Ian Tyson’s songs are ‘woven into the mythology of the West’, writes Angus/IMDB

By Charlie Angus

December 30, 2022

It is hard to assess the legacy of Ian Tyson. In terms of iconic Canadian songwriters, he stands apart from Leonard Cohen, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Gordon Lightfoot or Stompin’ Tom. Not because his songs were better but because it seemed as if they had always been there. Ian wrote about cowboys, the West, the mountains and the prairies. He didn’t lose sleep over which side of the border his characters lived on. Those songs are now woven into the land and mythologies of the West.

“So, blow, you old Blue Northern
Blow my love to me
He’s driving in tonight
From California
He loves his damned old rodeo
As much as he loves me
Someday soon, going with him
Someday soon.”

Ian Tyson, Someday Soon

I discovered Ian Tyson while travelling with my band, the Grievous Angels, on first national tour. We had a soundtrack of cassettes that we felt were essential – Stan Rogers, Stompin’ Tom, Neil Young and Public Enemy. Ian Tyson wasn’t on the radar. Making a career was the band objective but the real goal was the adventure of discovering Canada. We set out from Toronto in a rented Winnebago, playing country bars across Northern Ontario and aiming for the folk festivals and clubs of western Canada. I remember the moment when we came out of the darkness of the boreal forest and saw the sun coming up on the prairie flatlands. I was awestruck. I didn’t have the language to describe the immensity, the excitement and the beauty of the land. Our song Red Deer to Margaree was inspired by that tour.

That awe stayed with us as the bus turned up the Yellowhead highway along the great North Saskatchewan River. And then somebody began to sing “Think I’ll go out to Alberta, weather’s good there in the fall.”

We weren’t trying to pay tribute to Ian Tyson. It was as if the song had always been there. When we got to the festival in Edmonton there was a moment when all the artists came out onstage to lead the crowd in a rendition of Four Strong Winds. A grumpy American pop singer nudged his compatriot and asked, “Why is everyone in this country so into that song?”

“I dunno,” the guy said. “I think it’s their national anthem.”

(For a particularly rousing rendition, here are yours truly, then-NDP Megan Leslie and then-NDP MP and former bandmate Andrew Cash leading the federal NDP caucus in an exuberant Four Strong Winds singalong the day after Alberta NDP Leader Rachel Notley’s victory in the 2015 provincial election).

The tour then drove through the Rockies and down the Fraser River canyon. And once again we found ourselves in awe over the landscape that had been so perfectly described by Tyson. In the song Summer Wages, he sings: “Those great fogbound straights where the cedars stand awaiting, I’ll be lost and gone like summer wages.”

That awe stayed with us as the bus turned up the Yellowhead highway along the great North Saskatchewan River. And then somebody began to sing ‘Think I’ll go out to Alberta, weather’s good there in the fall’.

What makes Summer Wages the perfect song is that this is not the song of a tourist. Tyson lets us know he has lived on both sides of the economic divide when he needs to find a job after losing his wages on a blackjack bet. “Never bet on 17 when you play against the dealer.”

And then he gives the kicker line, “So I’ll work those towboats in my slippery city shoes. Lord, I swore I’d never do that again.” Boom, you know this guy has really lived the good and the hard times.

For a short period of time, Grievous Angels were on the same label with Ian Tyson. We heard funny stories about the rancher singer who had started out in the folk clubs of Toronto with his partner, Sylvia, before packing it in and heading back west. Ian, the label guys told us, was set in his ways.

As one of the perks of being on a small Canadian label, we were given a cassette of his latest recording, Navajo Rug, written with Tom Russell. It is a brilliant song but even more brilliant is the writing. It reads as the perfect western short story, as perfect as anything written by Max Brand or Elmore Leonard:

“Well, it’s two eggs up on whiskey toast
And home fries on the side
Wash it down with the road house coffee
Burns up your insides
Just a canyon Colorado diner
And a waitress I did love
I sat in the back ‘neath an old stuffed bear
And a worn out Navajo rug.”

The song tells of Katie the waitress pulling the rug down off the wall after the restaurant closes so that she can make love to her cowboy. And when the restaurant burns to the ground, the local men are surprised to see Katie “a-coming through the smoke draggin’ that Navajo rug.”

And then the chorus: “Aye aye aye Katie, shades of red and blue. Whatever became of that Navajo rug and you?” I remember singing along to that song as we watched the sun set behind us on the drive back to Ontario.

There is a Canada that can only be understood by making the commitment to travel by car, motorcycle or train. It is a Canada of immense spaces, time and dreams. And in that landscape you will hear, if you listen really close, the songs of the rancher folkie.

Go to the angels, Ian.

Charlie Angus has been the NDP Member of Parliament for Timmins-James Bay since 2004. He is also frontman for the Grievous Angels, and a regular Policy contributor. His latest book is Cobalt: Cradle of the Demon Metals, Birth of a Mining Superpower.