She was a funny dog.
She didn’t miss many meals and was as flatulent as the day is long.

One year, on Ruby’s 3rd birthday, and with a busload of her kindergarten pals on the way…
Well…
Let’s just say that I had to make a quick trip back to the bakery.

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More than 25 years and 12 studio albums into his career, Canadian roots singer-songwriter Mike Plume feels he’s got something intrinsically right with his newest effort, Born By The Radio. 

Plume made his initial mark on Canada’s vast musical landscape in the 90’s, routinely playing more than 200 shows a year for the better part of two decades. He’s toured every corner of North America, sharing the stage with the likes of Blue Rodeo, Corb Lund, Steve Earle, John Hiatt, and The Mavericks, and most recently with Lindi Ortega.

However, the past five years of Plume’s career have proven to be a renaissance of sorts for the long-running song and dance man.

When Canadian country and folk singer Stompin’ Tom Connors passed away in early 2013, Plume’s heartfelt, and somewhat impromptu, tribute to the legendary songwriter, “So Long Stompin’ Tom,” went viral, and Plume was invited to perform the song at Stompin’ Tom’s memorial in Peterborough, Ontario. 

Later that same year, Plume released Red and White Blues, his first record since 2009’s 8:30 Newfoundland, which spawned the Top 20 hit, “This Is Our Home (8:30 Newfoundland),” which also received heavy airplay during the 2010 Winter Olympics held in Vancouver, B.C.  

“I’m still convinced that song will be used in a Molson Canadian commercial,” Plume says. 

“So Long Stompin’ Tom” had, somewhat unwittingly, returned Plume to the national spotlight, yet he didn’t quite feel compelled to revel in the moment like he could have. 

“Leading up to 2013, I had been laying relatively low,” Plume says. “But the release of Red and White Blues and the holiday album were intended to be low key. The big thrust behind those releases was because I wanted to have something current to sell at shows. I didn’t hire a publicist or worry about a radio tracker, primarily because I wasn’t interested in playing the game anymore.”

These revelations somewhat beg the question of precisely what switch flipped in the singer-songwriter to convince him to go whole hog into the release of Born By The Radio. It turns out there was a confluence of factors at work. 

“I’ve maintained a steady roster of shows after all these years, and I was fine with that, but last summer, after seeing me somewhat flounder at various jobs I intended to land to stay close to home, my wife and daughter flat out told me, ‘You need to be on the road. It’s what you’re good at, and you can’t do anything else,’” Plume says with a laugh.

“It was their nudging and urging that ultimately convinced me to take another kick at it.”

Also helping push Plume forward was the fact he had assembled a notoriously strong collection of songs. While Red and White Blues was a loose and fun return to form for the songwriter, Born By The Radio could be Plume’s Born To Run, a subtle yet powerful artistic re-awakening that sees him delivering some of the strongest material of his 25-plus year career. 

“Red and White Blues came together over the course of a couple of weeks, which is absolutely the reason why it has such a loose feel to it. The making of Born By The Radio was spread out over the course of six months. We took our time, and I think that’s evident.”

Despite maintaining he had zero intention of writing radio-friendly hits, Plume has them in spades throughout Born By The Radio’s nine tracks. 

Kicking off with “My Old Friend,” Plume looks back on the first half-century of his life and the friendships that survive distance and the inevitable passing of time, while “Mama’s Rolling Stone,” co-written with Canadian country star Tim Hicks, reflects on how years tend to accelerate past parents as their children rely upon them less and less. 

“I think it’s a hit and I’d love to see it be a hit,” Plume says, referring to “Mama’s Rolling Stone.” “The same could be said for ‘Waste A Kiss On Me.’ which I wrote with Trevor Rosen of [American country band] Old Dominion.” 

Another song “Western Wind,” was nothing more than a title that Plume carried for the better part of 12 years before actually writing the song. “The song title came from when we were rehearsing at Levon Helm’s place in Woodstock, NY back in May of 2000. One day while on a break, I was outside smoking a cigarette and Levon came out of his house and sat down beside me and said, ‘I sure can hear that western wind in y’all’s music…’ I almost fell over.  I should have put that on a poster somewhere.” 

Clocking in at under 35 minutes, and with some of the strongest, most compelling material of his career, Born By The Radio is proof positive that Plume is only getting better with age. While some may question the viability of the album in a singles-driven market, this collection proves the album format, like Plume himself, is as relevant as ever. 

“The truth is, I feel strongly about this album as a whole. It’s a good clutch of songs, and I think it’s a fantastic time to be in the music business.”

The next morning,
I walked into the kitchen and poured a bowl of cereal.

My Mom, as usual, was sitting at the table drinking coffee.

“I don’t think I wanna move back to Moncton.”
“What do you mean, you don’t think you wanna move back to Moncton?”
“I think I wanna stay here. I feel like I’m starting to make friends here.”
“Well, you know, Mike, that really makes me happy to hear that.”

And that was that.
At the end of June, we traveled to New Brunswick for our summer holidays.

A month later, we all flew back to Alberta.
My Mom.
My Brother.
And me.

I spent the remainder of my Summer holidays kicking around Bonnyville.
Cutting laps.
Waterskiing.
Waving at girls.

Lots of fun.

The first time I was ever legless drunk happened that summer.

I barely remember it.
But I’ll never forget it.

We were at a friend’s birthday party, just south of town, out on Muriel Lake.

Anyway, Curtis, Ernie and I had decided to funnel some beer.

We polished off a twenty-four pack of Labatt’s Blue in less than 15 minutes.
It was a good idea on paper.
But it stopped there.

I don’t remember much but I do remember this.
Vividly.
Ernie karate chopped the birthday cake in half.

Destroyed it.

“Hiya Waki Saki!!!!”

Chop.
Chop. Chop. Chop.

Smashed it to smithereens.

An absolute classic.

The next thing I remember is Keith throwing me over one shoulder and Ernie over the other, as he took it upon himself to see that we got home safe and sound.

I passed out.

“Keith, pull over, man, I’m not feeling good.”
“We already are, buddy, Ernie’s throwing up in the ditch.”

I remember Ernie and I both standing on the side of the road puking like there was no tomorrow.

Regrettably, there was a tomorrow, along with my first experience with the “dry heaves”.

Good times.

My BMX/Guitar playing buddy, Justin moved back to town and we picked where we left off.

Riding bikes and talking about guitars.

Somewhere mixed in with all the craziness of summer, we started rehearsing again.
Keith was going away to college and therefore had no real choice but to leave the band.

Replacing Keith was going to be a tall order.

We auditioned one guy.

He could play the hell out of “Cat Scratch Fever”.

I remember his name was Flo DeBeau.
Jesus, what a handle!
With a name like that, he was bound for the big time!

But things didn’t work out.

Ernie’s dad didn’t like the cut of Flo’s jib.
And seeing that we rehearsed at Ernie’s place…

Well…
Flo ended up not getting a callback, if you know what I mean.

We decided not to replace Keith after all.

The guys convinced me to play guitar and sing.
I didn’t have Keith’s chops, (I didn’t even have a chop) but we made do with what I brought to the table.

One night, about a week before school started, Ernie, Curt and I drove into Edmonton to see AC/DC on the “Who Made Who” tour.

What a show!
One word.
Killer.

With my ears ringing and the windows down, we made our way back to Bonnyville.
Not a cloud in the sky.
Moonlit.

Almost didn’t even need headlights.

There seemed to be no other cars on the road.
Just us and the sound of the road beneath our wheels.

The warm Alberta night blowing in through the windows.

It was the perfect summer night.
If you’ve ever spent a summer in Alberta, you know what those nights are like.

They are few and far between but certainly worth the wait.

As we rolled back into town around 4AM, the sun was already on the rise.

The next thing I knew, school had started again.

It was the first time in 5 years that I wasn’t starting the school year in a new school.

I actually felt like Bonnyville was my home.

Football practice seemed to dominate the early part of my senior year.

One Friday night in mid-September, I came home around midnight.

As I was tiptoeing up the stairs, my brother came out of his room with a smile on his face and a cassette tape in his hand.

It was the new Bon Jovi album, “Slippery When Wet”.

I’d been waiting for this album since the minute I first heard “Runaway” at Keith’s house on New Year’s Eve.

I’d been reading about the recording of this album in Circus Magazine and Metal Edge for months already.

I couldn’t believe it was finally here.

I went to my room.
Popped the tape in my boom box.
Pressed play.
Laid down on my waterbed and immediately fell asleep.

I probably heard the first 30 seconds of the first song before I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up the next morning and pressed play again.

As far as I was concerned, it was the greatest album ever recorded.

“Hey Mom, can I have the keys to the car?”
“Sure, where’re you going?”
“Chris and I are gonna go cut some laps…”

And man did we ever.
For about six hours.
Me and Chris.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
FasGas to the Red Rooster.
Red Rooster to the FasGas.
Over and over again.

Maybe stop for a Slurpee at the 7-11.
Cut laps for another hour or two.

Snag another Slurpee.
Brain freeze.

“Slippery When Wet” was on a constant loop for months.

Cinderella’s album “Night Songs” held the top spot for about a week and then it was back to the Bon Jovi album.

One Saturday afternoon in late September, I was out at Curt’s place on Moose Lake.

We were just goofing off, hanging around and jumping on his trampoline.
We went in the house for a drink of water.

He sat at the piano and started playing something I’d never heard before.

“What’s that?”
“I don’t know, I just made it up…”
“Well, keep playing it! It’s cool, man!”

I started singing a melody.

Then, slowly, words started to come out of the fog of random syllables.
Before I knew it, we’d just written a song!
I couldn’t believe it!

It was called “Streets Of The Night”.

We wrote the first verse and chorus in about 15 minutes.
I wrote the second verse about a week later.

To me, this song was as good as “The Long And Winding Road”.

Maybe even better.

Also around that same time, my English teacher (Mrs. Perry) had given me a brochure about a music school in Boston called “Berkley College Of Music”.

For the first time in my life, I was excited about a school.
But there were a couple things that appeared to be roadblocks on my path to Berkley.

One being that it would cost a fortune to go there.

“Well, maybe I can get a scholarship or something…” I thought to myself.

The other glitch was that I needed to have a firm grasp on music theory.

“How tough could it be? It’s just a bunch of black dots…”

So with a supreme amount of confidence, I decided to take some lessons in music theory at the only music store in Bonnyville.

Panich Music, owned and operated by local music hotshot, Lavern Panich.

My Mom paid for 5 lessons upfront.
My first lesson was on a Saturday morning.

I walked in, sat down and realized instantly that I was in over my head.

The following Saturday, I walked in, sat down and pretending that I was reading the sheet music in front of me, played “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” by ear.

“Hey, yer really picking it up real quick, aren’t ya!”
“Yeah, thanks! I appreciate it.”
“Hey, do you know how to play “Stairway”?”
“Sure do…”

So I taught my teacher how to play “Stairway To Heaven”.

As I was walking home I decided that there was no way I was ever gonna be able to learn how to read music.

So I quit.

My dream of going to Berkley was over before it began.

“What can a poor boy do, except to sing for a rock and roll band…?”

Exactly.

But I’d already paid for the first 5 lessons.
No refunds and I still had three more lessons to go.

So instead of letting that money go to waste, I convinced Lavern to let me swap lessons in music theory for studio time.

He agreed.

He said he’d engineer the recording.

That worked for me, because up until that moment, I thought engineers drove trains.

Anyway, so on one cold Saturday afternoon in February of 1987, Curt, Al and I walked into the little studio at Panich Music and recorded “Streets Of The Night”.

I can still see us all gathered around one microphone singing the chorus.

“Streets of the night will catch your fall every time.
Streets of the night will see you walking down the line.
Streets of the night will always be your home…”

An hour later, Curt and I were cutting laps listening to a song that we’d just recorded.

I couldn’t believe it.
To my ears, it sounded amazing!

“We need to get on the Letterman show, man…”

As we were driving by Notre Dame High School and I noticed my Mom was walking across the parking lot towards her car.

“Curt, pull over! I gotta play this for my Mom…”

We pulled up beside her as she walked across the parking lot.
I rolled down the window.

“Hey Mom, you gotta listen to this…!”

I looked straight ahead as the song played.
I couldn’t look at her.
I was too nervous.

When the song finished, I finally got the courage to look her way.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

It was the first time I’d seen her cry since John Lennon died.

You know that feeling you get when you’re balancing on two legs of a chair and you are just about tip over?

That’s what singing the Anthem feels like.

We’ve all seen the videos of people drawing a blank mid-song.
“What happened?”
“What song am I singing?”
“How’d I end up here?”
“Where am I?”
“Who am I?”
“Who thought this would be a good idea?”

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