“Havelock, New Brunswick – 1978”

I remember the first time I ever set foot (or skate) on a hockey rink.

It was in December 1972, at the outdoor rink up by the Cement Plant houses in Havelock, New Brunswick.

I was four years old.
My cousin Terry was with me.
There must have been a hundred kids on the ice.
It was snowing.

Perfect, like a snow globe.

I remember the sound of hockey sticks slapping at pucks and skate blades carving into the ice.

I remember the sound of laughter.

I remember toques and scarves.
Cold cheeks.
Snow on eyelashes.

It took me forever to make my first lap around the rink.

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“Dance Ruby, Dance”

I remember it as if it were a meal ago.
I wrote “Dance Ruby, Dance” back in July of 2005.

Ruby’s first birthday.

One day, I was playing my guitar, and Ruby, who was just learning to walk, suddenly stopped and looked at me.

She started bouncing up and down like kids do when they’re excited.
Every time I’d stop playing, she’d stop dancing.
I’d start playing again, and she’d start bouncing up and down again.

It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.

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“Upon Further Review…”

I am sitting in an airport bar in Edmonton, having what I swear will be my last pint (at least for a while anyway) while trying to process the last week.

And WHAT a week it was!

As is always the case when the guys and I all get together, we laugh like there is no tomorrow.

My buddy Marek says that hanging out with the MPB is like hanging out with the Marx Brothers.

He’s right.
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“The Song Harvester EP – Vol. 1”

At any given time I’m working on about 80 different songs.
Some songs are almost done.
Some are just a thumbnail sketch.
Some are co-written.
Some songs I’ve been slogging away on my own for decades.
Other songs slide off my radar for years at a time.
Unless I’m recording an album tomorrow morning, some songs (ok most songs) I’ll complete and then completely forget that I wrote them.
Back in January, my buddy, Rob Smith (from Royalty Records) asked me if I’d ever thought of visiting these songs in a stripped-down (almost unplugged) fashion.
And with that, the seeds were planted for the album that would become “The Song Harvester.”
I spent the next month picking out songs and running sandpaper over them to ensure there were no rough edges.
Then I set up shop at home in our “walk-in” closet and slowly these songs came to life.
Once they started to take shape, I sent the tracks off to Ernie, Ryan and Jeff to record their parts from the comfort of their homes in Ontario.
My buddy Neil MacDonald, (who has been singing on my albums since 1997’s “Song and Dance, Man”) recorded his vocal tracks at home in Edmonton.
Ruby sang on “Motorbike.”
Once all the parts were recorded my pal Marek David mixed the album from his home in Victoria.
The album was mastered by Jim DeMain at YesMaster in Nashville.
Like my previous two albums, Steve Coffey provided the paintings for the cover.
For now, “The Song Harvester EP” is streaming everywhere, anywhere and wherever you listen to your music.

At some point, it’ll wind up on CD.
At some point, it’ll wind up on vinyl.
But for now, stream away!
Thanks for always being around,
Mike

“Steel Belted Radio”

In August of 1997, I was at a radio station in Calgary promoting our new song, “Rattle The Cage.” 

While on the air, the D.J. and I were laughing it up, going back and forth. 

Lots of fun. 

He played the song. 

“Alright, that was ‘Rattle The Cage’ by the Mike Plume Band.”

We were on a commercial break and I was packing up to leave when the D.J. said, “Man, I love that song. It’s too bad we can’t play it, but I like it. It’s a good song, man.” 

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Havelock, New Brunswick – 1978

There is something that happens when you walk back into the rink after the summer away.

As you take that first rush of cold air into your lungs, you are hit with a combination of smells.

The smell of dressing rooms.
Hockey equipment.
Ice (who knew ice had a smell?!?).
The Zamboni.
Skate sharpeners.
Hockey tape.
Rubber flooring.
Popcorn.
Black coffee.
The smell of the Concession stands grilling up burgers and dogs.
French fries.
Onion rings.

The smell of my youth.

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The C.I. West In Edmonton in August of 1988

In May of 1988, I took a gig fronting a rock band from Saskatoon called “Last Child”. 

As far as I was concerned, all my dreams had come true. 
I was on my way! 

We were playing six nights a week in towns like… 
Lloydminster. 
Camrose. 
Drayton Valley.
Turner Valley. 
Grand Prairie. 
Fort St. John. 
Dawson Creek 
Smithers. 
Kitimat. 
Prince Rupert. 

Life was good. 

But I’d been warned about taking care of my voice on the road. 
Warned about this. 
Warned about that. 
Warned about getting enough sleep.

Blah Blah Blah. 

But, I already knew everything, so I paid no attention. 

Then, one song into our two-week stand in Prince Rupert, I lost my voice. 

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