A new tidal wave of Maritime talent is breaking over Canada’s music business.
The stardom trail broken by Maritimers Anne Murray, Gene MacLellan, Catherine MacKinnon, Stompin’ Tom Connors, Ken Tobias and John Allan Cameron is now being travelled by a fresh group of easterners.
Frank Trainor, Shirley Eikhard, Tom Gallant, Ryan’s Fancy, The Haggart Brothers, Kenzie McNeil, Bruce Murray, and Gary Weeks are all reaping national and international radio, stage, TV and recording reputations.
Frank Trainor’s first single “Thursday Morning, Five O’clock Rain” B/W “Here Comes Another Lonely Day” is selling well and showing unusual popularity on both A and B record sides. The handsome twenty-year-old has written 55 songs, four of which have been recorded by Canadian gold winners “The Mercey Brothers”.
Last summer Frank Trainor completed a demanding Canadian university concert tour. The young composer-entertainer emerged a polished performer with self confidence honed in many halls amid diverse audiences. Last August in concert at the Confed Centre as front act for superstar Gino Vanelli, Trainor delighted the capacity audience with his mix of thoughtful and bouncy ballads.
Stranded at a standstill on the edge of blue and sky The Sojourner, my spirit, whispered “fly” Beyond this Desolation where Eternal voices cry Down the highway where the dreamers go to die
My vagrant’s desperation for a better place to be Set its course to trust the dream and drive in me I got the hell out young, alive, still holdin’ 17 Charlotte’s suitcase held a poor boy’s elegy
It was on a Thursday morning, ever grateful for that day At 5 AM I wrote my heart and soul away My hope was now a ticket on a never ending train A brand new guitar and some songs about the rain
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Richard Manuel’s mother sat beside me for awhile “You in a band”? she asked, I said, “no ma’am I’m not” “I’m just going to Toronto where I hope they’ll dig my style” My sense of purpose caused her face to smile a lot
“My son is in a band” she said, “you may have heard of them” “What’s their name”? I asked, “they’re The Band” she said “The Band…?..you’re kidding me…your son is in THE BAND..?” “That’s right”, she said “he’s in The Band” and so her tale began
I can’t remember where we stopped, the station she called home It must have been in Stratford, might as well have been in Rome I only knew, as rounders do, a long and lonesome time Would pass until I’d find her in my verses and in rhyme
This train’s a conflagration now, a fire burning free It sparks the restless soul that bears the life and death of me So listen, hear my wheels race beyond this dreary grey Of shadows, long dead habits and the dust of yesterday
These tracks are harder, tougher now, much colder than the clay I’ll ride them on until the dawn when sleep might come my way Stealthy devils, dead-end proud, all hungry for the grave Invite me to be hungry too, but further on, I pray
No one lives who doesn’t die in suffering and pain Charlotte’s bitter torments were just shackles on my brain So true compassion justly now requires of a need To say at last I suffered her because I had to bleed
And suffering and blood just means that nothing will remain That hasn’t been transformed upon this sky bound mystery train We’re crossing now, the station up ahead is bathed in Light The Band is playin’ “The Shape I’m In” & everything’s just right
