When I consider the music of singer-songwriter WiL, the word journeyman comes to mind. Not simply work ethic and artistic reliability, but in terms of being a man who initiates journeys. A musical chaperone, leading us to personal and revelatory destinations through song.
I met with WiL, aka Billy Mimnaugh at a pub in Qualicum Beach. I walked there; WiL rode a motorbike, a particular passion of his.
Not having met him yet, I wondered how easy it would be to pick him out from a crowd.
That’s him, I think.
Are you sure?
Pretty sure. Good energy, pepper-and-salt beard, friendly eyes. Yup, that’s the one.
I needn’t have worried about spotting him. WiL and I exchanged smiles, found a booth, and chatted like old friends. His radiance, albeit subdued, commands the space and his manner is a blend of gregarious, yet understated.
WiL’s had an amazing career, which he calls “cookie-cutter” within the industry, and perhaps for musicians in general.
I disagree, but that comes from admiration, knowing that success as an artist is anything but “cookie-cutter.”
WiL’s career has been packed with writing songs, recording, performing, getting signed by a major record label, making and selling albums, and touring. It sounds like the stuff of Guitar Hero fairy tales, but behind the scenes it’s all endless hard work, commitment, and drive, fuelled by a passion for music, storytelling, and song.
Prior to getting together, I’d been re-listening to WiL’s tracks, songs I consider folk-dusted rock: melancholy served with optimism and a side of positivity. In other words, he captured life, the way we all live it, and he does it exceedingly well.
I refer to the notion of his songs serving as journeys and ask WiL if he sees himself as someone who shares personal stories, and whether those stories are presented as mirrors, leaving it to listeners and audiences to see their own tales in the telling. What he says strikes a resonant chord.
“It’s all about human experience and connection,” WiL explains. “Using metaphor softens subject matter, and ambiguity allows for broader interpretation.” He nods as he speaks, communication with clarity.
WiL was born in Quebec’s Eastern Townships. His family moved to Alberta when he was a boy, giving him, in his words, “Surprisingly broad cultural references. Black friends, Asian friends, all in our small neighbourhood.”
I ask if that breadth of influence helped fuel his understanding of people, the feelings and goals that shine through in his songs. He nods. Then I ask him to tell me more about his life, and he walks me through his career as though he’s speed-reading, a lifetime in a flip-it cartoon, leading up to his present home studio in Errington.
“At 56, I’m at my fighting weight now”
“You pick up the guitar as a kid. Practice. Then you play bars—cover tunes, full houses, get mentored, write an album. Now I write, record, perform, sing and care greater—more than I ever have. At 56, I’m at my fighting weight now,” he says with a grin. “But I no longer want to make albums,” he adds. “I have eight studio albums, but my focus now is on singles.”
We chat about music these days being all about downloads, playlists, and streaming services. With his focus now on writing singles, stand alone musical tracks, I ask him to tell me his favourites.
“Oh, the last song written [the most recent] is always the best song I’ve ever made.”
I nod and smile back at WiL—as a fellow songwriter, this is something I understand. Every fresh iteration of music is its own introduction, a new chapter one.
We chat for a while about touring, and WiL shares a few big names he’s opened for across North America: Big Sugar, Feist, and Matthew Good Band.
WiL stresses the role of his mentors, and we circle back to our discussion of experience, storytelling, and connection.
“I see the company part as an extension of the song: the band, the performance, the audience”
Every song WiL shares, serves as “my story, your story.” This is reflected in the name of his band: WiL and Company, which is two musicians, WiL and his drummer, Keith Gallant. The “company” part, however, allows WiL to add or feature any number of musical guests and accompanists, to create varied music, instrumentation, and story-elements across shows.
“I see the company part as an extension of the song: the band, the performance, the audience,” he says. “It becomes a collaboration, a collective.”
Back at home, I re-visit WiL’s website, ibreakstrings.com. The name alone provides insight to the songwriter’s authenticity and humour.
His new single and a teaser trailer give a warm introduction. It’s like clasping hands with a friend. Of course, the music and vocals stand out: richly engaging, fresh, and unique. I see and hear WiL giving everything possible, and then a bit more. That sincerity shines through. Passionate songs, shared with passion.
