PLAIN FOLK by Les Pearson He has that grizzled look of the archetypal prospector. Grey and tousled hair, stocky build, blue jeans and ruddy cheeks. Steve Slade is what you see. He has honesty given to those who live next door to wilderness. Prospectors and trappers know. Ranchers understand. There is soul-searching reality at thirty below, miles and miles from the next human. Nothing but truth, self-reliance, and pragmatism matter in aYukon winter and in all great music. Steve Slade understands. The land has history; new arrivals do not. The Yukon's isolation freed Steve to be what he wants and to take responsibility for the person he has become. Yukon has been home since 1979, the year Slade became a full-time musician. With his dog and guitar, he hitch-hiked up the Alaska Highway to Whitehorse where he has lived since. There have been treks "outside" for festivals and gigs, but always there is the long trip home to friends, family, and freedom. He has prospected in many musical mines. Slade plays jazz, blues, gospel, folk, country, harmonica, guitar, and clown. I asked Steve how he would describe his music. His one word answer was "Good." And it is. "I like it all. Music is music." He is quick to note that reviewers have steered clear of attempts to classify his performances. Why? "People have trouble when they can't pigeon-hole." In the Yukon, Steve has done "a little of everything" to make a living. This is partly the freedom of the North. "If I have an idea to express--if I want to write a waltz--I write a waltz." There are few physical or psychic limits where Slade lives. He travels with his band in the winter, but summers find him producing a concert-in-the-park, noon series for the Arts Society in Whitehorse. Steve is doing what he loves to do. Not complacently, but because it is right for him. As a singer, he has compiled four or five recordings including several that are now out of print. The Yukon Collection (1995) and Steve Slade: this would be me (2003) are two CD's still in circulation. And his songs are out there. Emily Kearn, a San Francisco folk star, sings his "Family Farm." Aengus Finnan sings "Jenny," "Virginia," and my favourite, "Saskatchewan Rose." I asked how he felt about giving other singers his songs. Is this like giving away a first-born child? Does he feel resentment when someone else makes his music popular? First, Steve said everyone can write a song. But when others sing your songs "...you know you've touched a chord in somebody." Is this the mother lode? Perhaps there is this prospector's hunger in all of us. Maybe that emotional contact is the lucky strike! Then Steve said, "Anyone who can write a song, should write a song." (Will you always wonder how rich you might have been if only you had?) Back to the mine. But will we wait for Steve's nuggets...or mine our own? |