With ‘In Between Evolution,’ the Tragically Hip Struck a Hopeful Pose Once More

Though a staple in their homeland of Canada, the Tragically Hip was still largely unknown in the U.S., two decades into their career. In Between Evolution seemed to be a concerted effort to break through in the states. Unfortunately, as with most such efforts, it suffers from a few flaws.

Minor as they may be, it was unfortunate to see a band struggling to get attention. Explaining that the Tragically Hip deserve the attention should be unnecessary. Still, as with all things truly good, it generally misses the attention of the public at large who seem to need things more watered down and generalized.

The problem with In Between Evolution, which arrived on June 29, 2004, was that it sounded like two separate pieces, in a way – a short section of “different” material (for the Tragically Hip, at least) followed up by a too-short album of more traditional material.



They kicked off in high gear with the raw, almost-punk energy of “Heaven Is a Better Place Today,” as their late singer Gord Downie strained to reach the upper echelons of his vocal range. In some respects, it was as if the Tragically Hip made a conscious effort to resurrect a bit of the hard-rock sound they shed after their first couple of albums Up To Here and Road Apples – but with mixed results. It’s not as if those first three songs were bad songs; they just seemed to lack some of the heart this band poured into their music.

There was an odd transition between “Gus the Polar Bear From Central Park” and “Vaccination Scar” that illustrates the change that happened in the band between the classic Day For Night and the follow-up Trouble at the Henhouse – as they went from a rock band with thoughtful lyrics to a thoughtful band that happens to rock. Between tracks three and four, the tempos changed, the attitude changed, the song structures changed, and that was a good thing.

I don’t think I would have gotten that much out of an entire album filled with so many out-and-out rockers, to be honest. What I’d come to love with the Tragically Hip was their ability to straddle folk-rock and hard rock, favoring just slightly the folk-side of things due to Downie’s intriguing, oft-humorous, but always thoughtful lyrics.

Maybe the blame was with producer Adam Kasper, then known for his work on the Foo Fighters’ most recent albums – both of which possessed a decidedly harder edge than their predecessors. Throughout In Between Evolution, the guitars were turned up loud, panned hard left and right – drowning out Gord Downie’s voice, which floats right down the center of the soundstage. I found myself straining often to make out what Gord was singing, and that’s a shame with lyrics as impressive as his always were.

This was likely a purposeful effect to play down the band’s true signature, Downie’s trademark tuneful, choked warbling. It was no secret that the Tragically Hip had struggled to take off in America, while enjoying massive success in their homeland. Where the Tragically Hip were basically Canada’s answer to Pearl Jam, in the States they had barely made a dent in the market. The band frequently sold out arenas at home, but it was nothing unusual to find them playing small clubs stateside.

When I play the Tragically Hip for the uninitiated, it’s always been Gord Downie’s soft barkings that draw the most comments. “You get used to it,” I say frequently, but I don’t believe it. I’ve always enjoyed Gord’s voice and have never understood how it turns people off. What is there to “get used to”?

Gord’s slightly nasal delivery was no less characteristic than Michael Stipe’s, yet it somehow managed to stand out just enough to throw off newcomers. Perhaps it’s because it’s unfamiliar and unusual. When it comes to the unfamiliar and unusual, it appears that U.S. listeners are most hesitant. American audiences need their rock verified. Who knows – maybe we got burned on too much meaningless, throwaway rock that the labels have shoveled out for so long?

All I can say is that before most Americans can commit to something, we need to know the music is good by seeing it endorsing commercials, backing action sequences and love scenes in movies, or hawked at the end of meaningless teen dramas. Without that, sorry guys, we just can’t determine if it’s any good. But we have no problem streaming hours of pop pablum. Parting with our hard-earned cash, however, for something that might be different sounding? No way; we’re not having it.

Thankfully, the identity issues evident early on in the album were erased with multiple listens, as In Between Evolution eventually found its own groove and pacing. I probably won’t ever be able to hear it as a single, solid piece, but upon inspection, I can’t find a better place for the three oddballs on the album than right up front: Get ’em out of the way so they don’t throw off a good flow later on. Placing them at the end would blow the emotional closer, another Tragically Hip trademark.

Regardless of whether it’s an up-tempo or down-tempo number, the Tragically Hip always managed to end on a note of beauty with a track that left you wanting more. “Goodnight Josephine” was no different. An upbeat ballad of sorts to a young girl lost, as far as I can tell, in the distractions of teenage life, dating, and maybe abuse, “Goodnight Josephine” somehow managed to beat the odds its subject matter might impose on other bands to actually wind up sounding hopeful.

And that’s the thing that really kept the Tragically Hip from making it in the U.S. There’s nary a song in their catalog about suffering, hurting others, drowning sorrows – and if you haven’t been paying attention to what sells today, that’s sure-fire hit material. If the American music-buying public can’t openly sulk to their purchases, it has no place in their collections.

Gord Downie, on the other hand, wrote not out of a need to heal his own scars, but in hopes of getting everyone else to see the good that’s out there. Unfortunately, it’s hard to place happy, thoughtful songs in movies with lots of explosions and over-emotive teens. We just can’t get enough of that crap.


Tom Johnson

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