Tag: toronto

What’s the Magical Chemistry Behind Twisted Pine? It’s ‘Love Your Mind’

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Love Your Mind, the new album from Boston/Toronto-based band Twisted Pine, is a delicious exploration of joy, growth, and self-love, packaged into tight grooves and soulful vocals. The quartet – which features Dan Bui, Kathleen Parks, Anh Phung, and Chris Sartori – is beloved for its genre-bending approach to acoustic music; they continue to defy expectations with their mandolin, fiddle, flute, and bass instrumentation.

What I noticed most about this new record, besides its refreshing positivity (in this economy?!), was the seamlessly collaborative sound. In discussing this in a BGS interview with the entire band, they explained that they’ve taken these past years to hone their collective voice as a group. With this new album, they felt that they had found that voice.

Together, we all agreed that the name “Twisted Mind(s)” might be more appropriate for the band at this point. Below is our conversation, where we cover Love Your Mind and the joy within it, the inspirations found in jamming, how flute fits in at bluegrass festivals, and so much more.

I love the amount of joy and uplift that comes through this album; it’s rare among Americana albums in this day and age. Is that feeling something that the band gravitates to organically? Or was it a choice you made specifically about this project?

Kathleen Parks: I think that happened pretty organically. Some of the songs started coming out of the post-COVID era. “After Midnight,” for example, was written after the first Ossipee [Valley Music] Festival in person after the pandemic and I tried to capture the joyful feeling of being around each other again. … Some of the album started in that appreciative state.

Dan Bui: I would add that throughout the album some subjects are a little bit more somber – there’s a theme of personal growth and learning through hardship and dealing with things like anxiety, making mistakes, and learning from them – but it’s always viewed through a positive lens, and musically, certainly, it is more of an upbeat fun vibe. That’s what we try to put out into the world and bring to our shows in general.

I love that song, “After Midnight (Nothing Good Happens).” Can you tell me more about that one?

KP: I was deciding not to party one night and [was] walking to my tent … listening to the roar of fiddle tunes and good times being had. I was like, “Oh my god that sounds so fun, but I also have two sets to play tomorrow.” My dad used to say that title phrase to me as a kid. He was also a musician who toured a lot so I always thought, “Cool people stay up super late.” My dad was like, “No, nothing good happens after midnight.”

Your fans have been starving for a new Twisted Pine record. What have you all been working on in the four years since your last release?

DB: Releasing our last record [Right Now] in 2020 was a huge challenge. We had to pivot and we weren’t able to do what we wanted to do, performance-wise, for a couple of years. So by the time we were able to get out there, we kind of went “all in” on touring and working on our live show. Before the pandemic, we had only really been playing with Anh for a short time, about six months. Since she lives in Canada, it was impossible to get together in person for a very long time.

Chris Sartori: Even getting into the studio with Anh for Right Now, it felt like we were just starting to figure out how that might work. These past couple of years have been really about ironing out the sound we had envisioned as a quartet and getting it to a place where we could write for that sound.

Anh Phung: It felt like with the 2020 record I was injected into a band that already existed, but Love Your Mind came from a place of more foundational collaboration. I was truly a part of the band before we got in there and recorded.

KP: I also feel like on this new album we had more time to discuss, “How do we want this song to sound?” We brought in players like Ethan Robbins, Ali McGuirk – just because we could. We had time and space and we weren’t being rushed into anything.

I also wanted to ask you about the “A Beautiful Phase (90’s Song).” Is it a ’90s song to you? Or is it just referencing nostalgia for the ’90s as “a beautiful phase”?

KP: For some reason, it ended up in the voice memos with that title. For me sonically, it very much has a “Bitter Sweet Symphony” vibe and I always see chrome when I sing it – that really, really specific blue chrome color, which I remember as a child.

Yes! I had that nail polish!

KP: Yep. It’s kind of looking back on a younger self, talking to a younger self. … For me, it’s about the missed opportunities with being a musician. You miss a lot of time with your family or family events [and] the song is almost apologizing for that.

DB: That song was one of the more collaborative ones. We had these early writing sessions at Kathleen’s where we got together and just jammed to see what came out. … There was this one section that turned into the chorus of that song. At one point, Chris and I were sitting around and decided, “Let’s just build this around this moody section.” We worked with that and kind of introduced a verse and this idea of having it modulate to a bunch of different keys. We roughed out a structure and that was what the lyrics were written over. When we went into the studio it was fresh – a lot of choices were happening in real time. It was cool to have it just come together like that.

Do you write a lot from jamming?

KP: It is a mix of jamming and melodic ideas. The final product is usually the outcome of playing the song down with a lot of different grooves and ideas, seeing what fits, and what we can pull off.

DB: One example is “Green Flash.” Kathleen was playing this 12-string electric guitar and this melodic idea kind of popped out and we decided to make something out of that sound.

That song also features Jerry Douglas. How did that happen?

KP: We had seen him at Earl Scruggs Music Festival and he said, “If there’s any way I can help, just let me know…” So, when that song started coming together, we were like, “We should ask Jerry to be on this!” In the studio we made this video asking if he would play on this song and sent it to him – and he said sure!

AP: Jerry has the exact style for it. I feel like the tune has the vibe of Strength In Numbers, so he fits perfectly.

OK, this question is specifically for Anh: What has your experience been like being the “flutist at the bluegrass festival?”

AP: Honestly, by the time I was playing with Twisted Pine, it was a pretty soft landing, because a lot of the work building my credibility in the scene came before that. Even going to IBMA, I was expecting a lot of pushback, but it has been pretty shocking how welcoming people have been. I think the initial expectation was pretty low. People were skeptical of how I, playing a flute, would work within this band, so when they hear it and it’s going well, it has even more of an effect!

Can you tell me about the actual recording of the album?

DB: I think a big part of the sound of the record should be credited to our co-producer, Dan Cardinal. We have worked with Dan on every record that we’ve done and he’s just someone who understands what we’re going for. He does a great job at capturing the organic sound of our instruments, but is also very creative and able to augment the sounds of our band … subtly and sometimes not so subtly. His choices make the recording sound a little bit bigger, wider and deeper. He was really valuable in that way. A lot of the songs were new, still being worked out, and he had some great third party observations.

KP: He’s good at placing sounds so that you feel them, but you’re not suddenly met with this random out-of-place soundscape in an otherwise acoustic recording.

That’s something I loved about the record. Even though you’re genre-bending, the sound is still so acoustic, where I imagine it would have been easy to add drums and synths, etc. Were there specific records you were referencing for production?

CS: I think each track has its own inspiration. Like “Start/Stop” is very Motown, “Chanel Perfume” is going more for an Aretha “Rock Steady” thing; each track we approached as kind of its own world.

Okay, last question, what does the title, Love Your Mind, mean to you?

CS: That sort of reared its head after we were finished recording and [after] looking back at what themes had emerged. We kind of identified that as a common thread that ties the record together, even though sonically it goes in all of these directions.

KP: For me, it means that whatever state you’re in – dark or frantic – you have to just try to look at yourself from someone else’s point of view and love yourself completely through all the stages.

AP: This is kind of riffing on a different idea, but I also think of Love Your Mind as – it’s common knowledge that our band has been hard to identify genre-wise, and I think that even though this album has a mixture of genres the sound that came out of this album is kind of unified in the way that the four of us play together. Twisted Pine is the four of our minds together, so the magical chemistry is loving our minds.

(Editor’s Note: Want more Twisted Pine? Check out our Basic Folk episode on the group featuring an exclusive interview with fiddler Kathleen Parks. Listen and subscribe here.)

Photo Credit: Jo Chattman

On ‘Pathways,’ Julian Taylor Looks Inward Rather Than Outward

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Much like the songs on his latest album Pathways, the sounds swirling around Canadian singer-songwriter Julian Taylor on our recent phone call for BGS were also filled with curiosity, emotion, and the subtle, intrinsic tones of a modern world unfolding.

Walking the streets of his native Toronto, the introspective depths of Taylor’s voice and pure sentiments radiated in conversation were only complemented by the organized chaos of an international city in motion. Honking of taxi cabs at clustered intersections; the thrust of train cars on the underground subway; other conversations of varying degrees of volume in passing. And Taylor himself.

“Don’t the grass look greener on the other side/ but be careful of what you wish for could get left behind,” Taylor weaves through “Ain’t Life Strange.” “I see where I went wrong and all I could have done. There’s a fine line between a broken and beautiful mind.”

Those lyrics in particular speak to the long, arduous, yet bountiful road for Taylor. At 46, he’s spent his entire adult life in pursuit of creative fulfillment and stability in an often haphazard industry. In his tenure, Taylor’s seen the high-water mark and complete collapse of the music business – and then some.

Co-founder of 1990s Canadian alt-rock act Staggered Crossing, Taylor found himself in big meetings with even bigger record label executives. The band was signed by Warner Music Canada and earned some limited success before being dropped by the label not long after their debut album hit the streets.

From there, it became a DIY ethos at the heart of Staggered Crossing. But, after a handful of albums and plateauing popularity, the group split in 2007, ultimately leaving Taylor out on his own. But, he trudged ahead, even if he was unsure of his next move, whether personally or professionally.

Frustrated and burned out by the music industry, Taylor circled back to a beloved bar of his, the Dora Keogh Irish Pub in the Danforth neighborhood of Toronto. There he summoned the courage and energy to start an open mic night. With a stripped-down set of simply Taylor and his guitar, he quickly found this new path of intent and purpose for the music within him.

From there, it’s been this ongoing journey of self and of song for Julian Taylor. What has resulted is this soothing voice of determination and compassion pushing steadfast into this latest chapter of his sound and scope.

I was recently in Toronto for the first time and it felt like one of the most culturally and sonically diverse cities I’ve ever come across.

Julian Taylor: Yeah, definitely. It’s been that way ever since I was a kid. It was a real small town when I was born, but it’s just grown exponentially. The music thing has been extremely positive. People really do support each other and everything. Like, it doesn’t really matter where you’re coming from.

What does it mean to be a songwriter from Ontario and greater Canada? I mean, you have some of the best of the best. Gordon Lightfoot, Gord Downie, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen. The list goes on.

It’s an honor. I’m happy to be from here. You have the rich heritage that I have and the rich musical landscape that we grew up with. A lot of people don’t really know that so many of these artists, like the people that you’ve mentioned, are Canadian. We’ve had such an incredible influence on the world. I think a lot of that has to do with the cultural mosaic and landscape we live in. I mean, it is not easy to tour this country. And we sort of grind our teeth here a lot of the time. So, when you do that, it makes you a little bit more appreciative of any sort of accolades or any sort of impact that you may have on the world.

When I was reading your backstory, you must have been a teenager when you started Staggered Crossing.

Yeah, I was pretty young. When we first got signed, it was at the tail end of, I guess, what you would want to call the high-water mark. We didn’t get to really experience that. We experienced the very last little bit of it. And then the entire industry changed. I’ve seen it change so many times in my career. And I started when I was 16.

What was it that kept you going after Staggered Crossing broke up? Was it just this idea that, “Hell or high water, this is what I’m going to, no matter what”?

Part of that was it. The other part of it was encouragement. The fact that any of my songs resonated with anybody really was the main point. You’re like, “I’m going to do this no matter what, because this is my calling and this is my passion, this is my purpose.” But, when you have those things validated by other people? That’s just a huge gift. The fact that people would continue to book me and play my stuff on the radio or people would come to shows and tell me that my music meant something to them. With that kind of encouragement, it’s really hard to stop going.

With Staggered Crossing being signed and going through the motions of very large corporations, what were some of the things you took away from that experience you applied to your solo career?

I think it all happened afterwards, really. Not during that period of time, because afterwards we had to fend for ourselves. But, it was the first time that the do-it-yourself mentality was put into place. We didn’t even know what DIY was. I just ended up doing it because I wanted to get my music out there. I wanted to keep touring, to continue to create records. So, I did anything and everything I could to keep that happening. I learned a lot about the business, about promotions, marketing, and distribution. Basically, everything a label would do for an artist, I learned how to do it alongside my friends and we kept on pushing ahead. It was hard and also easy at the same time, because it was something I wanted to do. It certainly tired me out at one point in time. I was so disenchanted with music that I stopped and then I came back with a brand-new sort of outlook on it.

What does it mean to be at this juncture of your career and still be just as curious, and always mining for the next song, as ever?

That’s a good question, man. It’s really about the job and the task at hand. And the job is to document the human condition through my experiences. World domination is still on the back burner. [Laughs] As an artist, it’s about putting in the work and that work is really hard to do. It’s emotionally exhausting. It’s physically exhausting. But, at the end of the day, when you look at yourself in the mirror and think about it, “I’ve written these beautiful songs and they’ve brought beauty to people’s lives.” And these performances have brought beauty to both of our lives – not just theirs, but to mine. It’s a two-way street.

Where does that work ethic come from within you?

Maybe it’s the Jamaican side of me. [Laughs] It’s definitely a family thing. My family on both sides have worked so hard. My mom’s side of the family has sacrificed and worked so hard. And my dad’s side, who migrated [to Canada]. On my mom’s side, we were here to begin with. And my dad’s side, they came here with not a lot to go on, and discrimination and things like that. They worked their asses off and always told me I would have to work 150 percent harder than anybody else because of my background.

And have you?

From a very young age.

Do you find they were correct with that assessment?

Yeah, they’re still correct about that. And, I don’t really know how and when that’s going to change. There are more opportunities reported to people now that are minorities, but the reality of having to work that much harder is still a truism. That’s unfortunate. But, you know what? I dare to ask anybody from the minority to say that something hasn’t benefited them from that work ethic.

As you were trying to move forward after Staggered Crossing, you started this open mic at a bar in Danforth. Were you kind of circling back to where it all began and recalibrating things?

Yeah. I used to work at that same Irish pub in the Danforth. I was a bus boy and also a server. One day, some old guy came in and he was just so rude to me, so racist. And I thought to myself, “What am I doing? I’ve got to do something about this.” That was the catalyst that got me back into performing music. The proprietors of that establishment offered the open stage to me on that Monday to help me get going again. They’re some of the greatest friends I’ve got in this world. And it was funny because, after Staggered Crossing, I just couldn’t go on. I had tried so hard to “make it” and it was such an uphill battle. Pushing a boulder up a hill. I gave up and needed some time. And then when the open stage came back, it was a community thing. I rallied around people and they rallied around me. And it’s still a musical community out here in the city. It all comes down to community.

Why did you title the album Pathways?

Pathways felt like a journey. It’s been so long getting here, you know? I’ve got 12 studio records in my name and a couple of live records. I’ve toured extensively for the last 20 years. And this felt like a record that I needed to go inward, rather than outward. Some of my records are very contemplative of the outside world. And this one, I was contemplating my inside world – what was in my head, my heart and soul. Trying to battle through some of the things that go on in everyday life decisions and choices I’ve made. The pressure of the last two records and creating a new record was on me. I was feeling that and decided Pathways was a really good metaphor for where I was headed, where I’ve gone, where I’ve been. I’m not sure where it’s going to take me next, but it just felt like a nice walk in a cool breeze.

Since the 2020 shutdown, there’s been, thankfully, a lot more conversation in the music industry about mental health and physical wellness. Does that play into where you’re at right now?

It does, yeah. I think about it every day. It’s really hard to make it as a musician. And it’s really hard to be a human in this world. I’ll be the first to admit that I go through a lot of stuff in my head. I’ve never been diagnosed with a mental illness, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I have something. I feel it a lot, the pressure to keep making a living, so that I can keep a roof over my head and my family fed. I could walk away from music if I had to, but I don’t want to. I don’t know if that would make me happy or not.

But, when it comes to fiscal responsibility, that’s a lot of stress. And then, there’s the stress social media puts on us, where you get attacked for no reason by people who don’t even know you. Sure, there’s a lot of praise going on, but there’s a lot of the other stuff, too. And now everything’s sort of been put into the musician’s hands. It’s a bit of a mental dilemma. I’ve lost a lot of people this year and that was part of that as well. You know, it’s life. People think people in the public eye or musicians putting themselves out there have rhino skin and they’re superhuman — but we’re not.

Photo Credit: Robert Georgeff

Donovan Woods’ Thoughtful New Album Grew Out of a “Midlife Crisis”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Donovan Woods is not really the solid, secure man you might think you know through his thoughtful, deceptively soothing songs.

But he’s working on it.

“A lot of my songs are much more magnanimous than I am in real life,” said Wood, 43. “So I often am wrangling with that feeling of people thinking that I’m a very morally superior person, when in fact, the reality of me is not very close to that.”

Woods, a burly, bearded, soft-spoken Canadian who has been consistently releasing quality albums and touring since 2007 (except for the COVID years), recently released his new album, Things Were Never Good if They’re Not Good Now. It’s a typically solid offering from a writer who writes deeply personal songs, some of which work as mainstream country hits, like “Portland, Maine” for Tim McGraw.

Though modest and self-depreciating, Woods knows he’s come up with something special with “Back for the Funeral,” a song on the new album that captures the stage of life when the only time you see old friends is when one of them has died.

“After the service we’ll all meet up at the bar,” he sings. “Where my dad used to drink, now he just drinks in the yard/ And we’ll laugh about all the young dumb dreams we had/ And we’ll pretend we’re all only sad/ Because we’re back for the funeral.”

The song, written with Lori McKenna, is one of those that doesn’t seem like a new one. It feels familiar, like it’s always been there. McKenna had the title and it turned out Woods lived through the experience a few months earlier, when he returned home to Ontario to attend two funerals.

“Not all those details are exact, but I’m trying to get at that weird feeling of when you go home and you’re able to see it all at 30,000 feet for some reason, because you’re in the throes of grief,” he said.

In our exclusive BGS interview, we spoke about grief and mental health, poetry and Music Row songwriting, and more.

So I understand the new songs were influenced by therapy you underwent for your mental health. Is that true?

Yes. I’m as liberal as they come, but I think I still have this toxic masculinity in me. I do think that expressing need threatens my masculinity and it’s such a deep, ingrained thing in me. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I still do have those hang ups.

What kind of therapy did you have?

I had probably what would be considered a midlife crisis. … I felt like I was losing touch with my life slightly. I was unwell and I could tell [it was true] by the reaction of people in my life who weren’t particularly thrilled with me. I did some addiction therapy, I did some standard stuff and I did some couples therapy with my wife.

Like a lot of men, I wasn’t admitting when I was sad or when I was upset or when I was unhappy, because we love this image of this stoic individual that we’ve all grown up adoring — this unaffected, unflappable man. You’re trying to be that, because you think that’s the right thing to be for your family. I let that get away from me. I had become two guys, my internal self who knew that I was upset or hurt or I need something, and then this forward-facing person that I created, which was sort of a lie. I had to reunite those two things again, and I found it really difficult.

Your rather gentle singing sometimes belies the depth and the hurt in your lyrics. Is that an artistic choice you’re making?

That’s kind of just how my voice is. In the days before microphones, I don’t know that I would have been able to have this job. I don’t talk that loud or sing that loud, either. Singing is more like self-soothing to me than it is communication. I do it because I like it. It makes me feel good. When I’m stressed, I do it. It’s like being nice to myself.

Your lyrics are effective even separated from the music. Have you done any poetry or prose writing?

I appreciate that. My heroes are the people who are actually singing poets, like Paul Simon and John Prine. I feel like that’s what a singer-songwriter is at the core. … I will write poetry for myself now and then. I have tried to write short stories and I’m not good at it. I don’t know how to do long things. The idea that it can be anything is terrifying to me.

You must like Mark Cohn too, based on your cover of his “Don’t Talk to Her at Night” on the new album.

He’s kind of a high-water mark in songwriting for a lot of writers, especially men. There’s an elegance in his writing that is so unreachable to me. His American earnestness is not available to me as a Canadian. I always think I have to be self-deprecating or not showy in my writing. I think it’s just like the mindset of a Canadian. My dad is a big fan, and I have listened to him my whole life.

Do you have a family background that pointed you toward becoming an artist?

I grew up in a really working class town [Sarnia, Ontario], where everybody’s dad works in these petrochemical plants around the border of Michigan. My dad worked in construction estimating jobs. … My friends all work in petrochemical plants, or they work in adjacent fields to those plants. One of them is a chiropractor, which actually is adjacent to the petrochemical plants too, because everybody has a bad back in the entire city. … I was not a wonderfully artistic kid. I was given a guitar by my mom and I took like, four or five months of lessons. I just really enjoyed writing songs, and did it for myself for a decade before I ever did it publicly.

Is it true your dad named you after the folk singer Donovan?

I am. He’s one of my dad’s favorite singer-songwriters, along with Fred Eaglesmith. I got to tell [Donovan] that once, too. I’ve never seen anybody be less interested in something.

Do you still live in Canada with your family, or have you moved to one of the music industry cities in the states?

I have three kids. I have one ex-wife and my wife that I’m married to now. I live in Toronto mostly, and I’m in Nashville sometimes to write.

Do you do the Nashville writing thing where you have appointments and try to write hits with other writers?

I still have a publishing deal in Nashville, so I’m there writing sometimes with other people. I do it less than I used to, but I still enjoy that very much. I love other songwriters. It’s pretty rare that I don’t like a songwriter. So I enjoy that, that afternoon of trying to finish something.

And that’s worked out for you sometimes with hits, right?

There’s a song called “Grew Apart” that was a hit for Logan Mize. When somebody else wants to record one of your songs, that’s about as good of a compliment as you can get as a writer. It’s always really flattering. I hope [more of] that happens. … I mostly fail at writing Nashville songs. I fail like about 95% of the time.

You’ll be heading out on tour this fall to promote the new album. Are you looking forward to that?

I am always on the road more than I would like to be. But I’ve had much worse jobs. I enjoy 85% of it.

Photo Credit: Brittany Farhat

WATCH: Donovan Woods, “Back For The Funeral”

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: Donovan Woods
Hometown: Sarnia, Ontario, Canada
Song: “Back For The Funeral”
Album: Things Were Never Good If They’re Not Good Now
Release Date: July 12, 2024
Label: End Times Music

In Their Words: “‘Back For The Funeral’ is a story that a lot of us end up experiencing. Big life events – deaths, births, divorces – seem to pull us out of the flow of time somehow. The days around these events can feel like a dream wherein the regular rules of our lives don’t apply. People fall back onto old habits or maybe construct a new temporary-self to shield them from grief or shock. What I like best about this song is that it reflects that dream-like feeling without sacrificing clarity. It feels the way those life-dividing days feel. I wrote it with Lori McKenna and Matt Nathanson. I’m about as proud of it as anything I’ve written. I hope it’s useful to people.” – Donovan Woods

Track Credits: Written by Donovan Woods, Lori Mckenna, Matt Nathanson.

Acoustic guitars, vocal, piano – Donovan Woods
Synths, drum programming – James Bunton
Bass – Mark McIntyre
Strings – Drew Jurecka

Recorded in Toronto at Union Sound Company – Studio B, Small Dog Sound.

Photo Credit: Brittany Farhat

LISTEN: The Lonesome Ace Stringband, “May Day” (with The Andrew Collins Trio)

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Artist: The Lonesome Ace Stringband with The Andrew Collins Trio
Hometown: Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Song: “May Day”
Release Date: May 1, 2024

In Their Words: “Andrew and I wrote this tune together about 20 years ago. It was the first of May and we spent it in the sun, picking fiddle tunes, looking at flowers, and getting in the groove with the mycorrhizal network. This melody revealed itself to us in the early afternoon, setting the vibe for the rest of the day. I’ve always found this tune beguiling. It’s hard to put your finger on its mood; to me, it’s ultimately hopeful, but it has to go through a lot before it gets there! I’ve recorded ‘May Day’ three times now; each version is very different. I can’t seem to keep away from this tune! It was so wonderful for John and me to have the chance to collaborate with Andrew, Adam, and James on this release!” – Chris Coole, the Lonesome Ace Stringband

Track Credits:

Andrew Collins – Mandolin
Chris Coole – Banjo
James McEleney – Bass
Adam Shier – Guitar
John Showman – Fiddle

Video Credits: Edited by Chris Coole. P.D. archival footage filmed by Arthur Edward Pillsbur from the Prelinger Collection.
Photo Credit: Andrew Collins Trio by Andrew Collins; the Lonesome Ace Stringband by Jen Squires.

Rachael Kilgour’s Tribute to her Extraordinary Ordinary Dad

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Rachael Kilgour unravels the layers of her late father on the album, My Father Loved Me. Recorded in the cold of Toronto and produced by Rose Cousins (who also joins us for this conversation), this album carries the essence of Canadian roots and is a profound exploration of family heritage through the lens of an ordinary, hard working, and humble man who died in 2017. Duluth-born Rachael, and Rose, based in Halifax, reflect on their cold weather experiences, infusing the recording process with warmth despite the chilly Canadian setting.

LISTEN: APPLE • SPOTIFY • STITCHER • AMAZON • MP3

The core of our discussion revolves around Rachael’s deep emotional connection to the album, particularly her poignant exploration of the father-daughter relationship amidst the challenges of dementia. We navigate the themes of grief, death, and identity while learning about Rachael’s father, his impact, and how he continues to live on through Rachael’s personality and idiosyncrasies. They shared the struggle of anxiety and self-doubt, which the songwriter addresses on the album. We also get a look into Rose’s perspective on Rachael’s growth and the impact the vulnerable creative process has had on her songwriting. And then, we wrap it all up with a very fun Dad-themed lightning round.

Photo Credit: Sara Pajunen

BGS 5+5: Julian Taylor

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Julian Taylor
Hometown: Toronto
Latest Album: Beyond the Reservoir (October 14, 2022)
Personal Nicknames: JT

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

There are so many, but from a songwriting point of view, I would have to say Jim Croce would be one and another would be Bill Withers. I love both of their work, and, for example, the way that both artists have a conversational way of singing their lyrics to the listener. Withers is a little bit more funky, of course, and, like Croce, his vocals are right up front of the mix. Their lyrics are often stories that relate to people, and I just absolutely love their melodies as well.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

There are so many favourite moments on stage. Just being on stage fills my heart. The first time I ever stepped on a stage with my own original band was at a Battle of the Bands that took place at the famous El Mocambo in Toronto. That was a very special night because we won. We were about 16 years old at the time.

One other show that really stands out was when my band performed at Festival D’ete for the first time. We were scheduled to play an outdoor venue in Quebec City, and when we stepped on stage, there were literally 10 people in the audience, and by the time we were halfway through our set, the entire square filled up and there were more like 5,000 people watching the show. That was a huge rush and something I will never forget.

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

The toughest song that I’ve written thus far is probably “Murder 13.” It’s on the new record. I’ve been trying to write it ever since 2005, when the tragic loss of a good friend who was murdered took place. I didn’t know how to approach it. I had the chorus stuck in my head for a long time and was trying to write the rest of the song. Freeman Dre and another friend, Lonny Knapp, were able to come up to my lake house, and we started writing the rest of the song together, so it is a joint effort. I was really pleased about working on it with them, because it helped me find the confidence that I needed to restore myself in order to continue writing the rest of the record.

What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?

When I was dropped from my very first recording contract, I received a call from legendary blues musician and producer Colin Linden. I thought my music career was over. I am grateful to him because he told me that it was only over when I decided that was it. I decided not to throw in the towel back then, and I am glad I made that choice. Colin actually played dobro on a couple of songs on the new record.

Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?

I use a lot of natural elements in my songwriting and always have. Fire, water, earth, and air are prevalent in my work. I like to go for hikes just to be around nature and its quiet strength. It constantly provides me with inspiration. Nature just flows, grass just grows. Nature is an effortless and undeniable force. With my work I have always strived to be the same.

Photo Credit: Lisa MacIntosh

Basic Folk – Ken Yates

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Ken Yates grew up in the college town of London, Ontario and he is truly Canada’s Next Top Model, by which I mean he is wonderfully talented, disarmingly nice, and from Canada, obviously. Ken is a Berklee College of Music graduate, and I took the opportunity to talk with him about that experience. Why would somebody choose to go to music school, what were you hoping to gain, and what did you actually get out of it, are questions that are fascinating to me, and Ken’s answers were super interesting. One takeaway I learned from his stories of Berklee is that even some of the most talented musicians feel like they have no idea what they’re doing.

APPLE • SPOTIFY • STITCHER • AMAZON • MP3

Ken’s breakout 2016 album, Huntsville, earned him the Emerging Artist of the Year award at the Canadian Folk Music Awards. It was not just a huge and competitive honor, but it was also a defining moment where Ken started getting categorized as a folk artist.

Ken released a beautiful album, Quiet Talkers, in 2020, and instead of touring in support of that album, he had to do a bunch of covid-era online shows. I was impressed with how gracious and level-headed he seemed despite the crappy circumstances. This grace, perspective, emotional openness, and flexibility are a big part of what makes his new album, Cerulean, so special. Cerulean came out in 2022 and it bridges the gap between folk and indie rock, between skepticism and hope, between the pain of losing someone and the possibility of embracing what you have. Cerulean has a distinct groove, features vocals from Americana stars like Kathleen Edwards, Liz Longley, and Katie Pruitt, AND some of the prettiest production I’ve heard all year.

Photo Credit: Jen Squires

LISTEN: Julian Taylor, “Wide Awake”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Julian Taylor
Hometown: Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Song: “Wide Awake”
Album: Beyond the Reservoir
Release Date: October 14, 2022
Label: Howling Turtle, Inc.

In Their Words: “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. I deal with feelings of regret. I know that what I think about has a lot to do with my own happiness and the energy that I put out into the world. I know that I am perfect in all of my imperfectness, and that everything that has happened needed to happen exactly the way that it did. Who I am and where I come from means so much because of the struggle that it took for my family to get here in the first place. What I have done and where my thoughts and actions have taken me is important because it has helped shape who I am and who I continue to become. We are interwoven and we are all so fortunate to be a part of the universal fabric of life. When I look at things that way, I am so grateful for everything and for everyone who has ever shown me love. I can only hope that I have repaid the favor in some way.” — Julian Taylor

Photo Credit: Lisa MacIntosh

LISTEN: Matthew Barber, “No Singing or Dancing”

Posted on by Editor

Artist: Matthew Barber
Hometown: Toronto
Song: “No Singing or Dancing”
Album: No Singing or Dancing
Release Date: July 22, 2022
Label: Outside Music

In Their Words: “The title came from a proclamation by the city of Toronto sometime during the early stage of the pandemic in 2020 that temporarily forbade these activities at public gatherings. The starkness of this message really struck me and it immediately felt like the title of a song I had to write. Up until then I had been thinking about the lockdown as a medical matter — people were getting sick from a highly infectious virus and we had to avoid contact with one another. But seeing the words ‘no singing or dancing’ led to the unsettling realization that certain activities were more likely to result in spreading the virus than others, and the worst activities were the ones that my livelihood as a musician depended upon! I started to see the wider cultural implications and how they disproportionally affected cities. The city loses a lot of its appeal if you take away all the bars and restaurants and theatres and sports arenas. Ultimately the song is hopeful that this is merely a storm we have to weather and the singing and dancing and merriment will return. It seems to be, slowly, but some things will never quite be the same.” — Matthew Barber

Photo Credit: Ian Lake