If you happened to walk into a pub in the South Wales Valleys in the mid-1990s, you might have heard a familiar sound. The chords were tight, the vocals raw and if you listened closely, you might have even recognized the songs. They were, after all, written by the Tragically Hip.
But the band onstage wasn’t Canadian, and they weren’t famous. They called themselves Tragic Love Company, a name pieced together from their influences: Bad Company, Mother Love Bone and the Tragically Hip. Soon, they would become Stereophonics, one of the biggest rock bands to come out of Wales. But before they had their own hits, they had the Hip.
You’ll recognize those tunes on Saturday, too, if you check out Stereophonics at Massey Hall, when the band is in town in support of their latest album, Make ‘Em Laugh, Make ‘Em Cry, Make ‘Em Wait, set for release on April 25. “All the guys are coming to watch the show,” Stereophonics frontman Kelly Jones recently boasted over Zoom. “I haven’t had a chance to speak with them, but we’re definitely doing at least one Hip song.”
Stereophonics’ connection to the Tragically Hip runs deeper than admiration. Both bands emerged from small towns that shaped their sensibilities. The Hip came from Kingston; Stereophonics grew up in Cwmaman, a tiny mining village with “literally one-road-in, one-road-out.” Jones recalls first encountering the band’s music via a cassette tape a musician friend had brought back after touring with the band Junkyard. He had never heard of the Canadian group, but the songs, scrappy, sunburnt, full of hard luck and restless souls, felt instantly familiar. He and his bandmates quickly learned the songs and worked them into their setlist. “We did them much more aggressively,” Jones recalled. “We did them like AC/DC would do them.” When patrons asked who had penned the tunes, Jones simply replied: “They’re our songs.”
In 1994, the Tragically Hip played Cardiff University “for less than the price of a pint” while touring Fully Completely. Jones and his bandmates were in the crowd, hoping to get the band’s attention by throwing their demo onstage. A year later, during the Day for Night tour, Jones got the chance to introduce himself outside the Shepherd’s Bush Empire in London. He remembers Downie reaching out, pulling off his glove and shaking his hand before taking the demo tape he offered him.
By the late 1990s, Stereophonics had broken out. They signed a record deal, released their debut album and became fixtures of the British rock scene. Along the way, their connection with the Hip grew. When Jones and the band first toured Canada, opening for Our Lady Peace, the Hip invited them to the Bathhouse, their studio retreat near Kingston. “We attempted to skate on the lake, and they gave us chicken wings and beer,” Jones recalled with nostalgic cheerfulness. “We’ve been friends ever since.”
Over time, the two bands followed strikingly similar trajectories. They built reputations as must-see live acts, spent years on the road and carried the weight of expectation in their home countries. Their songwriting reflected a kind of working-class poetry that distinguished them from their peers. Jones believes that 38 Years Old could just as easily have been about a Welsh mining town, just as A Thousand Trees could have been set in Kingston.
Then there was loss. In 2010, Stereophonics lost their drummer, Stuart Cable, a childhood friend of Jones and bassist Richard Jones. Seven years later, the Hip lost Downie. Jones recalled feeling the weight of the moment while watching the recent Amazon documentary, The Tragically Hip: No Dress Rehearsal: “I emailed every band member and said, ‘I’m in tears watching this.’ Our stories are so similar, it’s crazy.”
Despite their deep admiration for each other, it wasn’t until the late aughts that their mutual appreciation led to moments on stage together. In 2009, Jones made a guest appearance during the Tragically Hip’s concert at the Forum in London. In 2018, Johnny Fay of the Hip returned the favour by joining Stereophonics onstage at Toronto’s Danforth Music Hall to perform Blow at High Dough and Locked in the Trunk of a Car.
On Saturday at Massey, the next chapter in this decades long story will be written. And maybe, if you step into a pub in Wales on the right night, you’ll still hear a Tragically Hip song played loud, not just as a memory, but as a shared anthem between two bands, two countries and the fans who understand why some songs never fade.
