CONTENT WARNING: This article contains content that may be triggering to sexual assault survivors.
As part of ReconciliAction YEG’s two-week look at Indigenous arts, we are pleased to present an interview with Ella Coyes, or Sister Ray, a singer-songwriter from Edmonton who is Métis.
Listening to Sister Ray is an intensely emotional experience. Her voice can effortlessly transport the listener from a deeply settled feeling of intense quiet to an impassioned feeling of intense sadness. Her ability to navigate such a range of emotion with nothing but her voice and an electric guitar seems all the more compelling when you learn that most of her lyrics are improvised. She was gracious enough to sit down with ReconciliAction YEG to talk about her Métis heritage; her novel, conversational approach to folk music; and about celebration, sadness, and power.
Ella Coyes (“EC”): My family is Métis. My family is Cree and just a bunch of European mutt on the other side. My kokum and mushum were both Cree and Scottish. My family is from the Michel Band, but they were enfranchised. And so my family got a plot of land. I grew up around the Métis side of my family.
ReconciliAction YEG: How would you say being Indigenous affects your music?
EC: When I grew up the idea of music that I had was that it really was for celebration. My papa played fiddle and I would jig and I started doing that way before I played music. It gave me the idea that a lot of the music that we listened to and we would dance to took place for celebration when everyone was gathering. It was conversational music. My papa couldn’t read music. It was oral. So a lot of the music that I heard was so conversational in that way. And it really changed the way that I looked at music - because you’re in such a power position. You’re up on a platform with a thing that makes you louder. And you’re just the loudest thing going on. And I didn’t really like that too much. It really made me try to make it as conversational as I could.
ReconciliAction YEG: That reminds me of what you said in "An Explanation” on Untitled about not knowing what’s going to happen and seeing where the music goes with your audience. Can you tell me more about that?
EC: For the last couple years, I made improvised music. So I would kinda write a chorus. But I wouldn’t really write a lot of lyrics and I would just play. That was kind of the start of trying to make more conversational music.
ReconciliAction YEG: So did you write the lyrics on your Untitled album beforehand?
EC: 90% of them, no. I would write a chorus or had a line that I liked. I really found that the show did genuinely feed off of the space that I was in and feed off of the people who were there. And depending on what the mood was like, and really trying to pull from everybody else’s feelings, it would change and shift. And the tone would shift. It was still me but I didn’t feel like I was talking at anybody. I felt like we were talking to each other. It’s just a feeling. It’s kind of spiritual.
ReconciliAction YEG: You start singing “5:33” and “4:19” inaudibly. Was that deliberate?
EC: I would turn around to figure it out. So that’s what you can hear: me turning around and figuring out how I need to start. If you listen to it really loud you can hear me do the first line.
ReconciliAction YEG: You mentioned that the music that you grew up with was celebratory, but Untitled makes me feel sad. Do you think of the album as sad?
EC: Yeah, it’s really sad. It’s super sad. But I think it’s a backwards celebration in a way. When I first decided to do that project, I really didn’t want to play music anymore because I was dealing with some stuff that was not awesome. It would’ve been two summers ago, or even a summer before that - I had been sexually assaulted by a really good friend of mine who was in the same community as me. I was like, ‘I don’t want to do this anymore. He’s still playing and I don’t want to participate. I’m over it.’ This is a thing that I don’t talk about too much but I was really devastated with myself. I dropped out of high school and there were some things that happened inside my family. But I was so determined to break the cycle of my family in a way. I was really sad and disappointed that that had happened to me, and all those things that happened really close together. And so I needed a space to be able to be sad and be able to talk about it. And so that’s the celebration. That I didn’t feel silenced. It’s sad, but it gave me a lot of power that I had lost. It made me feel like I had a voice. That was my space to own. So it’s sad, but when I listen to it now it makes me happy, because I don’t think I would have talked about it otherwise. I think it’s important to celebrate sorrow as well and celebrate power. You can share in your sadness with other people and provide understanding, not necessarily about a situation, but about the feeling. Because maybe that’s the only thing that you can really share with someone who hasn’t experienced a lot of those things.
ReconciliAction YEG: Do you think that’s part of the role that music can play in decolonization?
EC: Absolutely. I just think it’s the most powerful way to bridge an empathy gap. It’s loud. It’s so powerful. It brings understanding that someone felt bad, and causes you to feel that as well and ask what that is about. Growing up - I’m white presenting. No one would see me on the street and say anything to me. But I saw that happen to my family members. There’s this instant judgment. But I think that judgment is removed if you can take the time to empathize and listen.
ReconciliAction YEG: You mention in “An Explanation” the distinction between being booked to play a show because you are a young woman versus being a young woman who is booked to play a show. Do you feel that same distinction as an Indigenous person?
EC: Yeah. I don’t want to be an advocate first because I don’t think that’s where my power lies. My power lies in being an artist first and using that to advocate, and not the other way around. Especially when I was younger making really straight-forward folk music, I was asked to do that a lot. I didn’t want to go there because I don’t feel like that’s where my place is. I feel like my place is to try to continue to learn and make sure I’m educated and on top of things. But advocacy is not my place. But I do tend to get pushed there, especially by people who can benefit from that. It’s important that we have diversity, but putting someone on a bill because you need diversity is a wrong way to empower people that should be speaking. It undermines the identity of that person.
ReconciliAction YEG: Is Sister Ray a Velvet Underground reference?
EC: Yeah. I love the Velvet Underground so much. White Light/White Heat is my favourite. It really has nothing to do with anything that important, I just love “Sister Ray” and I needed a name. I also thought it was kind of cheeky because I grew up really Catholic. I grew up Métis Catholic. But it’s just kind of a joke that I have with myself.
ReconciliAction YEG: Are you working on any new records right now?
EC: No. I’m working with a producer right now, but I’m not in a place to put out a record right now. I’m working on it. I’m going to record in New York for a day after Toronto. I think we’re putting out a live video in the next week.
ReconciliAction YEG: Where and when can people see Sister Ray next?
EC: I leave for Toronto on Monday. I’ll be recording a little bit. I’m doing a couple dates with Great Lake Swimmers in Guelph and Toronto and then I’m back home. On December 1st, I’m playing the NextGen City Jam with Scenic Route to Alaska, Royal Tusk, Cadence Weapon, and Death From Above. Then I’m playing Big Winter Classic in January.
ReconciliAction YEG thanks Ella Coyes for being generous with her time.