I remember getting up and singing with them at Mile One arena in St. John's. It was such an honour that they asked me, but all I could think of was, "But I'm such a fan!" Later I sang on one of their records, that was awesome.

My friend worked at a record store in Burlington and I really liked R.E.M. and a lot of music, but I didn't go to see much. I was 16, so I wasn't in bars unless I knew the band and could get in.

As with any music that one feels quite close to, I'm very critical, too. I care a lot. I pay a lot of attention.

Despite everything that is going on our climate and injustice in our country, we can't forget to come together celebrate the number of times the Tragically Hip helped bring us together and have our hearts moved. That is us honouring the life force, whatever that is. Celebrating is a duty.

Music is amazing, because you get to take it into your office or your living room or wherever you get to know it, and later you bring all those personal connections into a room with thousands and thousands of people.

Ah come on, these streams of light are not so subtle. All along the ditch, signs of life in sinking puddles!

Maybe I'm not giving people in the audience enough credit for actually thinking about what they're singing, but it's awesome when a rock'n'roll groove and melody can transport something from Barometer Rising or whatever [ed: it's from 1958's The Watch That Ends the Night] into [Toronto's] Molson Ampitheatre and have people just owning it.