A presentation of The Tragically Hip Podcast Series

Hosted by jD and Greg LeGros

If Episode 101 was the band trying to get hired, Up To Here is the band showing up like: we’re already the headliners, you just don’t know it yet.

Released in September 1989, The Tragically Hip’s first full-length LP is the moment where the sweat and swagger of the EP turns into something sturdier — a vibe, a sound, an identity. This is the record that made the country start paying attention in a different way. Not “hey, that bar band is pretty good,” but “oh… this is our band.”

We set the scene: Mulroney still running the country, the first Grey Cup at the SkyDome (and yes, the Rough Riders/Roughriders nonsense is as chaotic as it sounds), and a pop-heavy musical world where Repeat Offender, Milli Vanilli, Paula Abdul, and even Dr. Feelgood are moving units like it’s a national sport. Meanwhile, the underground is brewing — Sonic Youth, the weirdos starting to kick the door open — and out of Kingston comes this bluesy, barroom, don’t-overthink-it-just-turn-it-up record that somehow becomes a diamond-certified Canadian classic.

We talk about why Up To Here connects with everybody — the Queens Pub crowd, the farm-town beer crowd, the “I only know four Hip songs but I know them perfectly” crowd — and how certain tracks became bigger than the band itself. There’s a whole New Orleans is Sinking tangent involving Crown Royal, Lake Ontario, and one of the most wholesome cross-cultural Canadian moments imaginable.

This album is loaded. Side A is basically a greatest hits package. But we also dig into the deeper stuff: the early emergence of Gord’s strange, slippery cadence; the way the band’s confidence jumps from the EP to this like it got shot out of a cannon; and the idea that every Hip album has at least one track that quietly points at what comes next.

Up To Here is where the lesson plan gets real.

• The cultural and musical landscape of 1989 (Mulroney, pop domination, the underground brewing)
• Why Up To Here hit everywhere in Canada — bars, cottages, dorms, and car stereos
• The leap in identity from the EP to a full-on signature sound
• “New Orleans is Sinking” as a national anthem (and as a live-performance launchpad)
• Gord Downie’s early “how-the-hell-do-you-sing-that” cadence taking shape (“38 Years Old”)
• The record’s “top-heavy” track sequencing — and why it works
• Deep-cut advocacy hour: “Every Time You Go” gets its flowers
• The “DNA track” theory: one song per album that hints at the next record
• Listener callout: What’s your Up To Here moment?
• 
  

Up To Here (1989)

Produced by Don Smith

A barroom-recorded, road-tested, diamond-certified cornerstone.

• jD’s pick: 38 Years Old
• Greg’s pick: Opiated

Next week, we keep moving — and you can already feel the band getting sharper, stranger, and more themselves. The evolution is in motion.

Fully & Completely: Redux is available wherever you get your podcasts.

📲 Follow The Tragically Hip Podcast Series on Instagram: @tthpodseries

💬 Join the Facebook Group and hang with like-minded Hip fans

✉️ Reach jD: tthtop40@gmail.com

A presentation of The Tragically Hip Podcast Series

Hosted by jD and Greg LeGros

Class is officially back in session.

In Episode 101, Fully & Completely returns as Fully & Completely: Redux, kicking off a weekly, album-by-album journey through the catalog of The Tragically Hip — starting where it all began: the self-titled 1987 EP.

This episode takes us back to a pivotal year in Canadian history. Brian Mulroney is Prime Minister. The loonie replaces the dollar bill. Edmonton is the City of Champions. And in a music landscape dominated by The Joshua Tree, Appetite for Destruction, Sign o’ the Times, and Document, a sweaty, blues-rock bar band from Kingston quietly releases their first official recording.

It’s not a masterpiece. It’s not fully formed.

But it is the sound of a band just out of high school, road-tested, tight as hell, and figuring out who they might become.

jD and Greg dig into the historical and musical context of 1987, the Canadian charts of the era, the bar-band DNA baked into this EP, and the early lyrical breadcrumbs that hint at where The Tragically Hip were headed. Along the way, they debate throwaway lines versus keeper lyrics, celebrate the power of live mythology, and agree — as most Canadians eventually do — that Highway Girl is the track that escapes the gravity of its origins.

This is the starting point.

The chalk outline.

The sweaty stage at the Horseshoe before the arenas.

And from here on out, it only gets deeper.

• Why 1987 matters — culturally, musically, and politically
• The Tragically Hip as a very good bar band (and why that matters)
• Blues rock, R&B roots, and early Stones influence
• Canadian pop vs. underground grit in the late ’80s
• First signs of Gord Downie’s lyrical instincts
• The role of live performance in shaping Hip mythology
• Time Capsule Track: Highway Girl

The Tragically Hip (EP, 1987)

Produced by Ken “Kenny” Greer

Eight tracks. Under 30 minutes. A launching pad.

Next week, the tour continues with the next chapter in the evolution — more confidence, sharper songwriting, and the beginning of something unmistakably Hip.

Fully & Completely: Redux is available wherever you get your podcasts.

Follow, subscribe, and settle in — we’re taking this fully and completely, one record at a time.

Happy Holidays from yer pal jD

Hey folks, jD here. Give this episode a listen and then get cracking and submit and share your stories.

Celebrate this triumph with Justin, Craig, Kirk, and jD.

Join jD and Sara J for a weekly gab fest focusing on all things The Tragically Hip!

Ever wonder what really happens when I “tabulate the results using an abacus”?

This is The Abacus Files — eight straight minutes of pure, mystical nonsense pulled from the fever dream that is my creative process. A parade of psychic ferrets, deep-fried deep fryers, face bidets, kumquat bongs, and ceramic televangelists with spiderweb crowns — all gathered around one sacred desk to divine the true order of The Tragically Hip’s Top 40.

It’s equal parts séance, satire, and studio detritus — a love letter to the absurd rituals behind the show. Somewhere between noir and nostalgia, math and magic, you’ll find The Abacus Files: a companion piece to chaos, and maybe the most honest thing we’ve ever done.

So grab a candle that smells like nachos and regret. The spreadsheet gods demand tribute.

It is October 18 — twelve years have passed since Gord Downie released Secret Path, his beautiful and haunting tribute to Chanie Wenjack. Today we re-release the Secret Path episode of Discovering Downie to listen back through those ten songs with fresh ears, deep care, and respect.

We trace Secret Path’s journey: Gord’s shift to solo purpose, how each lyric sketches escape and absence, and how the album remains a bridge between grief and activism. In this intimate revisit, we unpack the poems, the illustrations, and the moments that still haunt us.

What to Expect:

• A song-by-song revisit: The Stranger, Swing Set, Seven Matches, I Will Not Be Struck, Son, Secret Path, Don’t Let This Touch You, Haunt Them, Haunt Them, Haunt Them, The Only Place To Be, Here, Here and Here
• Reflections on how Secret Path changed what we heard — and how we remember
• Insights into Gord’s vision, the artistic collaboration with Jeff Lemire, and the legacy of cultural reconciliation
• Moments of silence, of grief, and of renewed purpose

If this album shaped your heart — or you haven’t listened closely before — I invite you to enter its shadows with me and let Gord’s voice linger long after.