October 16 and 17, 2025, saw Kingston's The Wilderness (web link) play the final two shows of the band's run at The Broom Factory. It comes at the end of ten-plus years, two albums, an EP, various other recordings, thousands of kilometres of touring, and many highs and lows. It's hard to say goodbye, but a packed house each night is willing to try.

After excellent opening sets from Kingston's The Codas (web link) and Montreal's RedFox (web link) on respective nights, fans are treated to a short film that (I believe) made it's debut during their 10th Anniversary show at Isabel Bader Centre for the Performing Arts (web link). The accompanying music starts softly and swells to an anthemic climax. I'm not sure what this piece is, but it sounds like variations upon the band's Garden of England and it is magnificent. I note that they've made a few additions to the film to mark the finality of these performances. The first wave of sadness hits. It won't be the last.

The band doesn't let us dwell in this feeling for long, blasting out of the gates with “Words Get in the Way.” I quickly see I'm not the only attendee that has had this song in their head (stuck on repeat) as the crowd, quite literally, goes wild. The ovation after the opening song on the Friday night in particular, is without a doubt the loudest crowd response to a live act I have seen in Kingston. It prompts bassist Joe Kenny to lean over to front man Jonas Lewis-Henson, smiling ear to ear, eyes wide “We've only played one song!” Alright, fun is back on the menu. Who can be sad now?

The set list consists of highlights from the band's deep catalogue. Songs from Seminary Road, Until Tomorrow, Strangers I Used to Love, and stray singles all prompt boisterous sing/shout-a longs. I've been to an occasional ramshackle Wilderness gig, but on nights like these when they have the crowd in the palms of their hands, it's always special. It's legit “rock star” stuff. Even if we've heard the stories behind “Pick You Up”, “Virginia Sapphire”, “The Arboretum”, or “Hollywood Boulevard” a half-dozen times, we're rapt.

Jonas gives us permission to sing even louder on “Somewhere Left Behind.” We scream the bad words in “Hollywood Boulevard” and “Strangers I Used to Love” at least as loudly as we did at the Strangers album release show at Blu Martini. Things slow down a bit for “Older Now,” and the instrumental hook hits just right. Former bassist “Hot” Karl Tombak joins the band for “Graveyard”. Jonas joins the crowd, mic stand and all, for “Strangers I Used to Love” and encouragement to sing even louder is eagerly met.

At some point during the set Jonas says that The Wilderness we see on stage is likely not the incarnation each of us had first experienced (“our” Wilderness). That's the reality of ten years chasing down a dream with at least six lives intersecting at any given time. It brings to mind the Ship of Theseus. How many parts can change before it ceases to be the same ship? Is there an immutable essence that remains? Is it our insistence that it's the same ship that makes it so?

Ten years of insistence kept this ship called The Wilderness going. On stage, where counterpoint instrumental breakdowns in songs like “Graveyard” and “Virginia Sapphire” threaten to send them careening in opposite directions. Off stage, where lineup changes and countless other obstacles challenged their mettle. Five hundred people over two nights (from all across Canada, save Saskatchewan and PEI, depending on the night) can attest to the immutable spirit of this ship.

The set proper ends with “Complicated Feeling”. Hank Lawrence's driving beat over a bed of Liam Neale's keys, the muscular riff being doubled (tripled? quadrupled?) with guitars and a sax line from Nicholas Lennox, that wouldn't sound out of place on E Street, let you know you're in the heart of Wilderness country.

Then they break your heart (again likely). They say they didn't know they were writing the last Wilderness song but this song caps the whole journey.

They hit it out of the park (again) on the way out the door. Kind of like the shot in the arm of two sold out shows just as you're hanging them up.

What do you do when you've tried it all? Call it what it is. Admit that you’re done trying.

We had a good run, didn’t we? To my eye/ear these are some of the most emotional vocals from Jonas across both nights. It's not hard to see why. They left it all out there. On the stage, on the road, in the studio, Ten Years.

And they still have to ask “…didn't we?”. I'd have complicated feelings too.

Paul Westerberg almost famously asked “How do you say you're okay/good night/I miss you/I'm lonely to an answering machine?” when the tech was starting to boom and felt cold/alien. Forty years later, answering machines now obsolete, The Wilderness' fans took those questions head on.

As the band walked off stage ahead of the encore on Friday night, we heard audio recordings from fans attending previous shows. Not one of them afraid of how they may sound or what they might reveal when they spoke: “Whatever you guys do next, know that we love you”, “My teachers told me I was useless too”, “I struggle with depression”, “your music feels like someone understands my problems”, “you guys are a shining example of non-toxic masculinity”, “This is sad. You guys are my favourite band.” I've often told others that this band “gets it.”

They have songs about trying your best to get through life, falling in love, depression, the environment, the end of the world, self doubt, the road, home, sunk cost fallacy, how we remember our loved ones, growing up, growing old(er). If I wasn't crying yet, I was crying now. I'm happy others knew they “got it” too.

Stirring renditions of “All Your Favorite Bands” (Dawes) and the band's own anthem to living for right now, “Dancing in the Dive Bars”, close out the show. Seeing the band trade solos, smiles, kisses, and roughhousing throughout the encore has me grinning through the heartbreak. Seems that way for the band too. The lights come on and no one wants to leave. Friends and fans mill around, spent.

It'll take us a while, and we'll always have the music, but I hope everyone there that night (band included) finds a positive place to put the energy and enthusiasm that had found a home in The Wilderness.

Kingston fights well above it's weight class when it comes to local artists. Supporting them is essential to maintaining (gasp, even improving) those conditions. There's no mono-culture anymore, so let's embrace the people telling our stories. They're easy to root for and it's frankly more rewarding all around. Let's embrace the venues that host them. Let's embrace the crews that support them.

May all your favourite bands stay together. Posted: Oct 28, 2025