Artist: Noeline Hofmann
Hometown: Bow Island, Alberta, Canada
Latest Album: Purple Gas EP
What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?
It’s nearly impossible to narrow down, but one of my favorite memories from the stage happened this October while on tour with Colter Wall. For the better part of the tour, Corb Lund – a fellow Western Canadian (like Colter and I) – was also on the road with us. I grew up listening to Corb on the radio back home and later discovered Colter as a teenager. Their songwriting resonated with and influenced me deeply as a young writer and continues to today.
Colter kindly invited us to join him in singing “Summer Wages” by Albertan cowboy legend, Ian Tyson, for his encore during tour. The first night that Corb joined us on stage, he took me by the arm for a two-step during the instrumental – much to mine and the crowd’s surprise. (Sorry about scuffing up your boots with my two left feet, Corb.) It was such a wonderful, full circle moment to be on stage beside two artists from home who had such a huge impact on me and singing a song together by a late legend from home who has impacted all of us.
Further, Patrick Lyons, the producer of my EP, Purple Gas, plays guitar in Colter’s band. Another reason that made these memories of singing “Summer Wages” special was it being the first time(s) I was lucky enough to share a stage with Pat as well as all of the other boys in the band, who I’ve come to know and love not only as musicians, but as friends.
Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?
I love to spend time out on the prairie. It has an understated beauty that with every passing year becomes more and more striking to me. It is unforgiving. Seemingly never-ending. In tune and knowing. It’s seen my own blood, sweat, and tears and that of generations of people that I love, alike. I’ve never felt closer to God than I have out there, all alone. Being raised in a prairie town, around prairie people, the landscape and all that results due in part to it, has defined my life experience thus far in an immeasurable way – and consequently, impacted my work just as deeply.
What’s the most difficult creative transformation you’ve ever undertaken?
While I’ve been feeling incredibly inspired to write in the wake of releasing my first recording project, I think I am simultaneously in the midst of one of the most difficult creative transformations I’ve faced so far.
All of the songs on my debut EP were written during a very different time in my life; before I’d ever been on tour, or set foot in a studio, or before the music industry began revealing itself to me behind the thick veil of mystery that once clouded it from my gaze. I was working blue- and pink-collar jobs such as bartending and doing farm labor before eventually putting all of my cards on the table and giving a career in music an all-or-nothing go, starting with the regional music scene in Alberta. Those years, age 18 to 20, were raw and electric, reckless, trial by fire. I was full of piss and vinegar, stubbornly tuning out the expectations others had of me and striking out into the world for the very first times to try forging a path towards something more for myself in life. I confronted some shocking losses and also experienced those first great formative loves you do at that age. Environments and emotions that are natural recipes for songs.
My day-to-day life has pulled a complete 180 since those songs were written. I have a lot of writing to do from my new pair of boots. I haven’t been able to take them for many test drives behind the pencil while on tour this spring and summer and am waiting with bated breath for the winter, when I’ll get to sit down and really dig into writing and processing the last year. It’s in my nature to always want to step above the bar I last set for myself – it’s as nerve-wracking as it is exciting to be starting to write for the next project. Especially now that most of the surroundings and life circumstances that inspired the songs on my first project are no longer part of my daily life on the road and there is now a recorded precedent set that didn’t exist at the time I wrote the songs on my first body of work.
What is a genre, album, artist, musician, or song that you adore that would surprise people?
“Good Luck, Babe!” by Chappell Roan (of course!)
If you didn’t work in music, what would you do instead?
I would probably be a ranch hand. Ranching is humbling, creative, and requires your all – mind, body, and soul. You have to live and breathe it. I can’t do anything halfway. For two jobs that, on the outside, look as though they couldn’t be any more different from each other, I’ve found a surprising number of parallels between my experiences working on a ranch to working as an artist.
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Photo Credit: Christian Heckle
