the unbelievable heat there. It was the first time I have smelled heat. While we were there, listening to the album as we worked, we talked about where we might be when the next album came out, and wondered if each new Hip album would also be accompanied by a change in our location.
World Container was the first Hip album (or full album of any sort, for that matter) that I bought on iTunes, while living and working in Mississauga, Ontario. Geographically, it wasn’t as exciting a place for a Canadian to be as Seoul or Khartoum, but it carries its own share of memories as well. It also taught me that, when it comes to really good albums by really good bands, I still prefer to have a physical disc that I can carry from computer to stereo to car for the first couple of weeks, while we get acquainted. After that, I rip it to my library and listen to it amongst the rest of my music.
And now, We Are The Same has come out, and here we are in New York. As an added bonus, I’ll also be seeing the Hip at their show in New York in May.
This is probably the only band that has such close ties to memories I have of places I’ve been, and I wonder if, in a few years, this album will remind me of New York the way the previous albums have connected me to the places I was when I first heard them.
photo credit: radiobread
“What the heck?! Tell us about it! — This guy knows everything!”
And at a pub on Esplanade, it becomes part of our vernacular.
What I really meant to say was:
This is a fantastic post. Thanks for these musings on recent albums from the world’s greatest band. It is very interesting that this is a band that we connect to geography before we do to age. I remember having a conversation with some friends about U2, listing our all-time favourite U2 album — War for JP, Joshua Tree for Skipper, Achtung Baby for myself, and Zooropa for Dave — it was purely a generational thing where the youngest preferred the more recent. But it isn’t that way with the Hip — we don’t automatically prefer the album we associate with our high school years. I like the idea that their sound is linked to geography before time.
It’s true, lyrics from Hip songs tend to filter into our day-to-day conversations; but then, memorable moments from conversations we’ve had with friends about the Hip do as well. It’s a rare band that can connect with our lives so completely.
I hadn’t thought about the dynamic of time, but you’re right: the Hip is much less about chronology than it is about location. For example, I just got the “Phantom Power” CD, and in listening to it I don’t hear the Hip from a decade ago; I just hear the Hip.