Every September I eat slimy fruit on Highway 1
An On-Route cantaloupe love story
Dearests,
I write to you from bed with a cup of coffee close at hand. Much has happened since our last correspondence: I read Frankenstein, vacuumed under the couch, and clocked many hours at various beaches. Now, the leaves turn (parched, the poor souls), and a glassy chill descends on the morning.
In early August, I spent a week in Lunenburg as part of the Folk Harbour song camp. Nine of us got together and wrote more than 20 songs over the course of three or four days, and then we performed individually at the festival on the weekend.
Co-writing is an interesting way to work. Some people really come alive in the room, and their special sauce is activated in collaboration. Others prefer undiluted creative output, free from compromise and the obligation to translate or temper their vision.
I think it’s extraordinary when people come together to write something that none of them would be able to create individually. I don’t know if any of us will record or release what we wrote that week, which heightens the experience; making beautiful things for their own sake is my favourite.
A lot of those songs will only ever exist in the way they were played for the group, fresh and still quavering, newly sprouted like a bud after a long winter.
Tomorrow, my band and I are hitting the old dusty on our way to Sackville for Greenslades’ First Annual BBQ, where Keith Hallett and I will serenade the sizzling dogs, and then Quebec City for Saint-Roch XP.
Last September, I was on tour with Mo, driving the same highway, slurping down overpriced cut fruit at On Routes. I love the cyclical nature of this job: write, play, tour, repeat.
If you’re in Sackville or Quebec City, COME SEE ME! My SRXP schedule can be found here.
Happy Virgo season! xoxo