Artist:Jamie McDell Hometown: Mangawhai, New Zealand (currently Toronto-based) Song: “Worst Crime” feat. Robert Ellis Album:The Botox EP Release Date: October 25, 2019
In Their Words: “‘Worst Crime’ was inspired by a conversation surrounding the idea that some of the worst crimes a person can commit are actually the legal ones. Phil Barton, Nash Chambers, and I threw around some of the everyday mistakes a person can make that can really hurt people. With that idea in mind I started off with the first lyric about forgetting your mother’s birthday and then we all basically made a list from there. After recording the demo Nash and I got the feeling it would be an interesting duet, especially if a male voice represented the victim. Top of my list was Robert Ellis. I’d been a fan for years and as a lot of these relationships begin in the modern era we were ‘Instagram friends.’ I messaged him and he said yes! He recorded his vocal in Fort Worth, Texas and completely brought a unique dynamic to the track.” — Jamie McDell
“I think Jamie is super rad. Her voice is unbelievable and I love the song. I was really psyched to get to try and keep up!” — Robert Ellis
Artist:Donovan Woods Hometown: Toronto/Nashville Song: “Great Escape” (Acoustic Version) Album:The Other Way Label: Meant Well
In Their Words: “‘Great Escape’ is a song about wanting to be taken seriously. That feeling of starting a new relationship and hoping that your partner is taking it as seriously as you are. On the original record it was a pretty grand, sweeping thing, and here in its new iteration it’s much more contemplative and intense. I think this version better captures the mood of the idea and the desperation of hoping that you’re not just a lark.” — Donovan Woods
Artist:Tim Baker Hometown: St. John’s, Newfoundland Latest album:Forever Overhead
What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?
In late 2017 my former band Hey Rosetta played our final farewell shows before going on hiatus, and probably the final one had the most beauty packed into it I can remember being packed into any show before or since. We were a seven-piece sort of scrappy orchestral indie-rock band from St John’s, Newfoundland, that somehow managed to tour off the island and around the world and get awards and make records for 12 years and I have no idea how we did it but our hometown was very proud of us and good to us and the very final show was in the sold-out stadium there. It had so much emotion and love and nostalgia and significance around it that I don’t think my feet touched the ground the whole time, even though I had bronchitis and strep throat or some god-awful combination of classic touring lead-singer afflictions. I sang and played everything powered by 12 years of support and love and it is the brightest and biggest and best memory I have a show.
If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?
Listen, sing freely, think freely, listen, don’t be too hard on yourself, don’t be too easy on yourself, listen, work, play, and try to have it all help people and do good. By mostly listening.
Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?
As a Newfoundlander recently resettled in Toronto I spend a lot of time missing and dreaming of nature. And actually this impacts my work a lot. Several songs on this latest record are about moving from a place with easy, instant access to the ocean and the woods, to this grey and glass land of shadows and cars. About trying to get back home, whether literally, or to some forest from our collective past.
Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?
Well, as a man with a lot of dietary restrictions these days I may be more excited about the dream meal than the company, but I would love the most to sit down with Leonard Cohen himself and eat a grilled cheese sandwich, followed by some handmade raviolis, and then some Montreal smoked meat sandwiches, all there around the corner from where he lived and wrote for so long. And then maybe some coffee and cookies and a walk through the mountain after.
How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?
You are always doing this. Perhaps it’s a defense when your songs get too personal, or perhaps you don’t want to come off as a narcissist that alienates your audience, but yeah, you do this a lot. But actually it can be kind of nice when you listen to songs years later, when you’ve grown so far from that younger singer, and you feel that perhaps this kid is indeed talking to you, and sometimes even has something to say to you.
I think country music to me is about storytelling. I really tried to stay true to that on this album by making each song stand as its own story, while keeping the subject matter really personal. So anytime I’m singing one of these songs on stage and I look out in the audience and catch someone who’s singing along to the words or crying — that’s an incredible moment for me. Not just because they are reacting to my story, but because in that exact moment they are also sharing their same story with me. That exchange…there’s nothing like that in the world.
What other art forms — literature, film, dance, painting, etc — inform your music?
I grew up loving books, films and theatre. I think the iconography of old cowboy novels and Westerns clearly had a lasting effect but I also loved anything that focused on outcasts. Films by David Lynch, Gus Van Sant, John Waters. I always loved the villains or the sidekicks way more than the heroes.
What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?
I just always knew I wanted to be a performer since I was really little. I was a lonely kid with a huge imagination so I was always making something or singing or playing my dad’s guitar. Later I would train as a ballet dancer, work as a professional actor, go on tour playing drums and guitar in punk bands — no matter what I was doing I never considered anything other than performing.
What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?
It’s funny because I’m actually not a very technical musician. Every instrument I play, I taught myself and I tend to approach all art, even music, from a visual place. So oftentimes I can visualize what a song looks like, how it feels, how I want other people to feel listening to it, but it can maybe take me awhile to translate that into sound. “Hope to Die” took so many tweaks to sound like what I saw in my head, I think I probably drove the engineer crazy.
What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?
My live band usually goes out to warm up before me so I’m often the last one left to go on stage. It sounds kinda corny but I really try to take that time to focus on what the songs mean to me and to not feel too conscious about the performance. I think all the years of being a stage performer made me feel like I had to stifle anxiety or nerves underneath a performance and kind of put on a “show face” but I actually try to keep things a bit more connected now. I’m a lot more accepting that if I’m nervous or anxious — that’s just part of the show that night.
Artist:Abigail Lapell Hometown: Toronto, Canada Song: “Down by the Water” Album:Getaway Release Date: February 1, 2019 Label: Coax Records
In Their Words: “‘Down by the Water’ is a springtime song, so there’s a lot of imagery of renewal or redemption, and even some biblical symbolism, suggesting an escape to a better place — whether literal or metaphorical. The song evokes the idea of getting away somewhere isolated, away from the world, in order to rediscover your voice or calling — something that ultimately deepens your sense of connection to the world. Like a songwriting retreat!
“I love singing with Dana Sipos, who’s featured on this song and is an amazing songwriter — and people often tell us we sound like sisters, which is a bonkers compliment to me because she has one of my favourite voices of all time. We’ve toured together a bunch (including by bike and canoe) so we’ve had a good amount of practice singing on each other’s songs. For this tune we recorded live-off-the-floor in the studio, in a room together; no headphones or isolation, just a guitar and our two voices. So it’s one of the simplest arrangements on the album.
“This was my first time making a music video, and it was a really fun and surprisingly time-intensive process. It was filmed by Brittany Farhat at Union Sound Studios in Toronto, which is such a beautiful (and photogenic!) space, and I edited it very slowly over several months. Also featured in the video is Chris Stringer, my wonderful producer, who was one of a small team that started the studio — they built it literally from the ground up a few years ago. It’s also where I met my fiancé, while working on my last album there. So this video and location are particularly special to me.” — Abigail Lapell
It sounds like the start of a horror movie. A husband and father packs up the car with some clothes and a few guitars, bids farewell to his wife and kids, then drives deep into the Canadian countryside. He bunks at a friend’s country retreat, isolated from society, miles from the nearest human being. Or is he? Cue footsteps in the night, a dead bird on the doorstep, a shadowy figure barely glimpsed at the window. Perhaps there’s a death cult searching for the lost city of Ziox. Or some maniac with a pickaxe. Or some unnamed evil haunting the forest.
“It’s exactly like a horror movie!” laughs Michael Timmins, who is the man in that scenario and who write songs and plays guitar for the veteran Toronto band Cowboy Junkies. To pen tunes for their sixteenth studio album, All That Reckoning, he had to get out where nobody could hear him scream. “When I write, I have to be writing full time. As the years have gone by, it’s gotten harder and harder to do that, because I have more and more responsibilities at home. So I have to get away where it’s quiet, where I can sit around and think about nothing but songs. I have to get my head into it, so I have to isolate myself completely.”
He made it out alive, of course, but if All That Reckoning is any indication, the real horrors are the ones he encountered once he returned to society. An angry album whose outrage simmers coolly just beneath the surface, a thorny collection that ranks among the band’s best efforts, it chronicles a period of alienation, disappointment, fear, and paranoia. The guitars lurch and grind, the rhythm section lays out chunky, funky grooves, and singer Margo Timmins spits her brother’s lyrics with a strident combination of disgust and compassion. This is the Junkies in punk mode, decrying the hate and hostility that are scarier than any boogeyman.
“I’m not a protest writer,” says Michael, “but there are times in one’s life when the two collide. When I was all alone writing this album, I began to realize that the personal songs are little political analogies, and the ones that are a little bit political are really personal analogies. One feeds the other, and you really see how they cross. I felt like I was taking stock of what’s going on in my life and in the Western world, thinking about having to pay the price for a few things.”
Cowboy Junkies don’t usually traffic in dissent or social commentary; they’re better at documenting the personal than the political. Over the last thirty years they’ve crafted a sprawling body of work whose main subject is their own lives, their sons and daughters and wives and husbands and brothers and sisters. The band is rooted in their everyday lives, such that it feels more like an extension of family than a profession. “Margo and I are basically the same age,” says Michael. “We’re only about a year apart in age. We have our separate lives and things we go through, but when I write about something, she can relate that to something that’s happening in her world. And then she’s able to relate it to the listener by singing it, by giving it voice.”
It wasn’t always that way. After brief tenures in a punk group called the Hunger Project and an improvisational act known as Germinal, Michael Timmins and bass player Alan Anton returned home to Toronto, where they started a new band and eventually persuaded Margo to join as singer. Early shows were wildly spontaneous, with the band laying down a groove over which she would improvise lyrics or sing snatches of other songs. They covered old blues songs by Bukka White and Robert Johnson; they played “State Trooper” like Springsteen was an old bluesman himself. Released in 1986, their debut, Whites Off Earth Now!!, was a modest success, further entrenching them in the Canadian alternative scene but doing little to break them south of the border.
“Before anybody was listening,” says Margo, “we were just playing for ourselves—like all bands. You start in the garage or the basement or wherever, and playing music is fun. So you do a rock song. And then you do a country song, and then you do a blues songs. Nobody cares because nobody’s there.”
For their follow-up, they booked time in Church of the Holy Trinity in Toronto, claiming to be a Christian vocal band to allay any suspicions of sacrilege or heresy. The band recorded around a single microphone, capturing an ambience so strong, so distinctive, so immersive that the church becomes a member of the band. They reimagined “Blue Moon” as a eulogy for Elvis Presley, reinterpreted Patsy Cline’s “Walking After Midnight” as an anthem of urban paranoia, and most famously recorded what Lou Reed declared to be his favorite cover of the Velvet Underground’s “Sweet Jane.”The Trinity Session sounded unlike anything else at the time, and it pointed in new directions roots and folk music might travel: lo-fi, place-specific, history-steeped, atmospheric yet conceptual, beautiful and weird.
“What happens is you have any album like The Trinity Session and then suddenly everybody wants you to sound like that forever,” says Margo. “They want you to do that quiet album again and again. And we just couldn’t do that. We knew it would kill us. We’d get bored really fast, and it would be the end of the Junkies. We did it the way we wanted to do it, and we’re still here.”
After the misstep of 1990’s The Caution Horses—a little too clean, a little too slick—Cowboy Junkies proved themselves a deeply curious and extremely experimental band, one that had much greater range that previous releases had hinted. Black Eyed Man from 1992 is their country record, featuring songs rooted in Southern experience, some written by Townes Van Zandt (including a lovely version of “To Live Is to Fly”). They followed it up in 1993 with Pale Sun, Crescent Moon, a lowdown and occasionally abrasive album featuring guitarwork from J Mascis. There can’t be much overlap between John Prine and Dinosaur Jr, but the Junkies made it sound like a natural progression.
Since then they’ve largely forged their own path, never fully embracing or embraced by the roots community but also never feted as a major postpunk influence. Their most recent albums have been a linked quartet of experimental releases based on seasons of the year: One record was based on Michael’s experiences living in China, another gathered eleven Vic Chesnutt covers. Cowboy Junkies have reached a point where they can exist well outside the trends and slipstreams of contemporary pop, indie, and roots music, where they become a scene in and of themselves. Perhaps more crucially they’ve shown how a band might settle into a long career, enjoying a cult audience more than hit albums. They’ve shown how to make a life in music.
In that regard All That Reckoning is all the more surprising for how relevant it sounds, for how well it surveys our current climate, most crucially for how it suggests that the band’s defining traits—the quiet vocals, the erratic guitars, the menacing midtempo jams—are specifically calibrated to speak to this very moment. As Margo sings on “When We Arrive”: “Everything unsure, everything unstable.”
It’s not easy to write about these topics, but it can be even harder to sing about them. Before she even records her first notes, Margo road tests her brother’s songs, playing them in front of audiences, living with them so she can burrow into them, figure them out, and devise a plan of attack. For All That Reckoning she set up a makeshift studio in the ski chalet where Michael wrote the songs. “Often I don’t know what a song is about, and Mike won’t tell me. When he writes them, he just writes them. They’re mine to interpret and bring my life to and figure my way around.”
She has always been an imaginative singer, but these songs contain some of her best and most precise performances. The disgust in her voice on “Missing Children” is palpable, as is the disdain on “Shining Teeth,” but she sings “The Things We Do to Each Other” as matter-of-factly as possible, as though the lyrics were self-evident, as though a little compassion might help the lesson go down easier.
“Mountain Stream” plays like a record skipping, Michael’s guitar jangling like a pocketful of ill-gotten coins and Margo sounding hazy even though she’s relating a very grounded story about a king surveying his crumbling kingdom. “I wanted to sing it like… you know when you have a dream and you wake up the next morning and you tell somebody about it? You’re telling it in that kind of confused, almost stilted way of talking? You’re shaking your head going, I was here and I was there and then this dog came along. I wanted to sing it in that bewildered sort of way. But it eluded me. I don’t think I got it.”
Perhaps not getting it, perhaps hitting just off the mark, is what gives the song its haunted quality, as though nothing quite lines up, nothing quite makes sense. Everything unstable, everything unsure. “There’s something weird out there, something undefinable,” says Michael, pinpointing the album’s appeal. “We can’t really define it or figure it out, but it’s been out there forever, and for some reason it seems to be getting more common, more present.” The Junkies stare it down on All That Reckoning and they never flinch.
Artist:Wild Rivers Hometown: Toronto, Canada Latest album: Eighty-Eight Personal nicknames (or rejected band names): Wolf Island, Chancey Shoegaze (Andrew’s guitar pedal obsessed alias), Cortez the Killer (Khalid’s wannabe cowboy persona)
What other art forms — literature, film, dance, painting, etc. — inform your music?
The primary influences that inform our music are really our musical heroes. Many of the songs I write come out of listening to some piece of music, getting inspired by one part of it and examining and working around that. Film and TV are other inspirations that I think find their way into the songs. I’m intrigued by movies and TV that examine a specific character. There are so many movies right now that do an amazing job of showcasing a complex, flawed character, while allowing the audience to empathize with them. I think a lot of songwriting is doing just that, telling a story while unapologetically showing both the good and ugly sides of it. — Khalid Yassein
What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?
There have been many tough times writing songs. Not so much in an emotional sense, often the most difficult songs emotionally songs are the easiest for me to write. A lot of times in the last few years we’ve written songs where one part of it is really strong, so writing the rest of it to live up to that standard can be exceptionally hard. I’ve got some songs that have been in the works for a few years now, and you can absolutely hit a wall. It can be a lot of frustration, and sometimes 90% [of your time] can be spent toiling and thinking, and then in the span of a few minutes it suddenly becomes perfectly clear what you have to say. It’s about persistence and trying not to put too much pressure on what should be an organic experience. — KY
What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?
We start every show with an off-stage huddle. We get into a circle, and whoever is feeling the most energetic will say a few words to pump us up. Then we count to 3, bonk our heads together and say “team!” It sounds pretty ridiculous, but it really gets us focused and in tune with one another. We haven’t developed many studio rituals yet, other than consuming lots of coffee and making Khal drink some whiskey when we want him to sound more raspy. — Andrew Oliver
Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?
Living in Toronto, we experience the extremes of each season. From harsh winters to hot summers, and the beauty of mild springs and falls, it’s easy to be inspired by the changing landscape. Having distinct seasons also allows for memories to be tied to a specific time of year. I think this definitely informs my songwriting, as it creates a sort of nostalgia associated with each season. I know I definitely write more sad songs in the winter when I’m longing for a little sun. — Devan Glover
Getting away to spend time outside of the city is something we all love to do. Clearing your mind by spending time in nature can be very therapeutic, and always helps to put me in a creative headspace, so it probably indirectly informs a lot of my music and writing. Sometimes when I’m feeling stuck creatively, I’ll drive up to my cottage for a change of scene. — KY
How often do you hide behind a character in a song or use “you” when it’s actually “me”?
I usually write in first person, but I don’t think I’m fooling anyone with a sneaky pronoun change. If you think switching up “I” and “you” is going to protect yourself you’re probably in the wrong business! Most of our songs are really about us and our lives so we have to accept being vulnerable in a very public way. It can be difficult and scary but I think people can tell if you’re being authentic or if something is contrived. Some of my favourite writers say things in songs that are so raw and unashamed, and it’s incredible. Those are the lines that stick with you forever, they make you feel something. — KY
In their words: “My favourite music comes from watching ‘working bands,’ bands that play all the time—they get tight musically and stay loose in spirit and approach. The music presented is a deliberate statement but there’s a real spontaneity in the details. Therein lies the aesthetic for Queen City Jubilee, the culmination of three years on the road since Coffee Creek came out. We had a ball putting this record together, writing a lot of new songs, unearthing old obscure gems, and generally trying to stay out of the way of the music. And check out the artwork! Done by our very own Frank Evans, it offers a rare glimpse into the dark mind of the contemporary bluegrass banjo player.” — Adrian Gross
Toronto touts itself as the diversely beautiful, densely populated Canadian culture center. It’s probably no coincidence that, in the age of Trump, the city’s current marketing campaign highlights their inclusiveness in the form of the slogan “The views are different here.” It’s not just marketing spin: In fact, 50 percent of the population was born outside of Canada, citizens speak more than 130 languages, and the city government publishes information in 30 languages. Often called “Canada’s Downtown,” this business, media, and sports hub boasts a population of 2.8 million, making it the fourth largest city in North America.
Getting There
A new airport rail link makes getting from the airport to downtown Toronto a quick 25-minute ride. Because Canada always seems to get it right, the city’s public transportation is top notch, so you won’t need more than a TTC card while you’re visiting to hop on and off of their subway, bus, and streetcar system.
Where to Stay
If you want to stay in the heart of the action, the über-stylish Le Germain Hotel is a good choice. It’s located in downtown on Mercer Street and not too far from the airport. Cambridge Suites Toronto is also centrally located and close to St. Lawrence Market. If you’re going car-less, which is definitely possible, staying close to downtown is your best choice. Toronto’s bed and breakfast game is strong, with more than 100 traditional cottages boasting award-winning gardens. AirBnb it in the charming villages of the trendy Bloor West Village or Cabbagetown, or stay in a uniquely Toronto experience: a Boatel — a boat bed and breakfast on the waterfront.
Eats & Drinks
Photo: Kensington Market by Tourism Toronto
The open-air market culture is a unique part of Toronto, and Kensington Market is not to be missed. It’s a multicultural area of about 10 blocks boasting cheese, spices, and tea shops which have been around for years. Try the sourdough at Blackbird Baking Co. and the cardamom/pink pepper/lavender kombucha at Witches Brew.
A quick 15-minute trip across town is another highly trafficked market where maple-flavored everything abounds. Named the top food market in the world by National Geographic, St. Lawrence Market is a 200-year-old traditional market with butchers, bakers, and farmers selling diverse fare. Be sure to try a peameal bacon (a uniquely Canadian treat consisting of pork rolled in cornmeal) sandwich at Carousel Bakery and homemade pasta from one of the artisans.
Photo: @Bar_Raval instagram
As for drinks, Bar Raval is a Barcelona-inspired, Gaudi-esque spot for drinks with locals, serving tapas displayed across the bar for you to smell and see before you order.
A multicultural population translates to a worldly food scene, where you can eat your way around the world in Little Portugal, Greektown, Chinatown, Little India, and Little Italy. Toronto is also very into izakayas, which are casual Japanese gastro pubs, and Imanishi is one of the best.
The Gaybourhood
Photo: Church and Wellsley by Tourism Toronto
Toronto was the first jurisdiction to legalize gay marriage in North America in June of 2003, so it’s no surprise that their gay scene thrives, centered around the intersection of Church and Wellesley downtown. A staple of the gay scene for more than 25 years, Woody’s is the most popular gay men’s bar enjoying popularity from appearances on Queer As Folk. El Convento Rico started as a safe haven underground club for lesbians and trans people who were persecuted and has featured drag shows for more than 20 years. Fabarnak Restaurant is a great brunch spot, plus it serves as a training environment for people with employment barriers to be guided by professional chefs.
For live music, head to the legendary Horseshoe Tavern, where the Rolling Stones played many impromptu concerts, or Massey Hall, which hosts BGS faves like Jason Isbell and Andy Shauf. Toronto has an impressive roster of musicians who hail from the area … Shania Twain, anyone?
The city’s architecture is exquisite. Be sure to visit the Distillery Historic District, housing 47 buildings from the 1850s which make up the largest collection of Victorian industrial architecture in North America. From the flat iron to city hall — which looks like a giant unblinking eye — Toronto’s architecture runs the gamut. Street art is encouraged by the city and can be seen in Grafitti Alley, the Kensington Market area, the Ossington Laneway, and on the Keele-Dundas Wall.
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