I remember the first interview I did with Hugh Dillon. He was so wasted he could barely string two words together. He called back later and practically begged me not to rat on him to the record company.
I remember the first Headstones show I saw. It was a full-on, badass rock 'n' roll spectacular featuring the snarling lead singer who seemed to be the spitting image - literally - of Teenage Head's Frankie Venom. The f-words, middle fingers and spit flew, and these memorable words roared off the stage: "I went down to the cemetery looking for love! I got there and my baby was buried, I had to dig her up!"
Spitting in the face of death has rarely been more fun, and this singer was so intense and so angry that you imagined he'd punch you in the head for no reason at all, leaving a knuckle-sized "H" from his famous Headstones ring imprinted on your forehead.
I remember seeing the film Hard Core Logo, where Dillon played a screwed-up rock musician who blows his brains out at the end of the film. Method acting! Put it this way: It was a very convincing performance.
Those were the days. They are long gone.
Dillon is a new man - serious actor, serious songwriter, reverend ... well, maybe not quite that far, but to hear his new band, the Hugh Dillon Redemption Choir, one wonders how it came to be. Distinctly less aggressive than the Headstones, the band hits Red's tonight and will be performing selections from its debut album, The High Cost of Low Living - both band name and album title a tongue-in-cheek yet truthful comment on Dillon's past.
I know I'm not alone. There are plenty of Headstones fans across Canada undoubtedly wondering the same thing - who are you and what have you done with Hugh Dillon?
One recent album review ended with "It sounds like he needs a hug. Dare you."
In a recent phone interview, the 42-year-old singer is a good sport about defending his new direction. He recalls some of the first gigs with the Redemption Choir: "I was terrified when I had to go out and play Buffalo and Ottawa, which are very much like Edmonton and Calgary in terms of their big Headtones following. We'd see the people there with their Headstones T-shirts and their arms crossed and by the end of it, their arms are uncrossed, they've opened up their minds and they get into it. With the Headstones, if you cut away the aggression and the hard drinking, you're left with songs. At this stage in the game, when you listen to to those songs, these are f---ing great songs."
The question of what happened to that spitting, snarling, heroin-addicted character in the Headstones answers itself: He's dead - or literally would've been.
Dillon says, "I think I woke up in Edmonton one day and I started using heroin again and I said to myself, I'm going to go home in a bag. I've got to knock all this off. I've got to make some adjustments. It's the hardest thing in the world. It's f---ing hard. I had to walk away from everything. The Headstones were done. I didn't have these acting roles waiting for me. I didn't have this voice-over work I've been lucky to get. I didn't have any songs in the can. I didn't have any band waiting in the wings. I had nothing. I had to start over. People have to start over in their lives sometimes. I just didn't want to end up defeated and bitter - or dead. So it was the best move I ever made."
This was almost exactly two years ago, he adds. He immediately split for northern Ontario and took a job cutting trees - not much of a smack trade up there - and says he wouldn't been happy to spend the rest of his days as a lumberjack (with some particularly colourful rock 'n' roll tales to tell around the campfire). Then a film he was in came out, Hollywood agents started to call and he met up with musician Chris Osti, with whom Dillon enjoyed "great chemistry" and no agenda beyond having fun. Dillon points out the difference between "rock 'n' rollers" and "rock stars," those who do it for love and those who do it for money. Longtime friend Paul Langlois from the Tragically Hip helped record some of Dillon's new songs and the Redemption Choir was born.
So of course these tunes are different than what Headstones fans might expect. The singer points out that he wrote Cemetery when he was 23 years old, in an especially "angry and nihilistic" period of his life. His heart isn't in such a dark place anymore. He still can play the bad guy when he wants to - as in the upcoming Trailer Park Boys motion picture - and howl out an intense version of Rebel Yell when the mood strikes him, but he's not going to build his entire future on an image that for all intents and purposes is gone.
He says, "When we started, it was very much like method acting. We walked the walk, talked the talk and you just can't survive that kind of lifestyle. Life's too short. There are other things that I want to do. And everybody was ready. Everybody knew we had a killer run. It wasn't a drag. We had all those gold records, we had a great cult following. You've got to know when it's time. Otherwise, you're just dragging your ass around and you'll become bitter with what it is you love - and I love music and movies and writing and creating. If you're not behind it 100% or you're riding on your reputation, I think everybody loses."
Now that's something to remember.
