Rock n roll reunions. Why do they happen? People that famously state they will never, ever work with that person again will usually do it if the price is right. Just this past week, The Stone Roses, a group that famously fought like children and said as recently as this summer that they wouldn’t reunite, did. Pavement reunited last year, and since they never made the money when they were originally together, I don’t think it’s terrible to go and get some now, especially since they only did the one tour and that was it. Look at the Pixies and their Who-esque tour, with all the backdrop animations choreographed to every note of every tune. Does it really pay to become a parody of yourself, revisiting the past like April Wine playing casinos?
I suppose that Canadian bands will fall more victim to this. Recently, the Tea Party, Big Sugar and the Watchmen have reunited to shrugs from most, while the Headstones are likely more high profile than ever, what with frontman Hugh Dillon being a big TV star and all (his show, Flashpoint, really isn’t all that bad). So a Headstones reunion, be it permatent or just one tour, isn’t terrible either, since the rawkers never had a proper farewell tour (not that Dillon would remember it if they did, though he has been clean and sober for years now). But these guys, no matter what their intentions, are all just hopping on a nostalgia train, and what’s even stranger to someone like myself in his late 20s, is that 90s music is now classic rock, and these guys are the equivalent of Aerosmith having their 90s comeback (think about it, the math works out).
Everyone crying out for their favourite artists to reunite is kind of lame, in my opinion. Yes, it was a rush to see Pavement twice last year in two different cities, mostly because when I was in high school I never got to while they were together the first time around. I suppose that the intentions of Jimmy Page, when he throws together the rare Led Zeppelin reunion, have always been pure, in that he does it for the people who weren’t even alive while they were together. Sadly, those people can’t come close to affording the tickets.
In the end, it’s all a little silly. Everyone; the artists, the fans, the journalists, they’re all living in the past. We can do that easily enough by putting on the record, I find that that takes me back to my parents’ basement more so than standing in a shitty bar surrounded by a bunch of beer advertisements, waiting for Gordie Johnson and whichever line up of Big Sugar he reunited to take the stage. Though I must admit, I do miss Hugh Dillon spitting on everyone in the front row. That I’d pay to see.