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.

My drummer right now, who was also the first drummer in Weeping Tile, Jon McCann, told me that [Hip drummer] Johnny Fay took drum lessons from [McCann's] dad, who taught a lot of the drummers in Kingston. He said that when he was in Grade 9, the Hip were the model; the goal was to get an agent and gig as much as possible.

I was just thinking of Rush. I went to see Rush a few years ago, because my record label guy in the States really wanted to go. We had crazy good seats. It was fascinating watching the crowd - mostly men - who were so moved by these really esoteric lyrics. I don't know Neil Peart's lyrics super well, but they're not that straightforward to me.

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.

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.

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.

Because I'm a musician aspiring to write good stuff and put on good shows, I'm hyperaware of what they're doing and what they're putting out. But listening now in a less critical way, I'm appreciating and admiring it even more.