That Night in Toronto

That Night in Toronto

Album re-enactments

Belle & Sebastian, Tragically Hip, Sloan and more

Michael Barclay's avatar
Michael Barclay
May 30, 2026
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What do Belle and Sebastian and the Tragically Hip have in common? In an excerpt from my 2018 book The Never-Ending Present, all is explained below.

(This week’s live music listings are here.)

Last week Belle and Sebastian were at Massey Hall for two nights, playing their first two albums in their entirety for their 30th anniversary: Tigermilk the first night, If You’re Feeling Sinister the next. For longtime fans of the band, this was a big deal: by the time the band became a proper, regular, touring unit in the early 2000s, those first two records were far in the rearview mirror, and many of those songs were never performed live.

I’m one of the very few B&S fans — this week was my fifth time seeing them — who think their later albums are much, much better than the first three, but we can fight about that later. I wasn’t planning on going to these shows, but a friend offered a last-minute ticket to Tigermilk, and I was more than happy to go. (Thanks, D.)

I was reminded that it was Belle and Sebastian who pioneered the modern trend of “playing the classic album” live in its entirety, a trend to which pretty much every artist with a career longer than 10 years has now succumbed.

Part of me thinks it’s cynical nostalgia-bait to lure in fairweather fans who don’t care whether or not you continue to create new material, and who want to have an entirely predictable night out. But the music fan in me loves the chance to hear deep cuts that would never normally make a current set list.

Just please: don’t play the album in order. Let us have some element of surprise.

In 2015, the Tragically Hip were in a lull: a legacy act with an audience who mostly wanted to hear their ’90s hits. They also weren’t getting along very well; they’re one of the few bands — anywhere, ever — to maintain the original lineup for more than 30 years, and things were feeling stale. They reluctantly agreed to do a “deluxe” box set of their bestselling album, 1992’s Fully Completely, and then do a tour where they played the album in its entirety.

The result: they once again became an arena act. The band felt more personally connected than they had in at least a decade. That confidence bled into their next record, their most creative in years, Man Machine Poem — which would turn out to be their swan song, for reasons every Canadian knows.

I get into this below, in an excerpt from The Never-Ending Present, about the challenges of being a legacy act, giving the fans what they want, and how the concept of “playing the album” evolved from Brian Wilson to All Tomorrow’s Parties to the nostalgia-industrial complex it is today. With quotes from Jay Ferguson of Sloan (who are hosting their annual garage sale today) and Brendan Canning of Broken Social Scene, who toured the 20th anniversary of You Forgot It In People a few years ago — something Gord Downie urged them to do years earlier.

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It was Belle and Sebastian who changed the live-music industry—ironic, for a band who put out three records before they ever played two consecutive dates.

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