A little over a month ago, I wrote about Hollerado’s final hometown show. While that show was certainly amazing, their final show (a sold out, headlining night at The Danforth Music Hall in Toronto) was truly something else.
Hollerado has been a part of my life for roughly ten years, and they’ve been a band for thirteen. Since moving to Ottawa eight years ago, I’ve been to so many of their shows; free outdoor concerts, headlining shows, one random show at City Hall. I’ve always gone to their shows without hesitation, so when I heard their last show ever was a Friday night in Toronto, we immediately bought tickets and started planning months in advance.
We ate dinner at a little restaurant right beside the venue, where the band also happened to be (they’ve got to eat too!). Menno came our way at one point, and stopped for a quick conversation. It was a great reminder of how down to earth and humble the band is. From there, I scarfed what was left of my fries and martini and booked it to the venue to get my hands on the one-night-only merch.
Hollerado had two openers that night: Cartel Madras (hip-hop/rap recently signed to the label from Calgary) and Little Junior (also label mates, from Toronto). I won’t pretend Cartel Madras is music I would typically gravitate to, but nevertheless by the end of their set I was happily bobbing along and enjoying myself.
Little Junior was a band I’d heard about in passing, but hadn’t yet really listened to or seen live. Surprise, surprise – I’ve been missing out! Wearing RIP Hollerado shirts, the band played a handful of their songs, and I’ve been listening to Crooked Tooth near daily ever since. Great energy, catchy lyrics, and a strange sense of high school nostalgia mixed together for an enjoyable set.
Then it was Hollerado’s turn. You could feel the love and anticipation in the room – everyone had been waiting for this show for months (the tickets had sold out within minutes), and we were all ready to dance and sing one last time. I smiled the entire time, and spent a few minutes just standing and taking in the crowded room full of people singing along and the band having a visibly great time up on stage. They told us stories of touring over the years, they thanked us over and over. They gave us two encores (one of which was done without any mics, as the venue shut them off). A man in a chicken suit played the guitar lead of Juliette. Even writing about it now, three weeks after the show, I have goosebumps and a huge smile on my face. I was so happy, and so thankful, to have been apart of their farewell.
As the boys waved goodbye to the crowd and took their final bow, visibly emotional, I expected to feel some sort of sadness or finality. One of my favourite bands was no more. Instead, I just felt insanely happy to have known their music, met some wonderful people at their shows, and to walk away with memories of an amazing night.
Plus, I still had one more chance to say goodbye.. Part two of the retirement weekend, coming soon.
The Concert Chronicles 