What the world desperately needs is more kitchen parties

The East Coast knows how to chase the madness from our lives

There is a certain magic in escaping the world’s worries, if only for a few moments. 

Which is why I’m stepping away from the political bent I usually deliver with this blog and instead share thoughts from an experience yesterday evening. It was one of those recharging episodes that can only be defined as a sanctuary, a place where music, tradition, family and friends sweep you into a current of emotions that leave you changed, uplifted, and deeply connected.

Tracey and I, along with several friends, attended the East Coast Music Awards Gala event in St. John’s. We sat facing centre-stage, amid the unwashed above the kitchen party of a VIP floor filled with tables and diners, drinks and grub. And we loved every minute of it.

For more than three decades, the ECMAs have delivered more than just an awards show; they are a five-day celebration of the East Coast’s vibrant musical heritage, drawing together artists and fans representing diverse music forms from Newfoundland and Labrador, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island. The event rotates annually among Atlantic Canadian cities and transforms each host community into a stage for hope, sorrow, respect, love, compassion — and the unbreakable bonds of friends and family.

With all the threat emerging from our wobbly neighbour to the south, this year’s event was a desperate diversion.

I am fairly new to the East Coast, just three years in and still immersing myself in its culture. I have become familiar with a number of bands and musicians, recognize tunes I should appreciate when they appear on the radio or, more regularly, from my wife’s smartphone and can do some semblance of a jig when called upon on the dance floor.

I understand the raw sorrow of a sea shanty, how it echoes the hardship endured by generations of mariners, and the buoyant hope that dances through a fiddle tune at a late-night kitchen party. These songs are not just performances — they are, as I said,  communal experiences binding strangers in a shared feeling.

Ah, the kitchen party.

It is a cherished East Coast tradition where music, laughter, and storytelling spill from the living room into the kitchen and back again. These gatherings, often spontaneous and always heartfelt, are the lifeblood of Maritime music culture. They embody the spirit of inclusion and camaraderie that defines the region, reminding us that music is not just to hear, but to be listened to and lived.

The ECMAs amplify this tradition, bringing it to a national stage. The event’s roots are in Irish, Scottish and Acadian folk music, the fiddles, accordions, and voices weaving together the old and the new.

But they are more than that. 

I had expected a regional — provincial — collection of performances that did justice to East Coast music. What I experienced instead was world-class, professional. 

And diverse.

Along with the East Coast folk, these polished acts introduced reggae and grunge, rap and even a little of what I can only describe as opera. It blew my mind to witness what was delivered in  St. John’s.

And it gave a rise to my spirit, lifted my soul and gave me hope for our troubled world.

In a time when headlines are filled with conflict and worry, the ECMAs offered a priceless reprieve. Last night, the troubles of the world receded, replaced by the simple joy of enjoying performers rich in talent and perseverance who despite the anarchy about them set perfect pitch and masterful chord.

What will linger as I move forward is not just the memory of extraordinary performances, but the feeling of being part of something enduring and true.

We are human. We are a family. And although there are a few who would remake the world to their own liking, there are so many others too creative, too committed to let that happen.

A shout out to Classified, Goldie Boutillier and Loveit. Kudos to the Irish Descendents and Shanneyganock, We loved you Kellie Loder, embraced you Jah'Mila and KAYO, Brett Mathews and Vishten.

And you Ennis Sisters? I hail from BC and had no clue who you were. Your tribute to the fallen last night knocked off my socks and I am now among the converted.

Yes, I was that guy last night who asked you outside the facility if it was OK to tell you I thought you were awesome.

I meant it. Every single word.

Thank you, All.