A Tribute to Dallas Good
A Tribute to Dallas Good
By: Julie Maier
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Dallas Good, singer-guitarist of Canadian music stalwarts The Sadies, died of natural causes on February 17th, 2022. Dallas’ departure after an all-too-short 48 years has resulted in an outpouring of emotion from his friends, collaborators, and fans, and many shared sentiments over how deeply this loss is felt. Here’s one more imperfect attempt to try and capture the reason for our collective grief.
From their formation in Toronto in 1994, The Sadies shared more than 20 releases between debut Precious Moments and their last full-length record in 2017, Northern Passages. With a clear reverence for the foundational Americana, garage rock, and punk music that they drew inspiration from, The Sadies honed a razor-sharp alt-country sound and an electrifying performance style that were distinctively their own. Built upon the shoulder-to-shoulder guitar prowess and blood harmonies of the brothers Good (Dallas and Travis), superlatives like “best band” and “best live act” were easy for Canadian music fans, and others in the know, to affix to The Sadies. An effortlessly cool and towering figure on stage, Dallas was wiry grace in a bespoke Nudie suit, with long limbs and fingers that moved deftly across the fretboard of his no-nonsense red Telecaster, and a gritty baritone voice that illuminated weary rock’n’roll stories of men caught between life, death, and the devil. In cities across the country, so many concertgoers looked forward to regular chances to see Dallas, Travis, Sean, and Mike tear up a local barroom stage, or headline a favourite summertime music festival – and the end of that reliable presence leaves a gaping hole in the Canadian musical landscape.
Dallas’ bonafides as an artist, both alongside and beyond The Sadies, are storied and many – cutting across the boundaries of genre with a list of collaborators that includes Neil Young, Buffy Sainte-Marie, Neko Case, Kurt Vile, Blue Rodeo, Gord Downie, Andre Williams, and a spot in projects Elevator to Hell, Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet, and The Unintended. The outpouring of grief from his fellow musical artists – those he wrote and performed with, up-and-comers that The Sadies invited out on tour, and those whom he just rubbed elbows with backstage – was a clear and genuine reflection of how respected and admired Dallas was in the music community. He was a consummate professional and truly an “artist’s artist,” and carried himself with a constantly humble nature that belied his enormous talents as a songwriter and performer.
Upon news of his passing, grief also poured out from Dallas’ fanbase, with story after story being shared on social media of music goers who had been seeing The Sadies perform for years. They remembered Dallas not only for his reliably excellent live shows and stellar recordings, but also for the laid-back generosity with which he shared his time, an easy smile, and endless great stories of the artists he loved and his many years on the road as a touring musician.
This was also very much the Dallas Good I was fortunate to briefly know and call a friend. Dallas flew to Saskatoon to join The Garrys in producing our third album, Get Thee to a Nunnery, during a very weird time – it was March 2020, the hometown Juno awards had just been cancelled, and none of us really knew yet how to purport ourselves during a global pandemic. Regardless of the uneasiness Dallas must have felt about being far from home while everything in the western world seemed to be unravelling, and at a time when The Sadies’ performance schedule for the foreseeable future was almost instantly wiped out, he nevertheless lead us through the album’s production with a calm demeanour and a steady, experienced hand. Despite his stature as an artist, Dallas never made us feel like he was out of our league or that he was doing us a favour, and never insisted upon his own way – instead, he shared a genuine interest in collaborating with us to make the album we envisioned sound as good as it possibly could. I also admired the gentle, reassuring way he had of stepping aside when he saw that the band had a creative dispute to settle; at times we were divided between two choices, he would offer a favourite coin, just in case we decided to leave it up to fate, or remind us that “there are only wrong answers now” as he stepped out for some air. The support and trust that Dallas gave us, and the time we got to spend making music alongside him, is something that we are so extremely grateful for, and it’s clear from the stories shared this week that many, many other artists were similarly lifted up by Dallas’ talents.
Dallas leaves behind an unbelievably rich musical legacy, but also a personal legacy of generosity, humility, and friendship. His skill as a musician and, more simply, the way he carried himself as a person, elevated the artists around him and made his community a better place to make and hear music. While so many music-loving hearts are breaking for the unheard collaborations, unsung harmonies, and darkened stages that are left in the wake of this loss, it’s worth taking a moment to be thankful for all that he shared. Rest easy, Dallas – you were one of the good ones.
- Julie Maier