Hey all,
I’m on vacation this week and next, hence the delay in getting the Fridays with … column up. So, as a bit of a weekend bonus, I’m throwing up two great interviews, with Kev Corbett and Kyle Cunjak.
I can’t promise I won’t be late again this coming week, but things should be back to normal the week after. We have a lot of great Fridays with … interviews planned, and the usual crop of news and notes.
As always, thanks for your continued support. Please spread the word, and sign up for our Facebook group here.
Cheers,
Eric
Fridays with … Kev Corbett

Kev Corbett recently toured Canada.
Kev Corbett recently completed a whirlwind tour of Canada promoting his latest album, Son of a Rudderless Train, which was released last year.
Mid-tour, he fired us off an interesting e-mail painting a picture of his two-month, eye-opening journey. The Nova Scotia singer-songwriter had “the task and trip of a lifetime,” as he put it.
We caught up with Corbett this week where he shed some light on his recent experiences:
1. What are you up to these days, musically or otherwise? (Feel free to plug whatever you’ve got coming up.)
I’m decompressing from three months on the road, and sorta gingerly planning my next move. I left Halifax on March 8th, toured to B.C. and back by train over the course of two months, drove again to Vancouver with my partner for Jill Barber’s wedding, then back to Toronto where I met up with Stephen Fearing for a week’s worth of dates around Ontario, then home. I just got home a week ago, so now I’m putting a lot of work into figuring out a routine, reconnecting with my partner, listening to a large archive of old vinyl records I inherited, catching up on sleep, writing the songs that came up while I was out there, re-imagining my sound, playing drums and doing manual work to clear my head and save up some money for new gear and producing the next record. Not working, ironically, is turning out to be a lot of work.
2. How did you get into performing/recording your own music, and what was the first major lesson you learned once you got your feet wet in the ‘business’?
It was really a continuum. I trained as a drummer and really only ever wanted to be a pro sideguy, like the guys in Dave Letterman’s band, just versatile and nailing it every night. I did the waterfront cover band scene long enough to learn Crosby-Stills-type harmonies and hate everything else about it, and quickly ditched cover band school for playing in bands that did their own stuff.
There was a latin/jazz/funk project called Knifey Moloko, spent a year in Amelia Curran’s band, then took a position with a Francophone band called Blou, which toured really hard. It was 200 days a year of airplanes, and they got two ECMAs over the four years or so I was working for them. At first I loved the pace and I was proud of the work we were doing together; but in time I was feeling isolated, frustrated, and unfulfilled in the larger picture. I’d been writing a bit, just for my own purposes, and when I played some of my tunes for someone I was dating, she told me that those songs deserve to be heard and if I never played them anywhere I was an idiot.
I never had much ambition for the tunes as such, but the studio environment was a fascinating sandbox to imagine playing in, so I set about it, made my first record which came out in late 2005/early 2006, and then got invited to a huge songwriting competition at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival in Colorado. That was my first hint that I might be onto something. The more I experimented, the more people responded. I think songwriting is one way I process the world, and I think it plays into my pathological aversion to being misunderstood. Since then, for me, it’s been about finding my voice, finding my little tribe of colleagues and fans, and doing the work that I like.
Big lessons: I’d say they all come around to being true to oneself. There’s a lot of pressure to jump through stupid hoops, make focus-group music, be trendy, talk like a press release. The great thing about art is that you can choose your own boundaries, and let the chips fall. It’s empowering.
3. You recently completed a two-month cross-country tour by train and car. You sent an interesting e-mail our way that shed a little bit of light on your journey through Canada, but tell us what the trip was like for you.
It was the greatest adventure, like living in the movie One Week. I felt really lucky to be able to do it in the first place, and just tried to attend to all the tasks at hand — being easy to work with, doing a good show, advancing my places to stay and so on — while being as in the moment and openhearted as possible. I was couchsurfing a lot, and dealing with no downtime, even when I was alone on a highway. Some real highs and some real lows, constant wonder and through it all, I just had a huge job to do and I needed to keep on game. The mantra was: Enjoy this. This is just how it is and you’re the luckiest guy anywhere.
4. What was the most interesting thing you saw or experienced during the trip?
I was invested in the trip as kind of a beginning-middle-end process, but nonetheless I’d always wanted to deeply visit B.C., and I lapped that up with great gusto. I met a great friend in Vancouver, who had my back when I needed it most. I loved everything about Vancouver Island — my hosts in Victoria, old friends in Courtenay, the surfer culture and perfect tacos in Tofino, seven bald eagles circling at once in Ucluelet, the repeated wonders of Cathedral Grove. Wow. I’d long wanted to visit Nelson, and had it built up into a potential highlight, but it was ironically one of the screwiest, most painful gigs of my life. The rest of the lower mainland was stunning. I did a theatre show in Vancouver that was a lot of fun, capped it off with one on Salt Spring Island, and was simultaneously played on Valdy’s radio show there, which felt amazing. I went back to Vancouver, got a phone message that an uncle had died, and then had six days on the train to inculcate that before getting home for a week before leaving again to go back. At least on the second trip there, I could show my partner some of the things I’d seen. A large chunk of my soul lives there, I think.
5. What did you learn about Canada as you were criss-crossing it?
How really huge and diverse it is. The geographical fact is really cool: the way the rolling hills and mixed forest of the Maritimes gives way to the St. Lawrence river valley, gives way to the Great Lakes Basin, gives way to the Canadian Shield, gives way to the Great Plains, gives way to the Rockies. You really feel like you’re traveling. The people-diversity is amazing. Local food cultures are a lens through which I experience a sense of place, so things like Mennonite cream sauce on an Easter roast, or homemade elk sausages for breakfast, or a pemmican burger, or Okanagan wine, or borscht — all the things we don’t have much of here — these are gifts, ways that people say this is who we are. And especially when you’re staying at their house, you can only be grateful for the sharing. It engenders a larger sense of wonder and gratitude for the learning experience, a deep desire to make sense of it somehow.
6. On Son of a Rudderless Boat, you have a who’s who of guest musicians playing with you. What kind of an atmosphere does it bring to the recording process when you’ve got friends coming and going all the time adding to your project?
Again, gratitude. These are peers, many of whom I’ve known and worked with in various contexts over the years, so I’d ask each to come in for a part here or there, and it’d take two takes of the chorus or whatever and they’re gone. Some needed to be paid, most didn’t, and I’d move mountains for any of them regardless. It enriched the process for me, because whereas I’d performed 99 per cent of the first record myself, I can’t sing soprano, play trumpet, etc., and to hear those sounds is still exciting. Some people were game, but we couldn’t schedule anything that worked for them. Other people offered, but I couldn’t hear a part for them that made sense, in which case, I just listened to what they thought. Some people didn’t show up until the third try. It was a bit stressful, because I was on a real time crunch to realize all that I heard in my head, but in the end, it was going to be as it should. I felt like my community had my back, so you just try to pay it forward.
7. If you weren’t in the music industry in some capacity, what would you be doing today?
Tough to say, as I don’t have any other skill. Maybe food culture and/or some kind of trade. I’m a hopeless foodie and I worked in restaurant kitchens before it came down to a decision point. I like doing manual stuff, like farm work, and building things. I’m doing some work now with some friends of mine who own a food business that’s expanded ridiculously in the last year, so it gives me something to do while the tour songs come out, a pay cheque to start recording them when they do, and a nice feeling of helping my friends build their future up.
8. What song or album have you been listening to most lately?
Strict Joy, by the Swell Season. It just hits me where I live.
9. What’s the next thing you want to accomplish, musically or otherwise?
I think I just want to continue to grow. I think the rest’ll take care of itself.
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Fridays with … Kyle Cunjak

The Olympic Symphonium, with Kyle Cunjak at left.
Fredericton’s Kyle Cunjak is one of the busiest guys in the New Brunswick music scene. If I recall correctly, I first knew him as a photographer. Then I saw him play bass for David Myles and Jill Barber at a fantastic, low-key concert at a small gallery in Sackville. Later, we’d chat about his own bands, such as Olympic Symphonium or Force Fields (formerly Fussy Part).
Today, he fires press releases my way and drops me a line about not only his bands, but the many he helps promote and manage.
As you’ll see, Cunjak has a ton on the go. But I’ll let him fill you in …
1. What are you up to these days, musically or otherwise?
Presently I am working on:
- slowly mixing the new Olympic Symphonium album
- printing a photography show for exhibit in fall 2010
- slowly working on a Force Fields album
- bookings for Snailhouse, Sleepless Nights and Petunia
- trying to find funding for a few albums that need finishing
- gearing up for the release shows for David Myles’ new record
- helping run a label/management team out of New Brunswick
- learning how to cook Thai food
2. How did you get into the music business and what was the first major lesson you learned once you got your feet wet?
I got into the music business by necessity because there was little to no labels, managers, publicists, booking agents, etc. … in English New Brunswick and we had albums/artists that needed help.
3. What song or album have you been listening to most lately?
I’ve been listening to a lot of old country, folk and bluegrass: Bob Wills, Harry McClintock, Bluegrass Album Band. Have you ever heard the Louvin Brothers – Satan Is Real? It’s amazing. Also can’t stop listening to the few rough mixes from Mike O’Neill’s new album, which is going to be better than most things.
4. What’s your favourite way to waste time or relax?
Swimming. Pretty much my favourite thing in the world.
5. The Internet and social media are allowing artists to get closer to their fans than they ever were in some respects. What are your thoughts on this?
Totally fine, breaks down the barriers that once let rock stars get away with so much crap. Everything has been done by bands in the ‘70s and ‘80s, so when I see macho jerks in a rock band trying to act cool and do something “bad” it’s just depressing.
6. If you weren’t in the music industry in some capacity, what would you be doing today?
I’d likely be pursuing photography more actively. I’m not complaining though, having photography be strictly an artistic practice has given me a lot more freedom and peace of mind within the medium. I’m a huge advocate for film and every time I take on a commercial job and shoot digitally it gets me down.
7. What’s the most interesting thing you’ve learned recently?
The fact that Roger Miller did all the music for Disney’s Robin Hood gives me even more respect for the man.
8. If you could hit the “delete” button on anything related to music (a song, artist, trend, whatever), what would you delete?
I love this question and have thought about this often. I’ve tried to think of who I could erase to get rid of the manufactured music movement in the ‘80s and ‘90s and EVERYTHING that followed but that’s likely just an evolution of a pretty face singing someone else’s music that has been around forever and you can’t get rid of someone without then losing an important part of musical history.
After much deliberation it’s come down to either Smash Mouth or Insane Clown Posse.
9. What’s your favourite thing to drink (alcoholic or otherwise)?
Picaroons beer, V8 (the original, in the can), and fresh-squeezed grapefruit/orange/lemon juice (called Grarorange Juice). Not at the same time.
10. Finish the sentence below and please elaborate on what you mean:
The east coast music scene … difficult but rewarding.
Because we are so isolated from most of the Canadian music industry, we have to work harder than the rest of Canada to get respect and support. It sometimes gets me down because I see so much talent that is given up on because it’s too much work and people lose their steam and break down. However, then I go watch a show or listen to a new record and realize that the best music comes from this region and if the rest of the world doesn’t know about it, it’s their loss.
11. What’s the next thing you want to accomplish, musically or otherwise?
If I could get Forward Music Group to a point where we’d be guaranteed at least 3,000 units sold of any pressing if would give us so much more freedom to take risks and put out more experimental music or side projects and spend more time on actually doing the thing we’re working towards … MAKING MUSIC. I can’t tell you how frustrating it is to spend 1/2 of my day on the computer when my instruments are what I should be concentrating on.