What do you say about seeing the Melvins live ? What summarizes the event adequately ? I think perhaps the most accurate description lies between sweaty, dark, sludgy and loud - and I mean ignorantly LOUD!

The Melvins are in a category like few others that really beckons many a spectator forward simply for the spectacle if nothing more.  The Melvins are Kings of a fallen civilization that was the sludge grunge scene that grew to fame with most notables such as Alice In Chains, Nirvana, Soundgarden, TAD and Mudhoney - among these the Melvins were plying their trade which in the wake of their own success paved the road for those yet to come.  Arguably the case can be made that Nirvana will always be the grunge icon - I contest this as King Buzzo of the Melvins was the initiating force that introduced the now famous Krist Novoselic and Kurt Cobain to Dave Grohl and brought about the creation of Nirvana.  The Melvins are the Genesis - the Alpha and the Omega.

The music as always at any Melvins show is, was and will be loud - last night was no different.  The Union Hall in Edmonton was comfortably full without that uneasy capacity level.  It was a chilled out older refined punker crowd peppered with some youthful exuberance and moshing but really Melvins shows are less about the mosh pit and more about watching King Buzzo et al absolutely lay waste to the stage and audience.  From hits spanning the decades the onslaught began and with intermittent hints of coherency through the deafening feedback it was an amazing show.  

With seizure like rhythm and spine snapping accuracy KIng Buzzo rallies the crowd under his silver backed mushroom cloud of hair, his guitar playing on point in a seek and destroy mission.  The bass line of Stephen Shane MacDonald sending deep visceral meat grinding chords through your central nervous system that sends nerve endings twitching.  The drums of Dale Crover are nothing short of spectacular as this tiny man defies explanation and sends his Paiste cymbals blistering in pain.

Photographically, the Melvins will leave you cursing deeply under your breath.  The red lights a wash from start to finish and until the knockout round; there is no successful navigation.  It is tough for even the seasoned pro's.  After nailing several key shots, the show ended in a cacophony of colossal feedback and muffled screams from a victimized crowd laying twitching and beaten.  The Melvins were done, it's time to move on.  Copache rides again!

This was finally it.  The final show - ever.  I don't think the magnitude of this event sank in until that morning.  I was about to witness the final songs, the final dances, the final screams of encouragement - the finality of it all, forever.  For me and many others like me this was going to shape our future lives from this point forward as the band has done in shaping who we are today.  

As I drove to the venue I was trying to piece together fragments in my mind why this band meant so much to so many.  It wasn't then that this came to me, it was on the dark ride home through the still night air after the first Edmonton show on July 28, 2016.  I realized that this band is the first band within my generational lifetime that has been born, raised, built, climaxed and resolved itself to its origin in my life.  You could argue other bands have done the same like RUSH, KISS and other notables like AC/DC; but I think when you look closely we weren't there as they were conceived in the minds of Canadians - we simply were swept up as fans.  The Tragically Hip have a piece of each us within them - and there is a piece of them within us; this I believe is what binds us so strongly to them like family.

Arriving at the show I went to the Cowboys Casino to the silent auction to see many fine wares up for display and auction including one of my prints.  Again the moment started to clarify inside me - in mere hours I would see the final performance.

The show launched in true form.  Never stopping or wavering in any capacity.  I won't bore you with the magnificent details of the evening.  This performance was meant to be seen and not told about second hand.  Gord Downie gave very few indicators of any illness or sub par performance.  In his regular awkward Elvis like gestures and movements I saw a man building to his final night in Kingston.  In the past 3 performances I have seen him somewhat reserved and conserving energy each night - but again on each night; releasing little by little and becoming comfortable with who he now is - but not letting a temporary illness define a legacy of music.

As I watched each song click by on my watch - the uncontrollable tears began to flow freely.  This was it - there wasn't going to be anymore.  I guess if I can make a prediction - I would say that in Kingston before everyone in attendance and tuned in through the CBC you will see a vintage Downie.  Risen above it all, clad in his metallic armor - pounding through the catalog of hits one after the next in true style amidst microphone stand boxing, bull riding, hankerchief kickflips and bodily spins.  The focus I believe has been preserving enough of himself for that final show.  In 30 shows of which I have seen I believe this is how he would want to be remembered.  

And then. . .it was over.

Someone asked me before the show if I was excited.  I replied that I was a little bit; but for a different reason.  I wanted it to be over with dignity and clarity and beauty.  There is something prized about a clean break.  The Tragically Hip and I parted on the best of terms - our terms.  Thank you for the memories.

Again there isn't a way imaginable to describe what magic took place in the final days of Rexall Place July 30, 2016.   The Tragically Hip in a final time whittling goal at the buzzer played their entire 3rd period of their lives before a packed to capacity house.  Having enjoyed some 30 Tragically Hip shows over the years I can tell you I've seen some real doozies including medical emergencies, near riots and everything in between.  This was none of those - they are in the past and what built the crescendo that manifested a lifelong career of relentless touring and commitment before us Saturday night. 

As Downie et all took to the stage "x's" and plied their craft before us it all came rushing back.  With raw emotion the reason we were all here was blatantly apparent but soon became overshadowed by majestic and mischevious smile, sparkling eyes still full of life to give and a spirit that won't quit.  It truly was a celebration. 

There really are no words as I stood in the 5th row watching the man that has made my life a pleasure to live simply by having him a part of mine.  I watched a man happy in his comfort zone, I saw him do what matters most to him and do it well.  To sing and dance!

For much of the old Hip classics I too danced but for much of it I stood in awe, respect and admiration of a band that has given so much and asked for so little in return.  Watching the Hip hold court for the second last time in my lifetime is a cathartic process - it allows us to "get it - get it all out!" and so too "make it last; at least until the supper bell rings!".

To hear the roar of the crowd at times peaking over the house PA showering and drowning Downie and his contemporaries in applause and affection was indeed leading them into the sanctity of our arms and hearts and keeping them safe for years to come.  To adequately describe this event in words is nothing short of epic and barely recognizable.  I found this video online that summarizes accurately what I speak of. 

Does your mother tell you things?
Long, long when I'm gone?
Who you talking to?
Is she telling you I'm the one?
It's a grave mistake and I'm wide awake.
Drive-in's rained out
Weatherman wet-fingers the sky
He pokes it out, he pulls it in
He don't know why
It's the same mistake
It's been a long time running
It's been a long time running
It's well worth the wait
We don't go anywhere
Just on trips
We haven't seen a thing
We still don't know where it is
It's a safe mistake
It's been a long time running
It's been a long time running
Well, well it's all the same mistake
Dead to rights and wide awake
I'll drop a caribou, I'll tell on you
I'll tell on you, I'll tell on you
You've got a boat-load of nerve
But I would say you've been told
You work me against my friends
And you'll get left out in the cold
It's the same mistake
It's been a long time running
It's been a long time coming
It's been a long, long, long time running
It's well worth the wait
It's well worth the wait
It's well worth the wait
It's well worth the wait