It's mid-April and spring is hesitant to arrive when I meet Aysanabee in Toronto's Trinity Bellwoods Park. It's a dull and chilly day (not exactly ideal park weather) but comfortable enough to be outside watching the dogs run around in the off-leash area.
Aysanabee admits that he would love to have a dog, but the two-time JUNO award-winning artist is on the road too often. Press materials state that he's performed 300 shows in Canada and internationally since 2021. He spent the beginning of 2025 touring Australia in support of his EP Here and Now before returning to Canada to play the eastern leg of his first headline tour — it wrapped up in late March with a sold-out show in his home base of Toronto.
When we chat, Aysanabee, who will release his second full-length album, Edge of the Earth, in June, is in the middle of a rare week off. But in a few days he will fly to Taiwan to take part in the Jade Music Festival. "I haven't had an extended period of time off for a long, long time," Aysanabee says, before adding with a smile, "There was a whole bunch of stuff that I wanted to do so I'd make little lists, but then I'd stay in bed longer than I needed to."
The extra rest is well-earned, given the busy schedule that Aysanabee has had since the release of his debut album Watin in 2022. Named after and inspired by Aysanabee's grandfather, a residential school survivor, Watin is an emotional mix of gospel-infused, alt-rock songs and recordings of phone calls Aysanabee had with his grandfather during the pandemic.
The album was shortlisted for the Polaris Music Prize in 2023, and that same year Aysanabee released Here and Now. The EP (a deluxe edition was released in 2024) won the 2024 JUNO Award for Alternative Album of the Year, while tracks like the fervid pop rock tune "Somebody Else" helped earn Aysanabee the JUNO for Songwriter of the Year. He is the first Indigenous person to ever win either award.
Aysanabee, who is Oji-Cree and a member of Sandy Lake First Nation, grew up near Thunder Bay and lived in the city for a few years before relocating to Toronto over a decade ago. He didn't know anybody in the city, but he was hopeful that the move would help kickstart his music career. He built community by playing open mic nights, meanwhile he was also earning a journalism degree. Before the pandemic, he was working as a journalist and music had become plan B.
"I thought that I'd be a hobby musician, and then my music career kind of started within the pandemic, whereas so many people's careers had the opposite effect," he acknowledges.
On Edge of the Earth, Aysanabee adds electronic beats and synths to his cinematic alt-rock style and the result is a more layered and bolder sound. Aysanabee co-wrote the album over the last couple of years with new and long-time collaborators, and many of the songs centre on heartbreak, loss, and navigating the world when it's turned upside down. "A lot of the [new] songs talk about leaving certain parts of myself behind," he explains. "I think that's been a theme for a lot of my music: talking about the past and the ways it informs how we move into the future."
Heightened by his richly captivating voice, the cathartic quality of Aysanabee's music is constant. In the chorus of "Without You," a single from Edge of the Earth, Aysanabee's grief over the loss of Watin, who passed away during the making of this record, reaches its peak when Aysanabee unleashes his booming voice to asks, "Am I without you?"
Despite the overcast day in the park, Aysanabee wears sunglasses with mirrored lenses. When I ask him questions, I end up looking at my own reflection and am faced with wondering how I would answer. The unintentional effect is not unlike that of his music — while deeply personal narratives have become a hallmark in his songwriting, you can find yourself in Aysanabee's music too.
"At some point after moving to Toronto, I started trying to make a product rather than an art project. When the pandemic hit and I became comfy with the fact that I might never make it as a musician, I just started getting back to writing songs about the things that are really personal and close to me," Aysanabee says.
"I started not trying to make music for other people, but to make something that I'm really proud of and that moves me. I think that really clicked with people too, though. There's a funny irony in that."