Sept '06
By David McPherson

The Winnipeg native sings songs that sift through the shit and make you weep with their sad beauty. "I can't seem to escape heartbreak," says Mayes. "A good song makes me cry … grown men have told me that some of my songs have made them ball their eyes out. I do write some goofy songs, but life is a hard road for a lot of people, including myself, and I guess I'm drawn to that."

It's the Civic Holiday Monday and I catch up with Mayes, wearing faded blue jeans and a jean shirt, sitting on the curb outside the Cameron House in Toronto, getting ready for that evening's show. Later, back inside, she hooks up with her dobro player Dan Walsh (formerly of the Fred Eaglesmith Band) to hash out the night's set list at the front bar. As the duo later hit the stage, along with guitarist Chris Carmichael, they plow through the bulk of the sweet sounds from Mayes new disc: Sweet Somethin' Steady, including "Eight More Days," and "Long Way Home."

The new disc veers away from the bluegrass sounds Mayes explored on her previous records and adds some good ole country-soul. Sweet Somethin' Steady took only a fortnight in the studio, where the sorrowful songwriter had the opportunity to work with her "dream producer," the Austin, Tx. based Gurf Morlix. Walsh knew Morlix and when he hooked up with Mayes last year, he sent some of her songs to the Texas troubadour. Morlix liked what he heard and as they say, the rest is history.

"I talked to him on the phone for an hour and everything I felt about albums and music he shared," says Mayes. "He brought the best out of all of us. He has golden ears and knows exactly when things are right. It was really an organic process. It was a project of love and it really felt like a family. I hope to work with him again as we developed what I feel is a lifelong partnership."