In late 2018, I watched Heartworn Highways for the first time. Halfway through, I thought, “Why haven’t I done this? I know enough good musicians, they probably know some better ones”. A passing of time later, Colter Wall was at my house and I asked him who he thought I could wrangle into a movie. With a list of musicians I knew and did not knew, I began 2019.

It starts in March with Corb Lund in Prince Albert. A helping hand from Colter connected me with Corb who too loved Heartworn Highways. At the venue, audio and guitar wizard Joel Rohs was running sound & helped me record before and during Corb’s set. Corb did his line check towards an empty auditorium, turned around, and played some of his greatest for the cameras. Wrapping up an hour later, he asks, “Who’s going to be at the table jam? The jam at Guy & Susanna’s is the best part.”

After the show and hanging out with bull riders, he asked for a ride to his hotel. I obliged, briefly panic when I think I lock my keys in the trunk, and admit to him one of my greatest musical ineptitudes - as a teenager, listening to She Won’t Come to Me, off his album Five Dollar Bill, I solidly imagined his lyrics describing a woman, assuming I was still too young to understand why a woman’s ears would be pinned back with wild eyes. He literally says “mare”. Corb looked at me, quite confused, perhaps eager to vacate my vehicle.

And then, for a few months, I did nothing but gather b-roll. Drive somewhere, spot something, film it for 2 minutes, continue on. Film an old grain elevator, a man stomps over to ensure you’re not with an environmental agency, assuage his concerns with “Country Music”. Drive down a grown over but rutted ‘road’, film some short native grasses, leaving the camera while I take a dump beside my car. This is film making.

June takes me south to Colter, down in Speedy Creek. We spent the day shooting, Colter touring me around the hills and cattle farms in his blue pickup. Most of that day isn’t even in the documentary. It’s in Jeff Dyck’s garage singing John Prine’s The Speed of the Sound of Loneliness, it’s in the pasture in the cab of his truck as it pisses rain for the first time all summer while Colter picks out Mike Beck’s Happy Reunion.

Two weeks later. Somehow, I convinced these musicians and more to convene in my home, around the dining table once owned by my great grandfather. My friend Brandon White assisted me with another 2 cameras & Joel Rohs came down from PA to record all the audio. I bought one case of beer which was exhausted before the guitars came out, sending my roommate for more. I made two crocks of chili, two links of sausage, and my girlfriend holds the glory for the beautiful banana bread in the middle of the table. They played together for hours, ate sausage buns, left in their own ways (with designated drivers behind wheels), and once again I drove Corb Lund back to his hotel.

As promised, Clayton did see Ellen later at Perogyfest, held on her family farm in late July. That is where we also find Wolf Willow. There is perogies, there is music, there is a man named Daniel drawing people. The festival is no more, but the dairy farm is producing better than ever.

August brought me to the home of Prairie to Pine, a Saskatchewan music historian. Clayton Linthicum conducted the interview, an old friend of Mr. Pine’s. I knew his extensive collection & knowledge of Saskatchewan’s musical history was as important as the contemporary musicians I was filming, but I wasn’t yet sure how it fit in “the doc”. A few days later Zachary Lucky joined me out at my family farm, sitting in the barn and performing for the horses.

After Zachary gets back to his home, he sends me a video of a speaker and a man’s voice. It’s his grandfather, Smilin’ Johnnie Lucky, talking on an album made in 1971, lamenting the fact that Canadians simply don’t care about Canadian music. As I replied to Zachary, ‘this documentary has a whole lot more clarity now’.

I refer to myself as a city kid who grew up on a farm. I don’t know how to drive a tractor or ride a horse. Compared to my father, my hands may as well still be an infants. Growing up, I didn’t give a shit about the prairies. I knew exactly what Smilin’ Johnnie was talking about. The idea that Canada, let alone Saskatchewan, could produce anything I would care about seemed impossible. Who would romanticize Regina when there also exists wonders like Little Rock, Arkansas?

It took a few years of working with musicians who painted lyrical poetry from the land around them to see what they sung. From getting stoned in a provincial park (Moose Mountain - Blake Berglund), a low tale of small town revenge (John Beyers (Camaro Song) - Colter Wall), to a quiet winter walk noting flora and fauna with man’s encroachment along the river bank (South Saskatchewan River - Kacy & Clayton), I realized there are stories to be told here, one just needs to listen.

So, dear CBC Reporters, that’s what “the doc” is about.

Soon after Zachary sent me the clip of his grandfather, I headed to Winnipeg. On the way, I stopped at Johnnie Lucky’s farm, seen at the start of “the doc”. Zachary gave me the directions, and I visited alone. Someone had mown recently. It was quiet and though in a state of decay, I didn’t feel any of the usual sinister-abandoned-music-festival-ground vibes that you get in episodes of Scooby Doo. In Winnipeg I shoot with Scott Nolan, taking time to enjoy the city’s fried chicken and thrift stores.

The morning of September 1st, I met with William Prince. Mr. Prince shared with me his morning routine, invited me into his home, serenaded, and I set out for Brandon and Shotgun Jimmie. I had never met Jimmie, but as another big fan of Heartworn he immediately understood the assignment and delivered gold. He toured me around Brandon before taking me to his studio, showing me a glimpse into the manic machinations that must rattle around in his head, early prototypes of the direction his music would find in the coming years. Jimmie kills it. He tells me how excited he is to visit Texas in March 2020. I hit a thrift, get some horror vhs tapes, and continue the trek to Regina.

The beautiful thing about being above the 49th & east of mountains is the length of our days in the summer. I get to Regina at 7:30pm, and the light is just right for a fire-escape shoot with Belle Plaine. William Prince, Shotgun Jimmie, Belle Plaine. Some people pay festival prices to see that line up in one day. Some bring a camera into their home and say ‘pleasepleasepleaseplease perform for me’.

In September, Blake Berglund and Belle Plaine were away & offered their home to me, so I used it as a base, setting out every day to make b-roll miles around southern Saskatchewan. I promised my girlfriend the beauty of Big Muddy, but got confused and took her to Central Butte instead. Central Butte has good pepperoni cheesybread, but Big Muddy they are not. The sunset scene seen during Scott Nolan’s song was during this week stay, pulled over on the highway south of Regina. It remains one of the most impressive Sasky sunset I’ve captured.

There’s a few more performances, Richard Inman in my kitchen, The Local Group at Ryan Shotton’s, more b-roll gathered, time passes and the year ends.

With 2019 finished, I set out to edit “the doc”. I scrapped together a rough draft, and had an idea - Jason Momoa, Aquaman, follows me on Instagram. Maybe he wants to give me money to finish the project up the ‘right’ way. I did not know what the ‘right’ way was, but Aquaman probably did. I sent him a message, he was interested, neat. Internet chatting between us occurred, until the first night of Jeopardy! Greatest of All Time tournament, Jennings v Rutter v Holzhauer. I was in Calgary, watching with the only losers in my life who cared about Jeopardy! as much as me. The night before, theys told me they’s pregnant, Jeop was on, and Jason Momoa was going to call me. Emotions were exuberant.

The episode begins, and shortly after, Momoa calls me. I run upstairs, away from the Jeopardy!, away from prying ears of engineers. Aquaman’s on set shooting a Netflix movie, calling me between takes. Something involving a subway car. We chat for a minute, he is called back to do a take, we hang up. I run back downstairs. I marvel at Holzhauer, Aquaman calls again, I run back upstairs. This repeats several times. Momoa loves the idea, loves what he’s seen, but more importantly, he wants more Colter. He asks if I could do a movie just on Colter, I passively agree. He invites me to a Harley Davidson shoot he’s doing, I passively agree, and now that our call is done, I excitedly return back to Jeopardy!. Jennings wins the episode.

And then a few weeks into 2020, something happened that affected us all in one way or another, priorities shifted, and I decided to release it without Aquaman’s involvement. But instead of doing that, I did nothing with it for 3 years. I put the hard drive in a drawer, occasionally opening to poke, prod, let others look into the drawer and tell me what they thought of my drawer baby.

Artistic indecision & insecurity left in in the drawer, ever waiting for that uncloudy day when “the doc” was out and everyone would watch it and love it and I would be crowned King of the World. Unfortunately, this day does not come just by waiting. I would pull hard drive out, putting “the doc” through phases and stages, 3-episodes, 90minutes, 120 minutes. I was “in it”, as anyone who has repeatedly spent 12-hour-days staring at the same art project well knows.

I decided to give “the doc” over to Blake Berglund & his new label Western Seer. Blake & Belle Plaine provided valuable insight at how to order the tracks, how to present the jam scene, ideas for a travelling show to present “the doc”. And then a few weeks into 2025, something happened that affected only a few of us one way or another, and I again decided to release “the doc” myself, on youtube, on my upcoming birthday.

Throughout production, I had titled "the doc” Saskadelphia, a theft of the abandoned title for The Tragically Hip’s 1991 album Road Apples. Then in 2021, they used the title anyways. Also during this time, I wore a variety of different coloured vintage “Republic of Western Canada” trucker hats. Made during a separatism spur in the 80’s, I enjoyed their Western Canadian pride and loved the irony of endorsing a pathetically failed political movement. But then I started to get people pulling me aside in hushed tones, saying ‘I really like your hat…’, as if they knew the general public would think they were a dipshit for wanting to separate from the nation. Little did they know, I too thought they were idiots!

Shitheads in Alberta were ramping up their ‘efforts’ to separate, so I stopped wearing the hats, and decided to take back the title from those who wish to see Canada splintered. Sorry if you thought I was championing your separatist cause, but I actually think it’s stupid.

Once more I revised “the doc”, taking everything I’ve learned in the 6 years since I started the project along with notes from those I trust, and crafted it’s final form as you see it. I sought approval from all artists involved, dreading discussion with those I had cut. Clearance and compassion was achieved from all sides. I asked some talented Saskatchewan artists to create posters, Dakota McFadzean, Kendel Kinahan, and Daniel Syrnick. They all nailed it.

I made a few trailers on social media, refused interview requests from various sources, and finally released “the doc” on October 11th 2025. that brings us to today, 5 months later. I was not crowned King of the World, but I have also have learned that is not where my artistic desires lie.

The Musical Republic of Western Canada is available for all to watch, and many of those who have seen it have offered it kindness. I thank them, and I thank you for reading.

When creating -
Just do it right. Make it perfect and real.
Even if that takes you 6 years.

god bless,
LJF

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more