Taking in live music is a huge part of my life. Ever since that first City and Colour concert in 2008, I was determined to come-face-to-face with as many of the musicians I admired as possible. And, over the past 12 years, I feel I’ve done pretty well on that front. I’ve been lucky enough to attend at least one concert annually, seeing legends such as Neil Young, Tom Petty, Pink, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Bachman Turner Overdrive, The Tea Party, Gordon Lightfoot and more.
Regardless of the number of shows I attend, the cerebral, full-body experience of witnessing live music never gets old for me. Whether small theatre or large stadium, I love seeing fellow ticketholders finding their seats, chattering excitedly; I love how the pre-show stage lighting builds excitement, signalling the amazing experience ahead; and of course, when the person or people I’m there to see finally make their entrance, and the crowd goes wild. In that moment, I have to ask myself whether this is really happening. It all feels so surreal that musicians I admire are standing right in front of me, belting out songs that I spent hours listening to and making my own. Once I’ve pinched myself and realized that yes, I am here, and yes, those are the musicians I think they are, I just feel so damn privileged to be there, able to take in this wonderful experience.
While all my concerts have been good, there are concerts I attended by two artists which I consider to be the greatest so far. Is it a coincidence that both were by kick-ass Canadians? I think not. As a country, we’ve proven our musical chops over and over again, rocking in the ranks with the best of them.
The Trews: Hailing from Antigonish, Nova Scotia, I’ve been following this group since the release of their debut album, House Of Ill Fame in 2003. Certified gold in Canada, and spawning the singles Tired Of Waiting, Not Ready To Go, and Fleeting Trust, I was sold immediately. The Trews are the epitome of rock and roll in its finest form, led by the fantastically raw, unadulterated vocals of lead singer Colin MacDonald.
I’ve had the opportunity to see The Trews three times: in February 2016 at Lethbridge’s Southminster United Church; in November 2016 at Average Joe’s Sports Bar, and in February 2019 at The Esplanade in Medicine Hat.
With each show set in a different atmosphere, I got a real glimpse into this band’s incredible versatility. They could rock a small church with only acoustics; they could whip out a full electric performance in a gritty bar so small that sound engulfed the space and melted the walls; and, they could bring a theatre of 700 fans to their feet with joy and to their knees with emotion, all in the same evening.
Each show also boasted the same quality and consistency: what you heard on the record was also exactly what you heard live. The band is so tight, and they play off each other so well. There is a real camaraderie between them, and that connection is evident on stage.
I also feel that their music gets better and better as time goes on. The band’s Esplanade show promoted their latest record: 2018’s Civilianaires. I hadn’t heard much of the album before the show, but 10 minutes into the performance, it was clear that this was a piece of music that I needed to own. Every song seemed like it could be a hit single, with up-tempo rock beats and expertly crafted lyrics that could both move and mystify. Sitting in the theatre that night was a true joy, and a memory I wish I could relive again and again.
Sam Roberts: If I could describe this man with just one word, it would be “class”. After seeing him perform live at Whoop Up Days in 2019, it was clear he had a ton of it. Sam exudes stereotypical Canadian niceness, with absolutely no airs or arrogance (not to mention the fact that he’s one hell of a musician).
I’ve been following Sam since the release of his 2002 debut, The Inhuman Condition. The album’s lead singles, Brother Down and Don’t Walk Away Eileen climbed the Canadian charts; for months, I remember those songs being played at least once per day in my room on my tiny portable CD player (complete with radio and tape deck, I might add). Sam wasted no time releasing a sophomore album: 2003’s We Were Born In A Flame (which also spawned several great singles).
As the years passed, I always told myself if I ever got to see Sam perform, I would seize the opportunity immediately and without question. So, when I found out that he was coming to our tiny festival, I couldn’t believe it. The time was now.
I’ll be honest: I also had tickets to see Walk Off The Earth the night after Sam, and of the two concerts, Walk Off had me more excited. Looking back now, Sam blew them out of the water by comparison.
We had arrived at the Exhibition gates around 6 p.m. on that warm August evening; there were two opening bands ahead of Sam, but we were determined to arrive early to secure a spot as close to the stage as possible. (I try to do this with all concerts I attend, as I am vertically challenged) 😊
Luckily, we were one of the first people to arrive, and I set myself firmly in front of the stage. I was ready for action. As we listened to the pleasant stylings of Nuela Charles and then Mariel Buckley, I suddenly looked at the clock on my phone and realized it was 9 p.m. The summer sky had grown into a bluish pink twilight, and after looking over my shoulder for the first time since we arrived, I realized the lawns of the exhibition had become packed with people, charged with excitement. It was time. I was thrilled to see that others were looking forward to seeing Sam as much as I, and that just heightened my anticipation tenfold.
When the man of the hour appeared on stage with his band and shouted “Good evening, Lethbridge!” the crowd roared. What we were treated to next was a full-blown, 2.5-hour rock-your-fucking-socks-off concert.
While most of the festival’s main acts were playing hour-long sets at most, Sam and the boys played a massive 17-song set list, complete with two encores. With each song, Sam drew on the crowd’s energy, connecting with fierce eye-contact, mass sing-alongs and wicked guitar solos. I can still see him in the glow of the stage’s blue strobe lights, belting out Where Have All The Good People Gone with an obvious thrill in his eye when the crowd (including me), screamed the lyrics along with him. The entire time, I just looked up in awe, that once again, someone I had followed for years was performing before my very eyes. I just felt so lucky. I knew this was going to be one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences, and I had to remember it in as much detail as I possibly could.
But, the best part of the experience came at the end. Returning for his second encore, and final two songs, (which were of course, Brother Down and Don’t Walk Away Eileen), fans were just about to discover how much class this man had. After all the lyrics had been sung, he stepped away from the mic and let the band take over with what can only be described as an amazing jam session. He then ran off the stage and began a mass meet-and-greet with fans in the front row, giving high-fives, hugs, and taking photos.
When he got to me, he gave me a LONG hug, and I tried to tell him how great I thought he was, although I don’t think he heard me above the noise.
If it had only been the concert itself, I would have walked away happy. But that extra touch at the end, building connections and appreciation with fans, is the difference between a “good” memory and “an experience I’ll never forget” memory. And, I think Sam knew that. Best $25 I ever spent.
Aside from everything I’ve just described, there’s another reason I consider the concerts from the Trews and Sam Roberts to be the most memorable. Thanks to my talent for working myself into the front row, I was lucky enough to be gifted a small token from both bands following the show. After the Trews performance at Average Joe’s, Colin MacDonald handed me his guitar pick. After Sam’s show, I walked away with a copy of the set list. I still have both of these special treasures: the guitar pick is tucked away for safe keeping with the original ticket, and the set list is framed in my office, along with a picture from that wonderful night.
As I’ve said, concerts always seem so surreal to me, and I’m always having to pinch myself to make sure I’m not in some wonderful dream. These items are my pinch, proving that I was part of something very real and magical.
What’s the best concert you’ve ever been to, and why? Comment below!