There were moments of real joy, too, like the recording of “You Me and the B’s,” in which Mr. If this was the way that we got to be with him, then that’s what we were doing.” “But it felt like we were creating more time by being in the studio. “You couldn’t say, ‘Hey, it’s going to be O.K.,’” Mr. Downie’s diagnosis hung heavy over the sessions. We knew that we needed to focus on pressing record.” “There was an urgency that pushed us to create as much as we could. “We were documenting how he was feeling, very quickly,” Mr. Downie’s daily lyrical exercises by the lake. Many were captured in single takes following Mr. Over four extraordinarily productive days at the studio, they made 17 songs, mostly using a minimal setup of piano, drums and guitar. “His response was to spend this precious time as he always had - making music, making memories and expressing deep gratitude to his family and friends for a life well lived, often sealing it with a kiss … on the lips.”Īfter New Year’s Day, they headed to the Bathouse to continue writing and recording with a small crew, including the musician Dave Hamelin the engineer Nyles Spencer and Dave Koster, a longtime associate of the Hip. Downie’s family said in a statement Wednesday. Nearly six more months would pass before he shared the news of his illness with the public, in May 2016, followed by a short summer tour with the Hip, as the band is known, whose emotional finale was watched by millions worldwide. Downie had told friends that he had an aggressive, deadly form of brain cancer, which ultimately ended his life on Tuesday night at 53. Rising early each morning, he put on a snowsuit and walked a short distance from the studio to the frozen shores of Lake Ontario, where he sat and hand-wrote lyrics in the cold.Ībout 10 days earlier, Mr. In the first week of January 2016, the Canadian singer-songwriter Gord Downie paid a visit to the Bathouse, the recording complex that his band, the Tragically Hip, owns in a small town outside Toronto.