Voluntary In Nature
Catseye
Self Titled // Voluntary In Nature
Willie Thrasher
Indian/Inuit Country // Voluntary In Nature
Wayne McGhie
Wayne ‘76 // Voluntary In Nature
Coming off the tail of an absolutely stellar Willie Dunn retrospective and 20 year collaboration with Light in the Attic Records, Grammy nominated producer/DJ/journalist Kevin Howes continues to further his archival work of bringing overlooked and obscure music to the ears of new listeners with a trio of re-releases through his Voluntary In Nature imprint.
Less a label than an artist-to-artist forum for sharing media, Voluntary In Nature acts as an extension of the diligent archival work best exemplified by the Howes-compiled Native North America box set, which stands as the modern standard for how archival re-issues should be presented. In a classy kind of power move, VIN dropped three incredibly strong, diverse, and distinctly Canadian releases to close out 2021 and give listeners a tantalizing look at the possibilities for what might come next from this indie imprint.
First up is the incredibly obscure (like 99 copies originally pressed obscure) re-issue of the 1973 demo album from Canadian rooted, UK based folk-psych outfit Catseye. This half-Canadian half-Brit group would have easily fit in on a hashish clouded festival bill alongside other British folk acts such as Third Ear Band, Fairport Convention and Incredible String Band, and one is far from surprised to discover that they were championed by none other than legendary BBC DJ John Peel. Sadly, the promise shown on this stellar debut was not to be realized, but listening, one is struck by the vast potential of what might have been. Regardless, the demo alone is a vital work, full of breezy, introspective tunes that meander like a gentle brook across the English countryside, and replete with stunningly balanced production, particularly in the capturing of the excellent harmony work, which often recalls the sunny west coast stylings of groups like Ballroom and The Free Design.
Next is the scrappy, Indian/Inuit Country, from Willie Thrasher, a re-release of a short run cassette tape originally released in the 90’s on the quintessentially Manitoban indie folk imprint Sunshine Records. A true Canadian underdog icon, Willie has often drawn comparisons to Stompin’ Tom, but to me he sounds very much like an Inuk version of Richie Havens, especially in his rhythmic approach to the acoustic guitar. Living up to his name, Thrasher doesn’t strum so much as give his guitar a solid whipping, pounding away with the frenzied assault of a diesel engine. There’s also shades of Hasil Adkins here, a certain wild abandon in the hollering drive of his music, that is also largely informed by the pulsing Pow Wow rhythm that underlies much of his work. This is outsider music at its best, punky, powerful, untamed, and infectiously danceable, with soulful, heartfelt lyrics that reflect Thrasher’s dedication to advancing the cause of his people and celebrating Indigenous culture. Willie remains a potent force in Canadian music to this day, and is still playing his heart out regularly around the country.
Taking yet another sharp stylistic turn, we arrive at the vibrant reggae/funk/soul of Toronto based Jamaican-Canadian Wayne McGhie’s Wayne ‘76. Perhaps the most tragically underexposed example from this sterling batch of albums, the songs collected on ‘76 never actually saw a formal release in their time outside of a small run 7” single. What a devastating batch of irrepressible, funky songs this is, and what a gift to music listeners to finally have this fantastic body of work see wide release. Truth be told, record collectors often become obsessed with certain albums based more on their rarity than the merits of the music contained therein. That’s happily not the case here; Wayne ‘76 is an absurdly good collection of buoyant, infectious tunes, played by a disgustingly tight band, and replete with slick, funky production that makes one question how in the hell the Canadian music industry slept on this. That Wayne McGhie isn’t a well known figure in the history of Canadian pop is a damned travesty of justice. Less an album than a diverse collection of stunningly adept potential a-sides (“Love Over Yonder” especially stands out as a massive disco barnburner), this album serves as a testament to the titanic work ethic of the Jamaican-Canadian music community, who frequently produced music of peerless excellence with little to no support from the greater Canadian music industry. Let’s all be thankful that there are diligent crate diggers in this world who are willing to do the hardcore detective work to bring nuggets like Wayne ‘76 to light for the rest of us.
If you’re the type of listener who has a vested interest in our national output, this batch of releases constitutes essential listening, and shows a strong, positive indication that Voluntary In Nature is dedicated to sharing the untapped wealth of Canadian underground music with a new generation. I highly recommend keeping a close eye out for any future releases, if the strength of this batch is any indication of what’s to come.
- Shaun Lee