I hunt woodland caribou because it’s good meat and large enough to feed my family. Some families will devour one caribou in a few days – or even quicker.

With so much food insecurity in the North, I feel good knowing where my food came from and how it was handled. We like to share as much of the meat that we can with other members of our community. This kind of sharing is also a way of life for us here.

Skinning a caribou is not too hard, but takes practice. I’ve seen some men or women skin one in as quick as 10 minutes! It takes me anywhere from 20-30 minutes to skin a caribou with just a small knife.

Here is a timelapse video of skinning a caribou. (Warning – graphic content.)

The post How To Skin A Caribou In 20 Seconds appeared first on Midnight Shine.

I was shocked. Like many others, I just couldn’t understand what had happened. Why were these kids – they were kids, all of them – suddenly trying to take their own lives? It was devastating and it really bothered me. I didn’t know what to do, or how to help. 

I recall talking to others, trying to learn about the issue. It was extremely difficult trying to pry information from frontline workers due to the sensitive nature and confidentiality of patients and clients, but one professional did confess there over 30 attempts in the span of one month. Thirty attempts! That’s equal to one attempt per day! That was a truly startling number.

No one has the answers or knows how to deal directly with social issues, especially when it comes to remote places. Quite often the issues are complex and deep-rooted, stemming from intergenerational trauma that is not easy to heal. A lot of the social challenges quite largely get ignored because people simply don’t know where to start. This is especially true in Canada’s northern Indigenous communities, where adequate social and mental health resources are seriously lacking.

Even though I didn’t know what to do, I knew I had to do something. Being a musician and songwriter, the only way I could think of to try and help was to use my craft. So I wrote a song called I Need Angels. It tackles the topic of depression and suicide, while instilling hope with messaging about not giving up.

We chose I Need Angels for our debut music video, and a small video crew from Vancouver and Winnipeg travelled to Attawapiskat to shoot it. Being able to make this video in my community meant a lot to me, but I’m not going to lie – it has also taken a toll on my own mental health. I have to contend with my own challenges, because like most families in the north, we’re struggling, too. But I find it’s important and helpful for me to debrief and talk about what I’m feeling, and how all this affects me.

To be honest, I was reluctant to move forward with recording I Need Angels, because I felt it was a topic most people were not ready to talk about – especially people who have lost loved ones to suicide. But I’m glad I chose to move ahead with recording it, and including it on our third album, High Road, which was released last year.

With the release of the I Need Angels video in November 2018, and a lot of media interest in the story behind the video, I have had to talk about it many more times than I wanted to. Talking about it and thinking about it so intensely for several months has been tough, and often draining. There are times I wonder if I made the right choice to write this song and make this video, taking on such a difficult and sensitive topic.

And then at other times… I will receive an email or social media message from someone who has heard the song, or watched the video, and they wanted to write and say thank you. They wanted to let me know the song brings them hope, or has helped them or their loved ones in some way. At these times, it feels like the right choice, and it makes me proud to know that my music does make a difference.

The post A Song For Hope: I Need Angels appeared first on Midnight Shine.

Since there are no recording studios in my home community of Attawapiskat, I’ve had to create my own. It’s situated in my front porch, and ‘rustic’ to say the least. I spent four solid months writing songs here, sometimes up to 12 hrs per day. I didn’t know where this writing journey was going to take me, and working all alone with the music, it was difficult to know how well the songs were taking shape. It felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. Like I was writing a grueling final exam without knowing if I had the right knowledge to even pass the test.

Will it be well received by peers? By the industry? By Midnight Shine fans? Thoughts and doubts ran through my mind. At some point, I had to stop thinking about all of that, though, and just go with what felt right in my heart.

Once we started talking to producers and sending out demos, it was reassuring to know there were some amazing people interested in working with us. This lead to many exciting moments in the recording studio, and great relationships with people I’ve since grown very fond of.

John-Angus MacDonald from The Trews produced seven songs on High Road, at Jukasa Studios in Ohsweken, Ontario. We first came across Jukasa in 2016 when we were looking for a place to record the single Sister Love. Jukasa had a wonderful atmosphere, and in-house engineers Darren Magierowski and Jill Zimmermann were stellar. They worked extremely hard to pull off tight timelines, and made our time there feel special.

Darren ultimately lead us to John-Angus as a producer, and we found him to be down to earth, focused, and friendly. He brought so much to the recording process, and just when you thought he had run out of ideas, he’d pull something more out of his bag of tricks. It was an unbelievable experience working with him, and I learned a great deal.

John-Angus also brought some incredible musicians into the studio sessions, like drummer Chris Gormley (Daylight for Dead Eyes, The Trews). Chris had so much energy, the ideas were spilling out of him unlike anything I’ve ever seen. One quirky thing I noticed about him is that his socks didn’t match. When I finally mustered up the courage to ask what was up with his socks, he replied, “I never match my socks!” For no particular reason at all. Must be a drummer thing.

Jesse O’Brien came into the studio to lay down keys, and I was so impressed with the ideas he brought. It turns out that Jesse is one of the best keyboardists/pianists in the business, and tours with artists like Colin James and Tom Wilson. He’s in big demand, and we’re grateful he lent his talents to the album.  

We recorded two tracks at a second studio – The WoodShed in Toronto, which is owned by Blue Rodeo. Tim Veseley of the Rheostatics is the in-house producer and engineer over there, and he encouraged us to noodle around to find sounds and embellishments. Zach Sutton sat in on drums, bringing his positive presence and energy to the recording. Once the songs began to take shape I knew we were in very capable hands. I believe we ended up capturing something very special in Leather Skin, one of my favourites.

The Woodshed itself has a warm family presence, and was a fantastic place to record. I’ve been a long-time fan of Blue Rodeo, but never in a million years did I think I would ever be in their studio. Yet, there I was – coming all the way from the remote James Bay, to Blue Rodeo’s studio in the heart of Toronto. Thinking about that was quite surreal. 

When it came time to record vocals, Tim gave me a choice of microphones. I chose the one that felt best, and it ended up being the same mic that Jim Cuddy sings on. Maybe that explains now why the session felt so magical at the time, and why the vocals we laid down for Leather Skin and Words I Could Have Said ended up being some of the best vocals on the album. 

Last, but not least… my Midnight Shine bandmates Zach Tomatuk and Stan Louttit both brought their A-game – and more – to High Road. The album would not be nearly as cool without Zach’s slick licks on guitar, and Stan’s deep bass tones and whole lotta sexy. And Midnight Shine’s sound would not be what it is without these two. 

In the end, I couldn’t be more pleased with how High Road turned out. It was a long road to get here, and in many ways, a tough test. But it’s one I think I passed.

The post Third Album A True Test appeared first on Midnight Shine.

My youngest can already fish on his own. His catch totaled 45 fish, a mix of char and trout – impressive for an 11 year old! They both got to see how traps were set, which is something that has almost completely died off in James Bay. It’s important for them to understand the past to help them see the path forward. This trip only scrapes the surface of what their parents, grandparents, and great grandparents would have endured on the land.

My son-in-law and brother arrived shortly after we turned back because Jr. was too cold to continue tracking fresh moose tracks. “We got two bulls!” said my brother with much excitement in his voice. All of us were happy to have fresh meat, so we hurried off to gut and skin the kill.

It’s not easy skinning a bull moose, and it’s twice as hard in winter when everything seems to slow down from the cold. The hide is almost an inch thick in some places and your blade dulls quickly. If you’re not careful to wipe the blood from the blade before taking it to a file, the file ices up and won’t sharpen a blade.

We’re also working against short daylight hours, and a little boss who keeps yelling at us: “When you guys going to be done, and what’s taking you so long?” Sometimes Jr. lacks patience and understanding at his age, so we work our butts off to please him.

Working my butt off has become the story of my life – not only on the land, and at home, but also in my work as an entrepreneur, and in pursuing a career in music. This has not been easy. We have been working hard on the new Midnight Shine album, and sending tracks to a few industry people to listen to. We are excited by the new music, but I’m feeling frustrated by what a few prominent radio trackers said.

Don’t get me wrong, like every other band, I, too, would like to have commercial success.  But let’s face it, if you’re not Coldplay or some other superstar that everybody already knows, it’s very rare that you’ll ever be good enough for a radio trackers’ ears, or for commercial radio to put your music into rotation.

I often to listen to Apple Music’s rock playlist, called ‘The A-List’, carefully studying the production, arrangements and lyrics. I do hear a difference in sound and style between artists, but a lot of it begins to sound the same to me. Something else I’m very confused about is how crappy songs get into regular rotation on commercial radio. It’s like they play the same artists, over and over, no matter if the songs are good or not. At the same time, they don’t want to give new artists a chance. Guess I’ll never understand that whole world.

I’m trying desperately to fit into the industry, but can’t help but feel like an outsider. Maybe it’s all part of building the brand, paying your dues, and starting at the bottom of the totem pole.

I’m chomping at the bit for the music to really take off, but keeping a positive outlook and believing that good things are on the horizon. With the third album mostly complete, I feel good knowing that all the hard work will eventually come to fruition.

It’s been an awesome experience meeting so many people this past year and being in the same company as great musicians like Jim Cuddy, Dallas Smith and Sam Roberts, and NHL greats like Daniel Alfredsson and Troy Crowder. Experiences like this have really boosted my confidence, and remind me that slowly but surely, we are gaining ground.

Looking back now, I can see just how far I’ve come.

The post Survival: On The Land, And In Music appeared first on Midnight Shine.

In the days leading up to Bluesfest, I felt pretty good knowing that I’d come all this way from nowhere. My home is Attawapiskat, a remote community in Northern Ontario on the coast of the James Bay. Being in Attawapiskat makes you feel far removed from the rest of the world sometimes. It can be a tough place to live, and an even tougher place from which to launch a music career.

Landing the gig at Bluesfest, I couldn’t help but think… not too bad for an Omushkego (Swampy Cree)! I felt proud, and wanted to play the best show we could, on what would be our biggest stage yet. I remember the first time playing a stage that came close to the size of the Bluesfest City Stage. There was so much space around me, I didn’t know what to do with it. The other guys in the band all seemed so far away. It was a strange feeling, being exposed in front of a crowd like that.

One great discovery though, about professional stages, is that the sound guys and stage manager are top notch. They are right on cue with everything, which helps to ease the nerves. Working with a professional crew sure beats having to fashion up a mic stand with duct tape and a yard rake – something we actually had to do once, for a show up north.

Finally, Bluesfest weekend arrived. Arriving backstage at the festival site early on Sunday afternoon was overwhelming to say the least. There were buses and semis and vehicles moving about, and all kinds of people running around doing their jobs. We felt like rookies back there, but the staff and crew were so nice to us, and treated us like an important band. On that day, in that space, I suppose we were.

They showed us to our ‘greenroom’ – a trailer in the backstage area. We noticed the sign on a trailer just a few meters away: Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. They were going to be right there! It was hard not to want to wait around to see if we could catch a glimpse of them. But we had work to do.

Waiting backstage to do our sound-check… I couldn’t help but notice over on the side stage, a workspace full of guitars. There must have been 20 different guitars! I knew they belonged to Tom Petty, and I looked down at my only guitar – a J35 Gibson which I could barely afford to buy five years ago. I thought to myself, I wonder if I’ll be able to make it in this business and one day own that many guitars.

I would have loved to shake Tom Petty’s hand that day, and let him know how much he inspired me. When I was a kid, the jukebox in Attawapiskat had a Tom Petty song: Won’t Back Down. Any chance I got, I’d put my money in the jukebox and listen. It was a song of defiance, and gave me strength in some ways. It was also one of the first songs I taught myself to play on guitar.

We performed our best show for Bluesfest, and the organizers seemed very happy. So did the crowd, who clapped, cheered, and even shouted for an encore. We played in front of about 5000 people that day – our largest crowd yet. We had so much fun roaming around on the biggest stage we’d ever been on. I think we surprised a lot of people with our music and performance that day. We maybe even surprised ourselves a little bit.

Being from the far North can have its disadvantages in more ways than one. On the flip side, it has definitely helped shape who I am today. Knowing what it feels like to have very little can set you on a path of wanting more. It creates an insatiable appetite for kushki-ho-win (success). I’ve never been one to sit around and do nothing, and anytime I have extra time, I can’t bare it.

It’s kind of funny that colonizers once set out to break the Ininiw (Indian). Yet, by attempting to do so, they unintentionally created a hybrid Canadian who excelled – and excels – in Indigenous society, as well as in western society. Ultimately, we have learned to navigate the best of both worlds, which is now very helpful. Today, even more than ever before, I am driven for kushki-ho-win.

After our show, we enjoyed a special reception put on by Bluesfest organizers, and met many Indigenous people and leaders from the Odawa region. Afterwards, we sat back with our friends and family to enjoy Tom Petty’s performance. And what a show! I haven’t seen many concerts in my life, but if I had, I’ll bet this would have been one of my favourites.

As I watched Tom Petty playing up there on that gigantic stage, I couldn’t help but notice each time he changed guitars – the same guitars I had seen backstage. While we hoped to get the chance to shake his hand that day, we never did. And now with the news of his sudden passing, it would have meant even more to us, for that moment to have happened. But now, it never will.

I’m sad to know that the world lost Tom Petty. I’m also grateful that I once got to open for one of the greatest musicians of our time. It was an experience I’ll never forget.

The post Dream Come True: Opening For Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers appeared first on Midnight Shine.

As a boy in Attawapiskat, I started playing hockey in net on the outdoor rink – I wasn’t a good player and my skating was choppy, so I got thrown in net. The school would collect donated gear from the south and we each got what we could grab. My goalie pads were from the 60’s era, old faded brown leather pads, a glove and blocker. I only had a flimsy back-catcher chest plate for protection, and recall feeling intense pain after blocking each shot. One day I decided to reinforce the plate with layers of tape and cardboard and that seemed to do the trick.

We shared the rink with the older boys and men, and once you were in full gear you weren’t allowed to leave. The older boys would keep us in net, then the men would fire slapshots at us during their warm-ups. Then we’d stay in net for their game. By the end of the night my toes were numb from the cold -40 weather and my little body would be aching from all the shots. I’m not sure why I played in net all those years because I would describe the experience as painful! So my time in net was brief for obvious reasons!

I later became a player, and spent most of my hockey years skating backwards on defense, with a brief stint as a winger. I swear I owned all the books on hockey instruction, hockey plays, mental toughness, training, conditioning, skating, it became an obsession. Any coaching I did get was from the parents, and it wasn’t very organized. Most of the time all I could hear was yelling.  

Because of my remote location (Attawapiskat is a fly-in community off the coast of James Bay) no opportunities ever came my way to play organized hockey, You’ll be glad to know that I made it all the way to the Attawapiskat Bush League! I did play a few seasons in Hinton, Alberta, for the Hinton Heat in the NCHL Sr. AA League – the highlight of my hockey experience, I suppose. At the age of 32, I finally got to play competitive hockey for the first time. 

It wasn’t easy getting my first taste of real hockey. I was nervous, because I’d never played contact before. The first game was much harder than I expected, and my heart was pounding when I was on the ice. I felt like I had no time to make a play. I got the snot knocked out of me that first game, but it was well worth it!

The coach was very encouraging, and had to keep reminding me that it’s okay to bodycheck. Any free time I had, I’d go to the rink and practice. Playing indoors was a real pleasure!  I wanted to improve my game, and feel like I was finally able to do that.

Today, I mostly play the odd pick-up game and tournament. My sons are not that interested in hockey, although my youngest is beginning to show more interest. One of my favourites things to do is stickhandle on the backyard rink. I’ve been doing that for years. It’s a real stress reliever for me, and kind of therapeutic I’d say.

As for the JUNO Cup, I’m excited to be on the ice with other musicians, and former NHL players, and see how I measure up. It’ll be a challenge I’m sure, but I think I’m ready for it. 

NOTE: The JUNO Cup is an annual celebrity hockey match in support of MusiCounts. The puck drops at 7:30pm at TD Place in Ottawa, on Friday, March 31. Hope to see you there!

The post The Good Ol’ Hockey Game appeared first on Midnight Shine.

Attawapiskat has been struggling with the suicide crises, and that’s only one issue among multiple problems that exist here. These issues are deep rooted and have been around for as long as I can remember, and have only gotten worse in recent years. But, we’re doing everything we can to change as a community. Today I witnessed something very encouraging, the youth committee meeting with Chief and Council to discuss a plan to deal with the issues. An understanding was reached and they are working closely together on a strategy to move initiatives along.

A month ago I felt compelled to do something, but didn’t know how to help. Besides, who am I to try to solve this very complex issue? So I decided to turn to music and invited ArtsCan to come do some workshops. I had no clue what to expect, and it was amazing to see the kids coming out to sing, and see the process of music production. We laughed, made music, and expressed ourselves through this beautiful art-form. I believe we accomplished what we set out to do, which was to inspire these kids, and show them that anything’s possible.

My highlight was when the kids were asked what song they wanted to sing, and they said James Bay. I couldn’t believe it! Of all the great artists and songs out there, they chose one of Midnight Shine’s songs. This really touched my heart, and words can’t begin to explain how I felt that night. Today, I’m happy to share with you Attawapiskat’s recording of James Bay:

The post Connecting With Youth Through Music appeared first on Midnight Shine.

Weather has been wonky too. Most of this winter was mild and I don’t recall one snowstorm at all. I guess you can’t always have perfect conditions for the spring hunt, but it certainly makes things better.

Our trip into hunting camp took two days of travelling by snowmobile – three snowmobiles to be exact – along the west coast of James Bay on sea ice. It was a pretty uneventful drive, except for my eldest son who is 12 becoming ill the first day. But we continued on, and finally made it to our destination!

Our camp is the furthest from the village, many miles north on the Opinnigau River – the traditional territory of my family. I’ve been going there since I was a teenager and can’t get enough of it. Knowing you are the furthest camp from home can be a little nerve-wracking at times, but I have faith in the Creator. He is our protector and gives us strength and courage.

The kids had loads of fun. They got to shoot geese, experience world-class trout fishing, snare rabbits, and a whole whack of other things. It made me feel so proud, watching them grow into the little hunters they are becoming today, and knowing that I have been their teacher. When did I become the Elder?? It feels strange to now be the one teaching others. The transition was seamless because I don’t remember how I became a teacher.

I have mixed feelings about this and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because most of my Elders have already passed on. I really do miss them and the stories they shared with us. My hope is that I can live up to their expectations: keep practicing my culture, taking the kids out on the land, using my language, and respecting and acknowledging nature.

I am forever grateful for the little things in life, especially clean drinking water – something most Canadians take for granted.

I’m also grateful for the ability to go hunting every spring and fall. That means the world to me, my family, and community.

In the North, it’s our way.

The post Spring Goose Hunt appeared first on Midnight Shine.

But times are changing. Many people are fleeing south for a better life, winters are getting shorter and our world is melting around us. This threatens the James Bay Cree way of life. As a young man, I could hunt by snow-machine along the James Bay’s west coast until mid-may. These days, we’re lucky to have sea ice safe enough to travel on in April.

I think today, the James Bay Cree have the best of both worlds – one foot in the past and one foot in the here and now – and must take full advantage of this. Preparing for the winter months in the far north is a lot of work; we must fill our freezers with meat and fish for the coming cold months and make sure we have enough firewood to last. Waiting for freeze-up is the most difficult time for a remote community in the north, but once the land is in a deep freeze, it ends the isolation for its inhabitants. People can visit relatives in other nearby communities. We can harvest fish, caribou, rabbit, partridge, trap for furs, and roam free.

Not everyone prefers to live the old ways. With Attawapiskat being host community for Ontario’s first diamond mine, many of our members are now turning to employment and business opportunities that the mine offers. While the mine itself brings us very little benefit, it gives our members a chance to make a decent living.

It’s difficult to know what lies ahead for us, but I know for sure we must ensure the survival of the culture.

The post Winter In James Bay appeared first on Midnight Shine.