Collective melody

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This article was published 10/03/2025 (245 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

With an acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder, Dwaine Davey serenades passersby in a corridor of the downtown skywalk with the Eagles’ classic country song Lyin’ Eyes ringing out over steel strings.

“You can’t hide your lyin’ eyes / And your smile is a thin disguise,” he sings. “I thought by now you’d realize / There ain’t no way to hide your lyin’ eyes.”

Davey’s melodic and versatile voice does justice to the late great Glenn Frey, the co-frontman of that celebrated American rock band.

As a Free Press photographer snaps a series of close-ups, a pedestrian, who prefers not to give his name, nods his head in appreciation and says, “Fantastic,” dropping some coins into Davey’s open guitar case.

“Thank you, bro,” says the bespectacled, brush-cut Davey, 51, with a smile.

Davey has been performing regularly in the skywalk and elsewhere, including outside liquor marts and other commercial venues, since moving here three years ago. His home community is Moose Factory on the shores of James Bay in northwestern Ontario, more than 1,100 kilometres northeast of Winnipeg.

“I call myself a busker because a busker can sing a wide range of music,” says the personable performer, who has also worked in the construction industry.

“We’re not allowed at The Forks without a permit, but I do go on the bridge at The Forks to perform quite a bit in the summer.”

Several years ago, Davey won an Indigenous singer-songwriter contest, earning $5,000, at a competition sponsored by radio station Moose FM in Timmins, Ont. (the hometown of singer-songwriter Shania Twain).

Davey, who was recuperating from lung surgery at the Health Sciences Centre in December, calls himself an activist for Indigenous rights, with music being his method to show support for the cause.

After becoming involved in the much-publicized dispute over the Indigenous lobster fishery in Nova Scotia he obtained the rights to a Bruce Cockburn song from the Canadian singer-songwriter/guitarist’s agent in New York.

“I rewrote the words of one of his songs to support a local native group that was going through a hard time in Nova Scotia,” Davey says of the conflict, which saw members of the Sipekne’katik First Nation asserting their rights to catch lobster in the off season and open a self-regulated fishery.

“He loved the idea. Bruce said he’d support anything with natives.”

Now, Davey wants to organize local street musicians into what he calls a “buskers’ association.”

“I’ve been speaking to a lot of the buskers in the past years. One thing we’d like to do is have an organization, and maybe a central spot where we can play. It’s progressed to the point where I’d like to have such an organization with a corporate board,” he says.

“But I need more support, other singers to come out. One thing we notice as buskers is that there are very few female singers. Male buskers believe that maybe they’re afraid to come down and play here.”

They might have a good reason for that fear, he emphasizes.

“Maybe we’re not prepared downtown to have all these singers, but we will be, little by little and singer by singer. One of the things we want to create is a buddy system, so we can feel safe when we sing, male and female,” says Davey, who has three adult children and a grandson.

Davey points out that in Vancouver or Montreal, you’ll find women performing by themselves with less fear of theft.

“They’re not robbed or threatened. I watched a female singer perform right in downtown Vancouver with her jar for money. Nobody bothered her for a full hour. I know they’re out there in Winnipeg. What we want to do is create a safe environment for them if they want to come out and sing,” he says.

There should be one central place where they can perform, he maintains.

“I see right downtown in this corridor places that are open,” Davey says, suggesting a non-profit organization or the government might want to provide funding.

“Hit up the province and say, ‘You guys are investing all these millions of dollars into these buildings and construction. It’s time to invest in the people.’

“Winnipeg calls itself an ‘artist-friendly city’ that supports its artists. Well then, give us access. Why not be like cities in the U.S. and Europe where they have singers everywhere at a mall or every market?”

Davey’s music also has charms to soothe the savage breast.

Just ask him.

“If I hear someone yelling and screaming down the hall and coming closer to my music, eventually they’ll stop and stand or sit down and just listen,” Davey says, adding that he plays for people who love music but can’t afford to pay for it.

“I’ve hugged people. People have wept because they’ve lost friends and family during COVID. A lot of people in Winnipeg are in mourning. The music, oh my God, it ignites them into sometimes joy and crying. I’ve held people here who are crying after I’ve sung. Or they ask me to sing their favourite song. I’ve done that many times for a lot of Winnipeggers.”

arts@freepress.mb.ca