Philippe Mckenzie, from the north shore of the St. Lawrence River in Quebec, was a trailblazer who recorded music in his native tongue.Supplied
The Innu singer-songwriter Philippe Mckenzie was a trailblazing figure in the Canadian Indigenous music community. What was remarkable about his music wasn’t the folk-rock acoustic strum or the stoic, lonesome vocals. What was unique were the Innu-aimun lyrics – Mr. Mckenzie, from the north shore of the St. Lawrence River in Quebec, was recording in his native tongue, a relatively uncommon practice for Indigenous artists at the time.
His first efforts, three vinyl EPs intended mainly for Indigenous community radio, were captured by the CBC’s Northern Service label in the 1970s. The country’s national broadcaster had been drawn to Mr. Mckenzie by his friend and mentor, Morley Loon, whose own folk-Cree songs had previously been recorded by the CBC. Mr. Mckenzie’s recordings had a ripple effect.
“It was an impetus to other Innu as well as other Indigenous nations in Quebec to also sing and compose in their Indigenous language and record themselves on records or cassettes, at the time,” said Quebec-based ethnomusicologist Véronique Audet. “Philippe inspired his peers and future generations to transmit the culture and language and express the political and social issues of his people.”
Mr. Mckenzie, considered the father of modern Innu music, died on July 12 at the age of 70 at a long-term care facility in Sept-Iles, Que., where he had been for nearly a year. He endured the after-effects of a stroke suffered in 2009.
He was a revered troubadour and cultural catalyst who participated in the wave of identity and political affirmation in the 1970s. In addition to his solo work, he recorded a five-song EP with Groupe Folklorique Montagnais for the CBC in 1977. His poetic Innu-aimun lyricism touched on such topics as family, friendship, Indigenous rights and nature’s solitude. Some songs were hopeful; others, despairing.
On Mamitunenitamun (Meditation), he sought guidance (”Where will I direct them, the next generation?”) while condemning the Canadian government: “Sitting, I meditate, what the stranger imposes on me/ He is changing my way of thinking, he condemns me to silence by locking me up in the reserves/ He’s compensating me with money so as to intoxicate my pain …”
His profile rose after his inclusion in the Grammy-nominated album Native North America (Vol. 1): Aboriginal Folk, Rock, and Country 1966–1985, released on Light in the Attic Records in 2014. The compilation gathered rare and out-of-print recordings by First Nations, Métis and Inuit musicians from Canada and Alaska.
Mr. Mckenzie’s folky featured song Mistashipu (Great River) incorporated a traditional teueikan drum beat. The lyrics, translated in the liner notes, lamented a community’s lost relationship with Moisie River, a long-established waterway passage for the Innu.
When the Innu used to go up in the land
And when they went back down to the coast
They used the river, and had a hard time there
Great river, great river great river
We, the young, we’ll never be able to do that
Like the Innu did before, we will never be able to do that …
The song originally appeared on a CBC Northern Service 7″ record, Indian Songs in Folk Rock Tradition Composed and Sung by Philippe McKenzie, produced by Les McLaughlin, a CBC broadcaster and producer who championed musicians from Canada’s North. Other song titles on the record translate to The Elder, Friendship, The Day Approaches, One Must and If It Pleases.
“When you listen to Philippe’s music and close your eyes, it really does paint a picture of what the songs are about,” said Native North America producer Kevin Howes. “He’s singing about the land and community traditions, and it comes right out of the grooves of the records.”
Mr. Mckenzie was born in Maliotenam, a First Nations reserve in Quebec, on Oct. 26, 1953. Like many of his generation, he was inspired by the Beatles and the Rolling Stones to pick up a guitar as a teenager in the 1960s. Unlike many of his generation, he was forced to share the guitar among community members because of a scarcity of instruments.
He initially belonged in a group that performed covers of the French and English pop hits of the day, but was inspired to write and sing in Innu-aimun after meeting Mr. Loon at Manitou College in La Macaza, Que. Created in 1973 on the abandoned site of a missile base, the college was one of the first Canadian postsecondary institutions for Indigenous students.
Mr. Mckenzie played at pow wow gatherings, weddings and local bars, sometimes accompanied by Florent Vollant and Claude McKenzie, the duo who went on to form the breakout Juno-nominated Innu pop group Kashtin.
“It was thanks to Philippe that we discovered we could sing and compose in Innu,” Mr. Vollant told Voir magazine in 2019, speaking in French. “He was a real mentor for us.”
In 1984, Mr. Mckenzie co-organized a music festival on a Moisie River traditional site near Maliotenam with several Indigenous artists from Quebec. The event led to the founding (by Kashtin’s Mr. Vollant and others) of the Innu Nikamu Festival, one of North America’s largest annual events of Indigenous music and arts.
Outside of music, Mr. Mckenzie served as an elected official with his band council. After retiring from music, he worked for a mining company.
The balladeer was humble and quick to laugh, according to his friend, Ms. Audet. “He loved encouraging young people to sing and make music and to always improve in their practice,” she said.
A partial paralysis caused by a stroke in 2009 mostly ended his performing career and put a stop to his song writing as well. “It discouraged him from composing new songs and music, because he composed by strumming the guitar,” Ms. Audet said.
That same year, Chloé Sainte-Marie released Nitshisseniten e tshissenitamin, an Innu-language covers album comprised of Mr. Mckenzie’s songs.
The Innu Nikamu Festival celebrates its 40th edition this summer. Expressing sadness over the death of Mr. Mckenzie, festival co-ordinator Normand Jr. Thirnish-Pilot saluted the musician’s legacy in a statement that included a significant question. “Where would we be today,” he asked in French, “if he had not dared to sing in Innu-aimun?”
Mr. Mckenzie is survived by his partner, Mrs. Evelyne St-Onge; daughter, Mélanie; son, Mishta-Shipu Mckenzie, and grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and brothers and sisters.
Editor’s note: A previous version of this article incorrectly stated… . The album was Grammy-nominated. This version has been updated.
You can find more obituaries from The Globe and Mail here.
To submit a memory about someone we have recently profiled on the Obituaries page, e-mail us at obit@globeandmail.com.