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On this day in 2017, Gord Downie died at the age of 53. The frontman for the iconic Canadian rock band The Tragically Hip left an undeniable mark on the country’s cultural landscape and its charts. In the years since, his legacy has been dissected and cemented, with tributes coming in from Drake to Justin Trudeau. He was a champion of Indigenous reconciliation, a rock and roll poet, one of the continent’s best performers. He was a lot of things at once.
For Gord Downie’s daughter Willo Downie, it’s been difficult to grapple with the public perception of her father — who he was to the country and who he was to her. Six years since we lost him, she feels ready to reflect on the lessons he taught her and how it squares with the man the world knew through his music and writing. Now that she’s establishing her own artistic career as a visual artist, Willo Downie feels grateful for the gift he gave her: a life of art, and of art as a way of life. — Billboard Canada digital editor Richard Trapunski

Here is Willo Downie’s remembrance of Gord Downie for Billboard Canada:

To live is to create, and what a gift that is.

The greatest gift we can give in thanks for our life is creation.

I know and feel this deeply. My dad taught me.

Six years after his death, I still grapple with the public’s perception of who my dad was. It often feels surreal and overwhelming to reconcile. To me, for so long, he was “just” my dad. King of my heart, as a young girl.

But Gord Downie threw himself earnestly into each of the roles he filled — and they were many, beyond that of being a truly amazing father.

I can recognize that more deeply as each year goes by and I grow older myself. My understanding of his legacy is a tapestry that will continue to weave itself into completion, forever.

For as long as I can remember, my dad kept his public life very separate from his private life. His family, of course, fell under the arm of “private.” I will endeavour to respect that boundary even now, while I dive into what I consider to be a celebration of the beautiful life he led, here, in this piece.

Dad had cultivated his creativity within and around him until it had become the very foundation of his being by the time he turned thirty. And then he became a father. It’s one of my greatest points of pride — to have come from and been raised by a man who embodied, fully, what it meant to create one’s own life as though it were a work of art.

Your frame of mind. Your inner world. Your surroundings. Your relationships. Your work. It was all art to him — to be molded and shaped with diligence and intention.

The notion that we, as humans, are inherently creative beings permeated most decisions made and the interests us kids pursued… Music, painting and sculpture, food, dance, sports. Everything had an inherent beauty to it, in our parents’ eyes. Art was a vessel that could hold history, the opportunity for activism, a way to process pain and a way to celebrate joy.

I’ll never forget my school’s grade 9 “Take Your Kid To Work Day.” Dad took me to the Art Gallery of Ontario. We spent the entire day there, absorbing each of the collections and exhibits, together. He taught me a lot about the Group of Seven that day. Emily Carr, too.

I try to retrieve the reasoning behind that choice of his sometimes… of why he’d choose the AGO, of all places. In hindsight, I think he was trying to relay the message that his “career” was so much more to him than just one discipline, one art form. It was a way of life — the choice to move through the world in pursuit of beauty and truth. He was setting that example for me, too.

Fast forward a few years, and I can remember a specific conversation with my dad. I was choosing what to do after high school.

“Willo, what makes you happy?”

“A lot of things, dad…”

“What can’t you live without?”

“I need to paint”

“Then do that”

Then the doubt set in, and he responded, “Willo, choose, and you’ll make a way.”

That last line always stuck with me. This guy never minced his words. His choice to say “you’ll make a way” could very well have been “you’ll find a way” or, “the way will make itself known to you.” But he had chosen to try to empower me instead, to create the life and career I so desperately wanted — needed — in order to feel complete.

He was a man who continually chose to try, try, and try again. His dedication and discipline in his work got him to a place from which he was able to create with such output and raw, undiluted honesty. It was awe-invoking. Truly. The guy didn’t have an “off-switch.” He wouldn’t dare tamp down his life force — his will to create or advocate for others — for anything.

And so, his legacy: He lived to create, and he created, in pursuit of a loving, full life.

What an example to have set.

Here is a painting by Willo Downie with Gord Downie’s handwriting superimposed on top:

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This article was originally published by Billboard Canada.

Toronto musician Mustafa has posted an open letter to Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, pleading with him to support the people of Palestine and “defy this active genocide and imprisonment that is levelling Gaza.” This comes after Israel declared a state of war against Hamas on Oct. 9.
Mustafa, then going by Mustafa The Poet, met the prime minister at a Black liberation event and eventually served as the Ontario representative in Trudeau’s youth council 10 years ago. Calling Trudeau his “old acquaintance,” Mustafa asks him to fight for the lives of Palestinian civilians, in particular the women and children, affected by Israel’s offensive.

The artist highlights Canada’s own past with colonial oppression. Mustafa asks Trudeau to join past leaders like Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu on “the right side of history in the liberation of Palestine.”

My (now) open letter to an old acquaintance; Prime Minister Justin Trudeau- on Palestine, genocide, & our indigenous population pic.twitter.com/7Nqhemf7Up
— Mustafa (@MustafaThePoet) October 16, 2023

Read Mustafa’s full letter below:

Justin Trudeau,

We met a decade ago, to jog your memory we participated in an event for black liberation together before you were the prime minister of Canada.

When you were appointed prime minister, I served on the first ever youth council as your Ontario rep., we travelled this endless country together in search of some semblance of democracy.. You have your flaws in leadership, but in our time together I sensed a heart in you.

I know you have a political & economic responsibility to Israel. I remember our time in Calgary was clipped because you had to immediately fly to Tel Aviv for the funeral of war criminal Ariel Sharon. I knew and you knew there was no say in the matter of your attendance for this man you did not know.

I’m asking you to use the same tongue that defended Israel & condemned Hamas to defy this active genocide and imprisonment that is levelling Gaza, that is burying & disfiguring children and women.

I’m asking you to use our people’s tax dollars that have been exhausted to support the most funded & violent state in the world to also protect the relentlessly tormented people of Palestine.

So much of our time together was about undoing the iniquities that were done to our Indigenous population, a hopeless pursuit for this already stolen land — for the decades and decades of ethnic cleansing that they’re still recovering from, how could we ever undo what can’t be forgiven or rectified?

A century from now, when they contemplate your legacy Prime Minister, will you be recalled as a custodian of this unforgivable genocide, this ethnic cleansing, this stolen land? Your battle here in Canada will have been for nothing.

Nelson Mandela, Albert Einstein, Desmond Tutu, Jimmy Carter, join these respected leaders on the right side of history in the liberation of Palestine.

Solidarity with the oppressed and the erased,

Mustafa Ahmed,

Regent Park, Toronto

Hours after Mustafa posted his letter on X, an air raid struck a Gaza hospital, killing at least 500 people. This prompted Trudeau to tweet about the tragedy, stating accountability must be held for those responsible.

I’m horrified by the loss of life at Al Ahli Arab hospital in Gaza. My thoughts are with those who lost loved ones. It is imperative that innocent civilians be protected and international law upheld. Together, we must determine what happened. There must be accountability.
— Justin Trudeau (@JustinTrudeau) October 18, 2023

Mustafa has also released the first song, “Name of God” from of his upcoming full-length album debut. A devout Muslim himself, Mustafa reflects on the loss of his brother and his relationship with God.

[embedded content]

In true Mustafa fashion, this single also came with a heartfelt message in his own words:

I never felt like the Nubian prince my father seen in me through his tinted lens. I try their dance, their prayer- I always fall short.

& Gods name wasn’t always related to beauty for me, but to hopelessness, this Islam we share and Allah we call for while witnessing a constant violence that continues to

bind us, I don’t think I ever felt completely Muslim among other Muslims,

All these sub-beliefs like borders. My aunts in all their wisdom and narrowness-one Sufi spinning into remembrance, one refuting the taking of a photograph.

When my big brother was killed in what will always feel like yesterday, knowing the suspected murderer was someone he held as a friend, someone he prayed with- it led me to believe that maybe his love was his end? Maybe where there is no love, parting from love keeps us alive? Maybe ending in love is the only way to actually begin? I don’t know.

The only clear memory from the days of his death were my parents reciting in unison, “oh Allah, we accept his passing, we accept what you ordained.”

I’m desperate to love God like them.

Our faith and our hearts are too often our demise- I know a field of young niggas dreaming that can testify to this. For better or worse we’ll uncover every bone beneath our hollow laughter, our confused affection; maybe its revealed in our final gasp for meaning.

Until then.

Bismillah, In the Name of God, 10.17.23

Mustafa recently made an appearance during the Daniel Caesar Toronto show on Oct.13. Alongside Charlotte Day Wilson and Caesar, Mustafa performed “Old Man’ by Neil Young in an unconventional encore broadcast live from the green room at Scotiabank Arena.

This article was originally published by Billboard Canada.

Punjabi music history is being made in Canada. An innovative new wave of diasporic artists is blurring boundaries between genres and setting chart records. They’re blending traditional and contemporary sounds to create something undeniably their own — and it’s spreading worldwide.

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See latest videos, charts and news

With its massive population and an ultra-profitable entertainment film and music industry, India is one of the top entertainment markets in the world. Punjabi music has emerged in its own right, with labels like New York hip-hop legend Nas’s Mass Appeal and Universal Music teaming up to spotlight the music in both India and North America. This year, singer/actor Diljit Dosanjh became the first to play a set at Coachella entirely in Punjabi.

It’s not only an Indian phenomenon, but a Canadian one. Diplomatically, the relationship between the two countries is suddenly tense, but it hasn’t dulled the power of the music. There are over 2.5 million people of South Asian heritage in Canada, and they account for some of the most popular music on both sides of the world. Three of the top 10 tracks in India in 2022 were made by Canadian artists. On Spotify, the top streamed track was “Excuses” by AP Dhillon, Gurinder Gill and Intense, who broke out from British Columbia. Canada, where artists blend cultural heritages fluidly, is proving to be fertile ground for an international movement of genre-spanning music.

Collectively, artists like Dhillon, Gill, Karan Aujla, Jonita Gandhi and Ikky continue to amass billions of streams on Spotify and YouTube and perform on the country’s biggest stages. They’ve starred in documentaries, collaborated with hip-hop stars like YG, and turned audiences who might not speak a word of Punjabi into overnight diehards.

But despite all of their measurable success, it’s taken the Canadian music industry a long time to recognize and support the artists who have been proving themselves on their own terms. That’s finally starting to change, even during a challenging time.

Recently, Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau set off a diplomatic crisis when he accused the Indian government of potential involvement in the assassination of Sikh activist and Canadian citizen Hardeep Singh Nijjar. Tensions have been rising between the two countries since then, and artists have simultaneously found themselves facing scrutiny. Just weeks ago, Punjabi-Canadian rapper and singer Shubh had his Indian tour cancelled after facing criticism for sharing a piece of art that he says was politically misinterpreted.

“We are trying to make art that helps people on an individual level, regardless of their colour, race, religion, nationality [or] gender,” writes Dhillon in a recent Instagram post. “Division has gotten us to this point but unity is the key to the future.”

For Punjabi-Canadian artists, this is not a time to shrink away from the spotlight. It’s a time to engage and spread their music around the world. It’s a culmination of years of work that is now coming to fruition in a major way.

A home for Punjabi music in Canada

Karan Aujla and Ikky have some serious bragging rights.

Their addictive summer pop album Making Memories debuted at No. 5 on the Billboard Canadian Albums chart, making it the highest-charting Punjabi album debut in Canadian history. At launch, it sat above Midnights, the newest album from arguably the largest pop star in the world.

“All of my friends were joking around telling me, yo, you passed Taylor Swift!” Aujla tells Billboard Canada. “When we saw these numbers, and we saw that mark, we thought, okay, something is happening here.”

This summer, Warner Music Canada and Warner Music India came together to launch 91 North Records, a new label aimed at supporting South Asian artists across borders. At their industry launch event at their new office in Toronto, Warner Music Canada’s president Kristen Burke called the label a reflection of significant changes in the Canadian music industry.

The rise of music streaming and social media networks like TikTok have built worldwide exposure to music beyond local radio and opened the doors to new and different sounds. There’s been a rise in popularity for artists from all over the world, especially Punjabi music. “This music deserves a platform on the global stage and a dedicated label based in Toronto,” she said.

Ikky, the 22-year-old producer born Ikwinder Singh, is the label’s creative director. Internationally renowned playback singer Jonita Gandhi is one of their first signings. Gandhi, who sings in various regional Indian languages including Hindi, Tamil, Telugu and Punjabi, said at the launch that she sometimes has a hard time figuring out where she belongs, but feels right at home at 91 North. “I feel like I’m finally being seen,” she remarked.

Ikky says 91 North gives him a chance to think beyond himself and build a unified front amongst the new Punjabi wave. The goal, he says, is to get Punjabi artists to a point where they can compete on a global level next to the biggest artists in the world. It’s not just global outreach, but major label infrastructure that he says many artists in India desperately need.

Aujla says that’s something he struggled with before he signed with Warner Canada and Warner India. He came to Surrey, British Columbia, from the small village of Ghurala in India’s Punjab state when he was 17 and built a career writing for other artists. But he didn’t know how he was supposed to be compensated for it. He’d never heard of SOCAN, for instance, which represents rights holders for music in Canada.

“When I was young, I didn’t know what I was doing. I really needed help,” he says. “I wrote over a hundred songs and didn’t know I was supposed to get royalties. Some people around me took advantage. And that’s still happening in Punjab a lot. It needs to be corrected ASAP.”

Back home, he says, some people actually pay TV stations and record labels to play their music, not vice versa. “They don’t know what’s going on with the business side of music,” he says. “But now they’re starting to know.”

Paving the path

One of the biggest stars of Punjabi music is AP Dhillon, whose mix of trap beats and melodic lyricism has made him a champion of Punjabi culture in both India and North America. AP Dhillon: First of a Kind, a recent Prime Video docu-series about his rapid rise, follows Dhillon, his collaborators Shinda Kahlon and Gurinder Gill, and his small team at Run-Up Records as they embark on their first Canadian tour.

Dhillon’s very first show was at his hometown hockey rink, Vancouver’s nearly 19,000-seat Rogers Arena, and it only went up from there. Though the venues may be large, staying small and independent helps him keep his vision in his own hands, where he collaborates on everything from production to music videos. But it wasn’t a conscious choice. It was a necessity.

“Early on, I tried to send my music to a few labels, to people in the industry. I tried to message producers,” Dhillon recounts. “It wasn’t going anywhere. They weren’t grabbing it. They were like ‘this ain’t it.’ So we just kept going, kept going, kept going, and we didn’t stop.”

Gurinder Gill, his former collaborator who’s now striking out on his own, had never even been to a concert before performing for crowds of more than 10,000.

“The first concert we went to was our own,” he says. “One day you’re living your daily life and then, boom, next thing you know you’re on stage with this many people cheering on your music, cheering your name. It’s just a blessing.”

For major concert promoters, the numbers are becoming too big to ignore. Baldeep Randhawa is a talent buyer at Live Nation, and he says the company has big plans for Punjabi artists in Canada, the United States and the U.K. “We’re all collectively working on this on a global scale to really put some fuel on this fire,” he says from his office in Vancouver.

Used to seeing major Punjabi acts play in banquet halls and wedding venues, his initial goal was to break barriers and get them into “proper venues” of 500 capacity or more. The growth has been so rapid, however, that the company now has their sights set much higher: stadiums. That’s an achievable goal for artists like Dhillon and Diljit Dosanjh, who have already easily sold out arenas in cities like Toronto and Vancouver. But the strategy also includes breaking up-and-coming acts, like Calgary-based Prabh, who already have tens of millions of streams. Often, that means giving them the support they never had access to, which sometimes includes PR, management, even advice on merchandise.

That’s something new for many Punjabi artists, who are able to get huge numbers quickly without the tools to properly capitalize. For Gill, before coming to Canada as a student in 2015, he didn’t seriously consider pursuing music as a career. Though he’d perform at local singing competitions in Punjab, it wasn’t until he found a small community of friends who shared his passion for music that he realized music could be something bigger.

“We were not financially stable [at first], and we were finishing school,” he says. “It was a lot of work when we started taking it seriously. We had to do everything by ourselves.”

Now, his tracks have garnered billions of streams worldwide. His debut solo album, Hard Choices, which dropped this summer on Run-Up Records, showcases his lyrical prowess, blending Punjabi imagery, melodies and confident wordplay over steady hip-hop and trap beats. It represents a willingness to innovate, which is something he and his peers all share.

“We always try to do something new, something that hasn’t been done before,” he says. “That’s why the songs we release are a different sound for our industry or for the mainstream.”

A sound that crosses borders

The new sound of Punjabi music reflects a sensibility more than a genre. Combining classical folk stylings with elements of hip-hop, R&B and electronic music, it’s music that refuses to be limited.

Bhangra, an upbeat folk dance and music native to Punjab that originally celebrated the harvest season, is known for its accompaniment with live instruments like the dhol drum. Noticing a lack of heavy bass, artists in the 1980s and 90s began merging it with funk, reggae, dub and garage music that punctuated British soundwaves, making a global impact. In the process, artists have created points of connection for youth who may otherwise have been alienated from their language, art and culture — which is increasingly challenging to preserve with generations of migration.

Following this tradition, Punjabi-Canadian artists have put themselves on the map by creating music reflective of their specific worlds of influence. That’s especially true in multicultural cities like Toronto, where diverse sounds flow organically.

Gandhi, who has fielded questions about sounding “too Indian” or “too Western” throughout her career, says she now appreciates the blend of global influences that defined her early life in the Greater Toronto Area city of Brampton. “Being exposed to so many different cultures and people from around the world in my school opened up my mind to a lot of music that I might not have come across if I grew up somewhere else,” she says.

Ikky, who was born in Rexdale and now lives in Brampton too, says his music is also inextricable from his upbringing. The essence of his Punjabi heritage is in everything he makes, but so are reggae and dancehall, hip-hop and R&B, because those were the influences he was growing up around. “Our diversity is crazy in Toronto,” he says, “enough for you to be adding these cultures in your music without you ever knowing it.”

Ikky pushed Aujla to expand his sound while recording Making Memories in Toronto. None of his collaborators spoke Punjabi, but they built a shared musical language in the studio while jamming and trading records. Ikky curated an inspo playlist on Spotify ranging from hip-hop (Drake, J. Cole, Mobb Deep, 50 Cent, DJ Khaled) to R&B (Aaliyah, Ashanti, Keyshia Cole) to reggae (Wayne Wonder) to Punjabi-Canadian forebears (Jazzy B). You can hear it all in the smooth, effortless vibes of the music.

Aujla prides himself on being a writer first, but he’s proud of the cross-cultural audience his music is reaching. He’s a big fan of Bad Bunny, and he’s been obsessively listening to the Puerto Rican artist recently, trying to figure out how his specific melodies feel so universal despite the language barrier. Latin artists are dominating charts in and out of Latin America, and that inescapable global power is within reach for Punjabi artists.

“It’s just that one thing that we need to get right and what’s happened with Spanish music could happen to Punjabi music,” Aujla says. “We’re working day and night to get that right sound, that right melody that will just go everywhere in the world.”

A sound that lasts

Meanwhile, they’re still fighting for recognition at home. At this year’s Juno Awards, AP Dhillon did something that has never been done before.

Donning a dapper white tux, he crooned his recent single “Summer High,” giving the first ever Punjabi performance at Canada’s biggest music gala. It was a big breakthrough moment of recognition from the industry, but Dhillon says he fought to make sure it wouldn’t be a novelty or a one-off.

“I had a thorough talk with them before performing. I said ‘I’m honoured to do it. But there’s one condition: you gotta put my people on.’” he recalls. “It’s not a one-time thing that helps sell tickets for the Junos and then call it a day. Punjabi music will be there forever.”

Musicians are seeing the shift, and not just in the places you might expect.

This summer, Ikky was booked at the Calgary Stampede, an annual festival best known for rodeo exhibitions and cowboy boots. Ikky, who is Sikh, heeded warnings that people in Alberta tend to experience racism more acutely than in Ontario. Knowing he would be the first Punjabi artist to perform there, he arrived ready to DJ country songs. But his plans quickly changed.

“I intended to go there and play Morgan Wallen. That is what I really thought I was gonna go do,” he laughs. “As soon as I saw the mixture of people there, I was like, no, we gotta go completely Punjabi. We gotta give what defines Punjabi music.”

By the end of the set, people had come from rides and from queues to hear the music that was coming from that street stage, and by the end the crowd grew to about a thousand people. “That’s that moment where I thought, okay, what you’re doing is right. Keep your foot on the gas.”

That’s still the case, even as artists like Shubh (who Ikky collaborated with on last year’s “Baller”) face obstacles to free expression and risk misinterpretation for things they do or don’t say. In a way, it shows how much their music is resonating.

“It scares us a little, but at the same time it shows our power,” Ikky says. “As artists, we have a big enough voice to shake a country.”

There have been teases of this kind of mainstream crossover in the past, from “Beware of the Boys,” the Bhangra/hip-hop collaboration of Panjabi MC and Jay-Z in the early 2000s, to the “international” version of Shania Twain’s 2002 mega-seller Up!, but while those fusions have been taken as short-term novelties, the new wave of Punjabi artists are building a foundation to make it endure.

Brampton-based rapper Sidhu Moose Wala was a major figure in opening the door to the mainstream for Punjabi musicians. Tragically murdered in India in 2022, the same year his album Moosetape became the then-highest charting Punjabi album in Canada, he is unable to see the success of this new wave, many of whom collaborated or took inspiration from him. That’s why these artists stress the importance of banding together to uplift each other, paving the path for the next generation.

AP Dhillon says he’s seeing the industry change rapidly. When he started to blow up, the labels weren’t seeing what he and his peers were doing. Today, like billions of people on YouTube and at concerts, they have their eyes on what’s happening here.

“A few years ago, nobody was paying attention,” he says. “Now, they’re paying attention.”

This story originally appeared on Billboard Canada.

Ishmil Waterman, Lane Dorsey, Sasha Jairam/Billboard Canada

On Tuesday (Sept. 19) evening in Toronto, Debby Friday won the 2023 Polaris Music Prize for her debut album, Good Luck. 
Accepting the award for best Canadian album of the year and an accompanying $50,000 prize, the Toronto-based industrial electronic artist was as pleasantly surprised as anyone in the audience at Toronto’s Massey Hall.

“I’m in shock!” she said through both laughter and tears. “This is something I didn’t even realize was a possibility. I was born in Nigeria in a small village. Now I’m here today, and it just feels like a miracle.”

Now in its 18th year, the award continues to evolve and surprise. Chosen by a panel of music journalists and professionals, it’s the closest thing the country has to a pure critics’ prize – an award that disregards factors like record label, genre and chart position to focus solely on the always slippery concept of “artistic merit.” That makes it harder to predict than any other award in the country, but it makes it a good barometer for the critical conversation in Canadian music. 

Once criticized for awarding only indie rock artists, the Polaris Prize is now a testament to the genre-less diversity of expression within the country’s borders. Debby Friday’s music is uncategorizable – a mix of pulsing beats, adventurous production and brash, swaggering vocals equally influenced by hip-hop and punk. 

On a purely sonic level, it’s distinct from previous winners such as Afrobeats artist Pierre Kwenders, rappers Cadence Weapon and Backxwash and producer Kaytranada, but it fits within the recent trend to reward artists who push at the limits of genre and create new sounds out of deeply personal influences. If Canadian music is defined by anything, it’s easy cultural fluency, an ability to mix different sounds and multicultural traditions almost by second nature. 

Despite her confident and aggressive delivery, Debby Friday’s live performance of “So Hard to Tell” instead stood out with dreamy melodicism. Over electronic production, live guitar and a mini-string section of viola and cello, her vocals sounded yearning and emotional. It stood out as a memorable performance in a night filled with many. 

With lengthy changeovers between performances that seemed to cater more to the CBC Music cameras than the in-person audience, last year’s gala at the Carlu in Toronto dragged on over a tiring four hours. This year, they swung hard in the other direction. Seven out of 10 of the shortlisted artists played live on the famous stage of Massey Hall (Daniel Caesar, Feist and Alvvays were on tour and unable to be there), and it often felt more like a concert than an awards show. It moved briskly over two hours and kept the focus on the music – no livestream, no extended gaps and, notably, no host at all. 

In a way, that approach stayed true to the Polaris ethos, keeping the focus solely on the music. But if the intention is to put the spotlight on Canadian music people might not know, it lacked some important context. There’s a potent story behind The Sadies’ shortlisted album Colder Streams, but it wasn’t told directly. It was the long-running psychedelic country band’s final album with founding guitarist Dallas Good, who tragically passed away during its recording. The Sadies are no stranger to Massey Hall’s stage, collaborating over the years with legendary performers like Neil Young and Gord Downie, so seeing them play as a trio – Dallas’s brother Travis Good taking center stage – felt jarring yet poignant. The late Dallas wasn’t mentioned by name, but an image of him onscreen spoke a thousand words. 

Indigenous songwriter Aysanabee, meanwhile, played a recording of his grandfather talking about his harrowing experience at residential school. (From the time of the first settlements until shockingly recent, Indigenous children were often taken from their families and forcefully assimilated, which is now recognized by Canada as a form of cultural genocide). It added shades of emotion to an already powerful performance, aided by his intense, soulful vocals. 

Indie-folk singer-songwriter Dan Mangan also injected some heaviness, singing songs “for anyone feeling the weight” and playing to the venue’s famous acoustics by gathering his two bandmates to sing three-part harmonies into one mic. 

With no host, it was up to the artists to do the heavy lifting. Or, in the case of the night’s best performance, deconstruct the whole awards show context. Hip-hop duo Snotty Nose Rez Kids, who hail from the Haida nation, built a whole talk show set, with a host named “too tall Paul” who mispronounced their name and interrupted their banter. Then, the recent Sony Music Canada signees got up on stage and brought the house down with the bouncing “Damn Right” from their EP I’m Good, HBU? Their infectious energy and bratty punchlines (maybe the only song played at Massey Hall with the word “dingleberry”) won over a notably low-energy industry crowd and earned the biggest ovation of the night. 

That raised spirits for the announcement of the winner. When last year’s winner Pierre Kwenders revealed Debby Friday’s vinyl record from a Polaris Prize briefcase, the house came down. She thanked anyone who had been with her since her early EP BITCHPUNK and spoke to the power of being different. “I’ve always been a bit strange,” she said. “In retrospect, I see that’s a superpower.”

At a time when the country’s music critics are facing a crisis of disappearing outlets for arts coverage, the Polaris Prize also feels like it’s searching for an identity under executive director Amber Moyle, who took over last year. The best route is to follow Debby Friday’s advice: keep it weird. 

Warner Music’s affiliates in Canada and India are teaming up for 91 NORTH RECORDS, a joint venture with the aim of identifying and launching artists of South Asian heritage.
Said to be a first-of-its-kind JV, the new entity is guided by celebrated artist and producer Ikwinder “Ikky” Singh, who has chalked up more than two billion combined streams with such songs as Shubh’s “Baller”, Diljit Dosanjh’s “Chauffeur” and Sidhu Moose Wala’s “Bambiha Bole”. 

Ikky, who launched his own label, 4N Records, in partnership with Warner Music and Coalition Music in 2021, serves as creative director for 91 NORTH RECORDS.

The venture launches to the public today (Aug. 23) with its first signings, Canadian-based Punjabi artists Karan Aujla and Jonita Gandhi, both of whom work closely with Ikky and A&R director Charlie B.

“I’ve always been fascinated by the blending of Indian and Western sounds into culturally impactful, innovative music,” Ikky comments in a statement. The new business “exists to elevate artists pursuing this fusion. Punjabi and South Asian music already competes worldwide, and I’m thrilled to collaborate with emerging talents, showcasing and amplifying what they have to offer. This is no experiment; it’s the future.”

91 NORTH RECORDS was presented Tuesday with a special event at Warner Music Canada’s offices in Toronto. Its name is a reference to India’s country code and Canada’s geographical location, and the logo is inspired by India’s national flower — the lotus.

“There is an incredible new generation of talent rising, influenced by their South Asian heritage, and we want to make sure these artists are represented both here and around the world,” comments Kristen Burke, president, Warner Music Canada. The label “allows artists to be truly authentic, and our global network gives us the opportunity to showcase their culture on a global stage.”

Adds Jay Mehta, managing director, Warner Music India: “This is certainly going to be a gamechanger initiative for artists who will now have global support from A&R, marketing, collaborations and more.”

Canada is home to almost 2.6 million people of South Asian heritage. Those expats have a “strong musical connection” with the subcontinent, reads a joint statement from Warner Music Canada and Warner Music India.

Punjabi-Canadian acts accounted for three of the top 10 tracks in India last year, according to data supplied by IFPI. 

WARNING: This story contains allegations of sexual violence and other graphic content that may be upsetting or triggering to some readers.
Former electro-rock singer Noire says her dream of becoming a professional artist ended May 18, 2009, after Toronto radio promoter Adrian Strong lured the then-28-year-old from Toronto to South Carolina with the promise of a potential record deal. Strong, the president of DMD Entertainment — then the premier radio promotion service in Canada for Top 40 records — and a music industry veteran with a history of breaking singles at Canadian radio, told Noire that the founders of a new Atlanta label urgently wanted to meet her in Hilton Head Island, S.C., after he played them her dark-pop demos. Instead, she alleges he drugged, raped and held her captive over an 18-hour period at a Marriott hotel in Charleston, and cut a nearly one-inch-long piece of her scalp.

“The cruelest thing Adrian did was leaving me alive,” says Noire, who asked that her birth name not be used. Now 42, she lives in Los Angeles and long gave up her aspirations of a music career. She tells Billboard she “ran away” from Toronto in July 2010 because she had a mental breakdown. “People are like, ‘Well, you survived that,’” says Noire who wears her hair in a side-sweep to hide the scar and bald patch. “But you don’t understand how I keep my head together: It’s not by telling myself ‘I survived it;’ it’s by telling myself, ‘No, I died in that. This is the afterlife.’”

Encouraged by the #MeToo movement and concerned that Strong — whose company has worked singles to radio by The Weeknd, deadmau5, Arcade Fire, Marshmello, Sofi Tukker, Steve Aoki, Sum 41 and Broken Social Scene — still works in an industry rife with young women looking for a break, Noire decided to go public on Nov. 1, 2019, by posting a photo of him on her Instagram page, @californianoire, with red arrows pointing at his face and the words, “INCEL RAPIST” scrawled in red above him. Accompanying the image was a graphic account of what she says happened to her that weekend in 2009, including her charge that Strong cut “a section of my scalp out as a souvenir.”

The post rapidly circulated around the Canadian music industry but had little impact, if any, on Strong’s career. The holidays came and went, followed by the pandemic. DMD continued to be hired.

Courtesy Photo

Shortly after Noire’s post went live, Strong, who was very active on Instagram and Facebook — where he boasted about the successes of his clients — stopped posting but kept his accounts.

Noire posted about Strong again on April 25, 2022, after seeing a photo of him with other Canadian music figures at that year’s Coachella music festival, where The Weeknd performed with Swedish House Mafia. She reposted the picture, calling out Strong’s “industry friends” and accusing him of being a “Canadian music industry serial rapist” and “this monster who raped and mutilated me.” The following day, Strong’s Instagram, @strongstyles, was deleted; less than three months later so was his Facebook account. (On July 7, 2023, Strong restored his Facebook and Instagram accounts, the latter with all photos deleted.)

(Editor’s note: Bliss, a long-time music journalist in Canada, has known Strong for decades and was able to verify his email and messenger handles. She was also Facebook friends with him and followed his Instagram until they were deactivated.)

Over the three-plus years that followed Noire’s initial post, five women sent empathetic messages on Instagram, telling her they had similar experiences with Strong. Of those, two agreed to be interviewed for this story provided they were identified by pseudonyms. The women — one was 18 when she met him; the other was in her mid-20s — both accused Strong of using his power and position in the music industry to extort sexual favors.

Another woman who is not connected to the entertainment business and initially spoke on the record, said she was raped by Strong the first time they met in person after connecting on the dating site Seeking Arrangement and remained in contact with him for years because she says he had taken explicit videos of her without consent and was afraid he would leak them online. After sharing her story in a two-hour Zoom interview, she decided she was not ready to share full details of her account publicly but confirmed that aspects of her experience with Strong were similar or nearly identical to the other women’s accounts.

In response to emails sent to Strong detailing the allegations against him, he issued a statement through his U.S. attorney, Daniel Watkins, a partner at Clare Locke. “I categorically deny sexually assaulting or drugging anyone,” says Strong, who provided one email, four photographs and one message exchange — which are referenced in this story — that he adds, “confirms that these serious charges are untrue.”

“In the past decade, our industry has gone through a lot of change when it comes to understanding power dynamics,” Strong’s statement also reads. “In my 20s and 30s I had romantic relationships with artists — that were consensual — which was not uncommon in the industry. I am now accused of being sexually abusive and using my position in an exploitative way during that time. I wholeheartedly deny these claims,” he continues, adding, “These allegations have given me pause to reflect on what I have done or could be doing better. I never intended to cause anyone pain.”

In June, Strong took an administrative leave from DMD. Weeks later, the company was shuttered, and two of Strong’s former colleagues opened a new radio promotion company.

The women who spoke to Billboard — their accounts span a 10-year period, with Noire’s being the earliest, and the most recent in late 2019 — provided screenshots of text, email and social media direct message exchanges from Strong, along with evidence of gifts, such as spa treatments and money transfers sometimes in suggestive amounts of $69 or $169. Strong often referred to himself as “Daddy” and asked the women to wear short skirts and knee socks. Those who allege Strong sexually assaulted them say that in the days that followed, he would insist that they “had a good time” and sometimes asked if they were “okay.”

Another five sources for this story, four of them men, say they witnessed Strong exhibit sexually aggressive or inappropriate behavior towards young women. One says he was out of town at a music conference and saw Strong behave “all grabby” towards his employee, a young radio tracker, who later called him “slurring her words and believing [Strong] put something in her drink.” When he went downstairs to the hotel lobby to ensure she got to her room safely, he says he watched security intervene when Strong tried to physically prevent his employee from entering the building.

Another man says his female friend, then a 22-year-old singer, felt so threatened by Strong’s advances during a business trip to Savannah, Ga., that he bought her an airplane ticket to fly home. (The flight receipt was reviewed by Billboard. Through the men, both women declined to share their stories.)

All the women interviewed say Strong dropped famous clients’ names, which they perceived as attempts to impress them. Two of the women were pursuing careers in music at the time; another said Strong claimed he could make her famous using Auto-Tune, even though she couldn’t sing and had no interest in doing so. A fourth was pursuing an acting career.

Except for Noire, none of the women filed police reports. Noire lodged complaints with Canadian law enforcement upon her return home, and later with Charleston police. Copies of those reports viewed by Billboard indicate that the case was closed “due to lack of prosecution” and jurisdiction issues.

Three of the women who spoke to Billboard say they left Canada and their friends and family to rebuild their lives far from Strong. (One has since moved back.).

Since the impact of the #MeToo movement in 2017, considerable strides have been made in the way sexual assault is treated by police, and the willingness of women to go public with their experiences, even years or decades later.

A 2019 report issued by the Canadian government on systemic problems plaguing law enforcement’s handling of sexual offenses and the effects of the #MeToo and #BeenRapedNeverReported movements, detailed a “distrust of the system, from making a complaint through to a courtroom verdict” as a “profound and longstanding barrier to the enforcement of sexual offences.” The report also cited an investigation by national newspaper The Globe and Mail that “confirmed and reinforced victim distrust of the system” and found that one in every five reports of sexual assault made to the police was dismissed and catalogued as “unfounded.” This meant on average 5,000 cases of sexual violence per year were reported, but dropped because the complainants were “not believed.” Quoting the article, the government report posited that this “reinforce[d] damaging myths that women lie about sexual victimization,” which could act as a “deterrent to already low reporting.”

In Canada, there is no statute of limitations for sexual assault. It is also a criminal offense to surreptitiously take, distribute, publish, transmit or advertise intimate photos or video of a person without consent.

According to Strong’s recently deleted LinkedIn profile, he became president of DMD in 2002, and the following year began working radio in Canada for Patrick Moxey’s then-upstart EDM label Ultra. In 2006, he created the music publishing and management company StrongSongs, under which he had a management contract with one of his accusers. In 2010, while still president of DMD, he was named co-president of Ultra Records Canada.

As is typical in radio promotion, DMD’s bigger clients were mostly record labels, such as Ultra, Sony Music Canada and Wax Records, which hired the company to promote their artists’ music. As a result, spokespersons for several of the acts DMD claimed as clients say they had no direct contact with — and in some cases, had never heard of — Strong or the company he ran. Ultra Records Canada co-president Asim “Awesome” Awan, and Wax Records co-owners Ron Morse and Jamie Appleby, did not respond to requests for comment. Sony Music Canada had no comment.

Noire, who was born in Trinidad and Tobago and immigrated with her family to Toronto in 1986, met Strong — who goes by his middle name, Adrian, not his first, Nicholas — in Toronto at the Canadian Music Week conference and festival in March 2009. “I had just completed a 10-song album and was at CMW to make connections with people in music who could help me with my next steps,” she says. “I hadn’t released any music but was already playing little shows out in Toronto with two backup dancers.” She says Strong approached her in the hotel lobby, told her he is a radio tracker and offered to introduce her to his contacts.

Noire

Courtesy of Noire

Over the next two months, Noire accompanied him to industry events and a music video shoot and met key players in the business. She says Strong attempted to flirt with her on occasion, but she had no interest in the then 36-year-old short, balding man she describes repeatedly as “Jabba the Hutt” and “disgusting.” At that time, she believed Strong was genuinely interested in helping with her career and understood their relationship was strictly professional.

On May 17, 2009, the Sunday during Canada’s Victoria Day holiday weekend, Noire says Strong called to tell her he was in Hilton Head and had a big career opportunity for her. He then sent an email suggesting she take a cheap AirTran flight from Buffalo, N.Y. to Charleston so she could meet record execs from a new Atlanta-based label that might want to sign her. At the bottom of the email, which Noire shared with Billboard, Strong wrote that she only needed to take a carry-on bag, followed by: “Sexy lingerie is light right? lol” and a wink emoticon.

She bought a round-trip ticket for $273.90 to leave that same day.

A screenshot provided by Strong’s attorney Watkins that, he contends, shows the “proper context” of the interactions between Strong and Noire, includes five Facebook messages between the two leading up to Noire’s trip to South Carolina. On May 14, she texted Strong in a conversation, “I am so fucking high right now,” and the following day asked, “what are u doing this weekend. I’m going to Ottawa next week…” (Noire says she had not taken drugs, but at the time often used the word “high” to convey a sense of happiness — not intoxication — and was excited watching a Star Trek marathon. Billboard was unable to review earlier messages in the conversation.) On May 16, Strong texted Noire that he was in South Carolina, and on May 18, the day she arrived in Charleston, she messaged him, “No way, I’m in South Carolina too, golly gee,” followed by a smiley face emoji.

When her flight landed in Charleston that night, Noire expected Strong to meet her at the airport for the drive to Hilton Head. He didn’t.

“It was raining terribly when I arrived,” she says, and when she finally spoke with Strong by phone, he said he wasn’t there to pick her up because “it was too dangerous” to drive on unlit roads in the storm.

During the call, Noire also learned that Hilton Head was three hours away, which she hadn’t realized. “That upset me so much I was screaming at him,” she says. “He told me to spend the night at a nearby Marriott and he would be there to pick me up in the morning. He assured me it would be worth it when I was meeting with these label people.”

When Strong did finally show up, at “maybe four, four-thirty” the next afternoon, Noire says, he insisted they go to a restaurant. Although she was fed up with the constant delays, she agreed. She adds that she was “disgusted” by the “‘gator” and fried food on the menu and ate little. When the meal ended, Strong claimed it was too late to drive to Hilton Head. Stressed out from “his unnecessary ridiculousness and time wasting,” Noire says she told Strong she wanted a cup of tea.

He took her to a nearby café, where she says Strong flat-out told her he wanted to be more than friends. “I should’ve recognized [it was] the last chance he was giving me to consent,” she says. “He was like, ‘Why can’t it ever work between me and you?’” and said that being together “was a good choice for my career.” Noire shot him down, insulting his looks and “saw that it stung him.”

When they returned to the car, she was surprised when Strong said that DMD Entertainment would pay for her hotel room that night. “He was being “so, so nice to me, I started feeling like I was being a jackass,” she says.

At the Marriott, they checked into separate rooms. Soon after, Strong knocked on her door. He was eating a chocolate chip cookie from a plastic bag and offered her the last one, which she accepted and ate. She says she began to hallucinate and suspected she’d been drugged. She imagined vampires whispering in her ears; being stuck to the ceiling; and at one point, being on a surfboard in a body of water.

“Why that would be concerning to me is I can’t swim,” she says. She also recalls seeing Strong on a faraway shore and calling out to him before, she says, “It all melted away, and Adrian was holding me on him, and I was like, ‘Oh my God.’ I started pushing him away, and he said something like, ‘No you don’t.’”

Over the next 18 hours, Noire says Strong raped her repeatedly while she passed in and out of consciousness. She also says that he continued to inject her with drugs to keep her immobilized. During one of the interviews she gave to Billboard, she showed scars on her forearms that she says were the result of puncture marks made by the syringe. In a letter, Strong’s Canadian civil litigator Jeff Saikaley of Caza Saikaley wrote that his client “vehemently denies the allegations and asserts that he has never used illegal drugs and even has a phobia of needles.”

At one point, Noire says she tried to move but ended up falling off the bed. Strong, she recalls, looked at her “like I wasn’t even human” and “kicked me repeatedly while I was on the floor, calling me a ‘f—ing bitch.’” She says she then felt him hit her in the head with an object she didn’t see, and she lost consciousness again.

“When I woke up there was a needle sticking out of my chest,” Noire says. “It never healed.” She showed Billboard this scar as well, which she calls “the hole,” along with one on her head, which she says was where Strong cut away a section of her hair and scalp.

About a year later, when Noire was receiving EMDR therapy to treat her trauma at Trillium Health Partners in Mississauga, a Toronto suburb of the Peel region where she lived, she was asked by her social worker, a member of the hospital’s Sexual Assault and Domestic Violence Services, to recall the “most disturbing” mental image from “the incident.” “Adrian pulled + cut out section of hair, played along with sick fantasy…. Knew he was going to kill me,” she wrote on a “progress note,” dated Feb. 16, 2010, and signed by the social worker, whose name has been withheld at her request. (Noire shared the document with Billboard.)

Finally, Noire continues, “In a desperate, shameful attempt to save myself, I chose to pretend to flirt and act like I liked him and didn’t remember what had happened, to avoid further violence and irreversible damage to my face and body.” The tactic worked. “Once he felt he had complete control over me and my mind and the situation,” she says, “things greatly improved for me.”

She alleges that when Strong finished assaulting her, he covered her with a blanket, gave her water and then curled up on the bed next to her “like honeymooners.” (The woman who chose to share only limited details of her experience publicly also said Strong cuddled her after he raped her.)

Noire says she awoke the morning of May 19, 2009, to find Strong acting like everything was fine. He asked what she wanted to do that day and suggested an outing to the Charleston Tea Plantation (since renamed the Charleston Tea Garden). She recalls he “made her” shower while “in the bathroom with me the entire time,” then helped her dry off and get dressed, even laying out her makeup on the counter. Strong, she says, continued to watch her, “and commented I was being too slow.” She says she was still feeling drugged and “floppy” and looked disheveled when they checked out of the Marriott. She recalls that Strong explained away her appearance to staff by putting his arm around her and telling the concierge, “My girlfriend does a lot of drugs.”

While in the lobby, she says she mouthed “help me” to a passerby but was ignored.

During a trolley tour of the tea farm, Noire recalls Strong had a “dad camera” with him that “looked like a film camera but was digital” and told her to “smile,” then took a photo and showed it to her. She says it was the first time she had seen the camera. Saikaley says his client was trying out a new camera. On their way out, at the gift shop, she says she once again unsuccessfully mouthed “help me” to a cashier.

On the drive to the Charleston airport, Noire says Strong attacked her. “I said something stupid to him, like, ‘You’re not going to get away with this,” which prompted him to pull over, grab her by the hair and rattle her head. “He’s like, ‘What are you going to tell people? We had sex, you fuckin’ slut.’”

When they arrived at the departures area of the airport, Noire says she jumped out of the car and headed for the terminal. She alleges Strong ran after her and grabbed her by the shoulder, which drew the attention of a man she remembers was wearing a “heather blue shirt” and “physically got in the middle of us.” Noire says the stranger told Strong it looked like she didn’t want to speak to him and prevented him from following her into the terminal.

A review of Strong’s Facebook timeline that took place before he deleted his account shows that on the day Noire flew back to Buffalo, he made this status update: “Noire is the new black.”

Courtesy Photo

Strong’s other social media posts dating back to 2008 included mentions of locations described by Noire and other women interviewed for this story, including Hilton Head, South Carolina, Savannah and Marriott hotels.

While reviewing her correspondence with Strong for this story, Noire also discovered a direct message she’d previously missed that Strong sent via Facebook Messenger at 4:24 p.m. on May 18, 2009, when she says they were at the restaurant in Charleston. (She says she didn’t remember seeing this message until Billboard requested any correspondence between them that she could still access.) The message read: “How can I submit an obituary for publication,” followed by the contact information and deadlines to publish a death notice in The New York Times. She has no recollection of any conversation that would have caused him to send this information, and Strong did not provide any explanation when asked about the message.

“If I had known to check Facebook messages, that would have got my attention,” Noire says.

Courtesy of Noire

Once Noire landed in Buffalo, she drove herself back home to Mississauga. On May 20, she went to the local Credit Valley Hospital (part of Trillium Health Partners), where she explained that she’d been drugged and assaulted. She says she told the triage nurse, “I need a rape kit.”

She says she abruptly left the hospital because after she told the nurse she had been drugged and raped, she felt the nurse was too focused on her “being on drugs” and “started making me feel like I was in trouble.” She then drove some 270 miles to her cousin Matty’s house in Ottawa, the city where Noire grew up. Matty, who does not want her surname used, says Noire “turned up in the middle of the night unexpected. She was crying, and I was like, ‘What’s wrong?’ She didn’t want me to tell my husband, so we went outside, and we talked for a little bit.” Matty doesn’t recall if Noire gave her the name of the alleged rapist or where the attack took place, but she says, “I knew it was somebody in music because that was when, at the time, she was trying to break out in the music industry.”

Matty and her husband immediately drove Noire to Ottawa Civic Hospital, where Matty worked as an obstetrical nurse. The May 21, 2009, medical report states Noire said she was sexually assaulted and the assailant was known. It noted there had been no police involvement at that point.

At the hospital, though, Noire says she was treated rudely by the nurse who saw her. (Matty says did not go with her into the exam room to give her cousin “some privacy.”) “I showed [the nurse] my embarrassingly gross cut and oozing scalp and puncture marks and asked her to make note of them after she completed my vaginal rape exam,” Noire says. “She refused and told me she wasn’t going to participate in my ‘drama.’” The medical report refers to scratches on Noire’s body; no photos were taken. A partial rape kit was administered, but the nurse concluded Noire couldn’t tolerate the exam, so it was incomplete.

Noire later complained to Ottawa Civic Hospital and others dealing with her case about her treatment. Hospital notes state she was “extremely upset with handling of her SAEK [sexual assault evidence kit] that it was discarded.” The report quotes Noire saying, “I trusted you guys and now I have no evidence.” She shared an email exchange, dated June 16, 2009, between Ottawa Hospital’s Richard Tomlinson, coordinator of the Sexual Assault and Partner Abuse Care Program, and Kathryn Dominey, clinical director, Sexual Assault and Domestic Violence Services, at Trillium Health Centre – Mississauga, detailing the investigation into Noire’s complaint, which notes her “concerns have been addressed” with the nurse and that a file was opened with human resources. Tomlinson writes, “I asked her if she wanted me to pursue this further and she stated she just did not want this to happen to anyone else. I asked her permission to share her story as a learning experience for her team and she was quite agreeable to this.”

When asked for comment about Noire’s experience with Ottawa Hospital, the hospital’s media relations officer Rebecca Abelson said in a statement, “While The Ottawa Hospital cannot comment on specific patient cases, our Patient Relations team works with patients and their families to gather feedback and provided support where possible.”

Among the 40-some pages of medical and police reports that Noire provided to Billboard, one dated May 21 from Ottawa Hospital, for example, includes details she “was sexually assaulted by someone she works with in Charleston, NC [sic] on May 19. She believes she was given a cookie by this male, ‘Adrian.’ A short time later she started to feel off balance, began hallucinating, & alcohol was consumed. She recalls vaginal penetration. Does not think there was oral or anal penetration.”

After a lawyer friend advised her to file a police report, Noire went to the Peel Regional Police on May 26, where she met with Constable Wayne Fleming, then of the Special Victims Unit. The resulting reports — which were released to Noire with some information redacted to protect the privacy of “the person [Strong] to whom it relates” — states she was “under the effects of an unknown drug. [Noire] advised she was sexually assaulted by Strong, which included intercourse throughout the evening.” (Peel Regional Police would not confirm whether Strong was contacted or spoken to about Noire’s charges, citing privacy obligations pursuant to the Municipal Freedom of Information and Protection of Privacy Act.)

Noire also contacted the Charleston Police Department and spoke to Officer Michael Lyczany by phone on June 26, 2009, according to the report she shared with Billboard. Lyczany asked Noire why she agreed to fly to Charleston to meet with Strong. “She advised that he was an informal business manager. The trip was for professional reasons, and she was hoping that Strong would connect her with business contacts, which he did not do.” Lyczany also asked Noire why she spent part of the following day with him after he assaulted her. “She replied that she was still partially drugged and didn’t know what was going on,” which he believed was “contrary to her recorded interview.”

The Charleston police report concludes that prosecution of Strong would be extremely difficult due to “lack of any physical evidence; incident reported to Ontario Police 10 days after date [editor’s note: it was actually seven days since she returned home, according to Peel Police documents], victim spent part of the following day with the offender without contacting local police; lack of detail of the assault by the victim. In addition to the above, the victims unrelated statements about the physical appearance of the offender in contrast to her appearance, and her high assessment of self appearance would not favor successful prosecution.” It concludes with the line: “This case is closed due to lack of prosecution.”

Constable Fleming told Charleston police he “advised during his interview of [Noire] she did not provide specifics of the assault and, in his opinion, was not credible.”

But the documents provided to and verified by Billboard contradict the report’s conclusion about a “lack of detail.” In multiple interviews, conversations with her friends and family, and in supporting documents, Noire’s account has been consistent with the allegations she provided to authorities in 2009.

After returning to Canada, Noire told her close friend Priya (who requested that her surname not be used) about the assault and subsequent police visits and medical examinations at Credit Valley and Ottawa hospitals. “She told me he had hurt her; he had raped her. She was very distressed,” Priya says. “She couldn’t really articulate what exactly had happened, other than he had raped her. It wasn’t consensual. She felt like she was drugged.”

Priya says that weeks after Noire confided in her, a Charleston police officer called while they were in Noire’s car, and she put him on speaker phone. “She was trying to file a report, but they were being really difficult because [Noire and Strong] had left [the United States],” Priya recalls. “They weren’t being very understanding as to her state of mind at the time because she felt like she was drugged, and her mind was scattered. They basically told her to ‘Shush. It happened; you’re back home now, not to worry about it. There’s nothing they could do.’”

Less than a month later, Noire says Strong called her. She says she hung up and contacted Fleming with the Peel Regional Police. This interaction is noted in a June 15 report by the social worker assigned to Noire’s case: “[Fleming] will be contacting assailant this week in regard to recent contact with [Noire] on weekend.” Noire was advised to call 911 if Strong contacts her again “because the info will be in the system.”

After the alleged rape, Priya says Noire “just checked out.” She wouldn’t answer the phone and was not her typical outgoing self. The following year, Noire moved to Los Angeles, leaving behind Toronto and her dream of a singing career. She says she currently works in sales.

Over a three-week period, beginning March 29, 2023, Billboard asked Strong for an interview more than a dozen times, in person, by Zoom or phone. He indicated he was “travelling,” then “with family over the [Easter] Holidays.” In early April, he was emailed a letter detailing approximately 70 allegations and points of fact contained in this story. On April 18, Strong emailed to categorically deny the allegations made against him, calling them “disturbing, outrageous, unfounded and absolutely untrue.” He also wrote that, “all of those relationships were absolutely consensual.” In a subsequent email, he said he would respond to the questions by May 1. Billboard agreed to the timeline.

Instead, on May 1, Strong requested another extension until May 26, because he was now “on a trip in rural areas of the UK” until May 19. On May 5 he emailed again, writing “I need access to my old laptops and cameras that are currently in storage. Once I can review the content I will be able to formulate accurate replies.”

Billboard agreed to give Strong the requested extension — and again asked him to sit for an interview. He had at one point written, “I would be willing to do so in person provided that my side of the story is included in your planned article.” He was repeatedly assured that his account would be included. On the morning of May 26, Strong wrote that a response would be forthcoming “from my legal advisor addressing these matters … by the agreed upon deadline.”

In a letter dated that same day, Saikaley wrote that his client would not be granting an interview and called the accusations “false and baseless.”

Saikaley then began corresponding with Billboard’s legal counsel and provided a photo of Noire taken on May 19, 2009, sitting fully clothed and wearing sunglasses indoors that Saikaley says Strong took to test a new camera while they were in Charleston. If one magnifies the reflection in Noire’s sunglasses, they will see she is staring at a blank screen on an Apple laptop. The image, he wrote, “distinctly portrays the accuser devoid of any observable physical injuries or harm hours after the alleged incident.”

Adrian Strong

A few weeks later, Saikaley sent two more photos of Noire with the laptop. The metadata for those pictures indicate that they were taken May 19 between 1:33 and 1:34 p.m. He also sent a photo of Noire, clothed in a black top, under covers in a bed, holding a Starbucks cup with an open magazine on her lap. That photo is dated May 18, 2009, at 6:03 p.m. — the day that Noire alleges Strong raped her and held her against her will.

Adrian Strong

Adrian Strong

Noire does recall wearing a black outfit that weekend but says, “I do not recall that photograph ever being taken.” She adds that, “Out of all the photos it was the most alarming to me because when you zoom up on the image and you look at my face, you can tell that that girl is not okay.” She also notes she is “propped up” by multiple pillows and wonders why she would be in bed at 6 p.m. shortly after arriving at the hotel.

After reviewing one of the photos depicting her with the laptop, Noire says she does not remember them being taken. “And upon closer inspection of the photo, it appears that I’m staring at a screen that is completely blank so that computer’s not on,” she says. “I also do not, never owned a Mac computer, so that’s not my computer. What I’m trying to understand is why I’m wearing sunglasses inside while I’m supposedly working on a laptop. It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

She says the photos were staged.

Strong’s lawyers also point to a line from a comment Noire made under her original Instagram post that reads: “PS: I filed separate reports with the peel regional police at the time this occurred. One in March of 2009 for suspected stalking and one in May of 2009 for rape.” Saikaley questions why Noire had agreed to meet Strong in South Carolina months after accusing him of stalking.

Noire says the stalking reference had to do with harassing and explicit anonymous texts she received on March 16, 2009, days after meeting Strong at the CMW conference (March 12-14, 2009). She filed a report that day but claims she did not know or think it was him at the time. She says that after what happened in South Carolina, she became convinced Strong was behind the messages.

The police report that resulted from the harassing texts — which Noire provided to Billboard — indicates she “received a total of nine messages between 9.05 AM and 9:30 AM that day, all were of a sexual nature.” Noire believes the phone number, which had a 310 Los Angeles area code, was spoofed — something she determined after calling the number and speaking to the man who answered. She says he was shocked and claimed he didn’t know what she was talking about. He told her his name and that he worked in the music business, which she confirmed by googling him.

Another woman who found Noire’s post during the pandemic when she “googled Adrian’s name out of curiosity” recounts her involvement with Strong a decade ago during which he provided her with money, a laptop and help with her acting career in exchange for sexual favors. She asked to be identified by a pseudonym because she says she’s embarrassed that she participated in the arrangement but recognizes that she was exploited because of her vulnerable situation at the time. She does not claim to have been assaulted by Strong.

Mindy was in her mid-20s when she met Strong in 2012 on Toronto’s Queen Street West around midnight, while walking home from a bartending job at a popular restaurant chain near the DMD Entertainment office, which was then on Elm Street. Strong was walking home too and struck up a conversation at a stoplight where he learned she was pursuing acting. He told her she should do voiceovers.

“He dropped the name Characters [Talent Agency] because they were in [DMD’s building at the time] and his friend has a sound booth [there],” Mindy says. “He wanted to keep the conversation going and said, ‘Let’s go have a drink at my place.’” Instead, she suggested the since defunct all-night diner at the Thompson hotel, where he used a napkin to map out a potential career trajectory and offered to set her up with a demo session the next day at Characters. He then invited her to his place, which was nearby. “Yes, this is a sign,” she thought of their chance meeting.

Mindy says Strong seemed “like a regular guy,” so she went to his condo. It was well past midnight. They started drinking, when, out of the blue, she says, Strong asked her, “How much would it take to get you into that black dress?” — the required uniform at her workplace. Mindy says she told him no, but he kept asking and raising his offer and when he reached $150, she finally gave in. When she put it on, she says she realized Strong “was masturbating under a blanket.” When she expressed shock, she says, he told her, “What did you think I asked you to put the dress on for?” Mindy says that although she wasn’t frightened by the incident, she left within the hour.

The next day, Mindy cut the demo at Characters. She provided an email Strong sent afterwards praising her work. “Next step is to hook you up with voice agents,” he wrote.

Mindy says Strong then started coming into her work regularly and asking servers for her, which she describes as “dreadful.” Nonetheless, she saw Strong another half a dozen times over the next year. Each time they met, she says he asked her to do something sexually or with sexual overtones in exchange for money. “I was kind of desperate for money at a certain point, and I feel like he preyed on that,” she says, adding that after convincing her to put on the black dress, he took “baby steps” toward asking for more, including buying athletic shorts and tube socks for her to model for him and, eventually, agreeing to having sex with him for a new laptop.

“One morning I woke up to him taking a picture of the back of me,” she says. She grabbed the phone and deleted it, saying that she always worried he had a camera. Their encounters ended when she started dating someone. She estimates he had given her close to 2,000 Canadian dollars (roughly at par with U.S. dollars at the time).

Mindy’s roommate and co-worker from that time corroborated her story. “I met him at the restaurant when I was working. I know he offered her an arrangement where she would meet him and wear strange outfits, and he would pay her or buy her things,” the roommate says. “She was in acting and getting work in the entertainment industry, and I remember her saying that she was trying to meet with him because she thought it could lead to something.”

The same year Noire says she was raped, Margaret (also a pseudonym), then 18, met Strong in Toronto. While the age of consent is 18 in Canada, she says she was at “an extremely vulnerable place in my life,” having dropped out of university, with the “blind dream” to make it as a singer-songwriter. She was playing open mic nights and “scrounging pennies to make a record,” she says, but “I didn’t have any connections at all.”

When Strong offered to help her with her career, she says, “It was the most exciting day of my life because I’d never met anybody that works in music.” Like Noire, Margaret spent the next several months hanging out with him, discussing her career and meeting industry contacts.

“We would talk about work and my dreams,” she explained in a lengthy email. “We talked about the artists he worked with, and how I was talented enough to be as famous as them if I were in the right hands.” (She was also interviewed by phone for this story.)

Margaret admits that she was impressed by Strong’s office. “It looked like the Emerald City to me at the time,” she writes. “He had gold and silver record plaques all over his wall with my favorite artists. He knew I loved Arcade Fire, so he gave me Arcade Fire records, along with 20 other records of other artists he ‘worked with.’ He told me he helped ‘break them’ and I believed him. He did seem genuinely interested in my music. Eventually, he told me he wanted to manage me.”

Margaret says Strong introduced her to major players in his music network and after a month or so started managing her through his company StrongSongs. “It didn’t occur to me at all he was interested in me sexually,” she recalls.

One night, Margaret says “everything changed.” Strong took her to a bar, where she used a fake ID to get in (drinking age in Ontario is 19), and she got “super drunk” with him. “He knew the bartender and started feeding me shot after shot,” she says. “I had never drunk so much in my life. By the end of the night, I could barely walk.” Although she was not attracted to Strong, she says, “In my deliriousness, I went back and had sex with him.” The next morning, she panicked, worried he would no longer work with her. She phoned and apologized, saying she was embarrassed and wanted to pretend it never happened. “It didn’t occur to me that the sex we had was technically non-consensual considering the state I was in,” she writes.

Margaret says Strong’s reply was, “‘Well, actually, I did want to have sex with you. And I liked having sex with you. And if you’re not able to do that, then I don’t think that we can work together.’”

“That was the day that it clicked for me that he was an evil guy,” she says.

Margaret says Strong threatened to derail her career, so she agreed to have sex with him again. “The first time was the worst,” she writes. “I cried the entire time, but he didn’t care. The second time was the same, eventually I became more numb to it. He went back to taking me to events, meetings, etcetera. The only condition was that if he called me for sex, I had to oblige.” She says he had explicit photos of her and “he threatened to send them around and show people.”

“Several months of me knowing Adrian was me having this arrangement where I would have sex with him and he wouldn’t screw over my career or drop me from the company,” Margaret says.

On the occasions that she turned down Strong’s requests for sex, she says he would throw a tantrum or fake a panic attack. (Strong’s lawyer says he has suffered from panic attacks for years.) “I would be so annoyed with him that I would try to leave his apartment or his car,” she says. That’s when he would get physically assertive, block and lock the door, she says, “and rage — get all red and scary.” When that happened, Margaret says she gave in.

When she “couldn’t bear to have sex with him again,” Margaret writes that Strong gave her drugs to “numb me.” She added, “One time he even gave me a drugged cookie without telling me and had his way with me when I was basically passed out.”

Much like Mindy’s experience, Margaret also says Strong asked her to “dress in fetish outfits, weird socks, or sometimes gymnastics outfits. He took photos of me and videos of me while masturbating.” She says, “There were no limits. He literally never took no for an answer.”

“The abusive manager relationship went on for almost a year,” Margaret writes. “I fell into a massive depression, but I kept making music, and kept up hope that someday I could get away from him, although I didn’t know how. One day I had finally had enough.”

While at Strong’s house, she refused to have sex with him. “He forced himself on me and I fought him off. I managed to open the door and get away. I was done with him.”

That is, until Strong reminded her of her signed management contract. “I agreed to work with DMD/StrongSongs but I didn’t want to speak to him anymore,” she writes. She was given a different point person at the company, and Strong respected her space for almost two months. She says he would message her sometimes, seemingly apologetic, telling her he was a sex addict and receiving therapy.

Margaret notes Strong’s behaved “in these patterns and waves. So, he would go through these waves of [being a] Born Again Christian and not wanting to be the way he is, and then he would act on his compulsions again.”

In 2011, Strong invited Margaret to see Prince play at Air Canada Centre with two other industry people, promising “no funny business.” After the concert he asked if they could talk. “He wanted to apologize. We went for one drink in a public place, and I don’t know how I didn’t see it coming, but he drugged me,” she writes. She recalls becoming inebriated “very quickly” and went home. “After this I cut off from him completely and decided I needed to get out of Canada altogether.”

She moved out of the country to record an album. Strong let her out of her contract in late 2012 provided she signed a non-disclosure agreement.

Strong’s attorney Watkins provided a 2012 email from Margaret to Strong discussing the termination of her management contract. In it, she indicated that her father was helping her with the negotiations. Watkins contends that the involvement of Margaret’s father, as well as a lawyer who advised her on these negotiations are “relevant” to Margaret’s “contention that Mr. Strong purportedly took advantage of the power imbalance that existed between them.” He also implies that Margaret’s use of positive language in the email, such as “I know you still feel as passionately about this project as I do,” indicates that their relationship was professional and civil.

The former manager who guided Margaret’s career for a period after she extricated herself from DMD/StrongSongs backs up her account, however. He says she confided in him about her arrangement with Strong. He asked not to be identified in this story but provided a statement: “Soon after I began managing [Margaret] in 2014, she shared with me her story of Adrian’s sexual coercion and abuse toward her. I was shocked. We had hired his team [to promote her singles to radio], and when I asked her why she hadn’t opposed this working relationship, she explained to me that she feared he would blackmail her and destroy her career.”

Margaret says she decided to speak out because “I have moved on from that time of my life. I am now an award-winning hit songwriter in Canada, and I use my power in the industry, mostly, to help develop young female talent and help their dreams come true. This is the most rewarding thing I could ever do after everything I’ve been through — to be able to be the person I needed when I was trying to find my way through the industry — the person who could have once steered me away from a monster like Adrian Strong.”

“I have emotionally come to terms with everything he did to me, and for the most part at this point, I’m OK,” Margaret continues. “However, what I still can’t live with to this day is that Adrian is out there as we speak.”

In June, DMD’s owner and sole shareholder Derrick Ross told Billboard, “The company takes the allegations raised against Mr. Strong very seriously” and it was conducting an investigation into his conduct, which he later said was being run by Toronto law firm Paliare Roland Rosenberg. Ross added that “Strong has requested, and the company has agreed to an administrative leave, pending the outcome of the investigation.” The company also began removing Instagram posts about key artists from its account.

Behind the scenes, former DMD vp Gareth Jones was setting up a new radio promotion company, You Are Hear, which was announced in a July 14 press release that indicated former DMD head of publicity and marketing Matt Attfield was joining him. You Are Hear’s Instagram page identifies the company as “A Gareth Jones Music Promotion Enterprise” and is populated with the names of former DMD clients. Neither Jones nor Attfield responded to Billboard‘s requests for comments.

In the wake of this announcement, Ross told Billboard, “DMD has discontinued operations.” He says the Paliare Roland Rosenberg investigation is ongoing.

If you have information pertaining to this story, please email investigations@billboard.com.

Stories about sexual assault allegations can be traumatizing for survivors of sexual assault. If you or anyone you know needs support, in the United States you can reach out to the Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network (RAINN) by calling the National Sexual Assault Hotline (800.656.HOPE) or visiting the organization’s website for more information. In Canada, visit the Sexual Assault Support website or call the Assaulted Women’s Helpline 1-866-863-0511. All these organizations provide free, confidential support to sexual assault victims.

Loverboy, April Wine, Glass Tiger, Chilliwack and PRISM are among 13 rock acts from the 1970s and ’80s that will be added to Canada’s Walk of Fame. They will be celebrated in an event at Massey Hall in Toronto on Sept. 28.
The eight other acts that will be inducted are Lee Aaron, Lighthouse, Max Webster, Michel Pagliaro, Platinum Blonde, Rough Trade, The Parachute Club and Trooper.

“These trailblazing musicians have had an extraordinary impact on our Canadian rock landscape,” Jeffrey Latimer, CEO of Canada’s Walk of Fame, said in a statement. “Their longevity, many of whom still tour and sell out venues, is inspiring, and we are proud to welcome them each to Canada’s Walk of Fame.”

All 13 acts will be in attendance for the event, which will feature live performances, special guests and a reunion of Canadian DJs. Lou Pomanti is musical director.

Canada’s Walk of Fame’s partners in producing the event are Anthem Entertainment and Live Nation. Tickets go on sale through Ticketmaster.com on Friday, July 14, at 10 a.m. ET. A limited number of tickets will be sold during a general on-sale on Thursday, July 13, between 10 a.m.-10 p.m. ET. AMEX cardholders qualify for Front of the Line ticket access from Wednesday, July 12 at 10 a.m. ET to Thursday, July 13 at 10 p.m. ET.

Loverboy, April Wine and Chilliwack have been voted into the Canadian Music Hall of Fame.

Loverboy, Parachute Club and Glass Tiger have won Juno Awards for single of the year. Glass Tiger won back-to-back awards in that category in 1986 for “Don’t Forget Me (When I’m Gone)” and in 1987 for “Someday.” Loverboy won in 1982 for “Turn Me Loose,” Parachute Club in 1984 for “Rise Up.”

All three of those groups have also won Juno Awards in other categories, as have Lighthouse, PRISM and Trooper.

Six of these 13 acts have cracked the top 40 on the Billboard Hot 100. Loverboy amassed nine top 40 hits, followed by Glass Tiger (four), April Wine (three), Chilliwack and Lighthouse (two each) and PRISM (one).

The Sept. 28 event is a one-time music induction celebration for the 25th anniversary events. This event is separate from the annual Canada’s Walk of Fame Induction Ceremony to be held at the Metro Toronto Convention Centre on Saturday, Dec. 2, where all of the 2023 inductees will be honored. The annual induction ceremony will feature performances and tributes from today’s top stars and alumni from the past 25 years. A special broadcast will air at a later date on CTV.

Canada’s Walk of Fame was established in 1998 by founders Bill Ballard, Dusty Cohl and Peter Soumalias, with Dianne Schwalm and in partnership with Gary Slaight.

Canada’s Walk of Fame is a national, not-for-profit organization that celebrates achievement in the fields of arts & entertainment, sports & athletics, entrepreneurship & philanthropy, humanitarianism, and science, technology & innovation. Canada’s Walk of Fame has more than 200 inductions to date, with stars having a permanent place of tribute on the streets of Toronto’s Entertainment District. For a complete list of inductees, visit: www.canadaswalkoffame.com

Avril Lavigne, Lauren Spencer-Smith and Jessie Reyez are among the presenters set for the 2023 Juno Awards, which will air Monday, March 13. Reyez will also perform on the show, as will Nickelback, Tate McRae, Tenille Townes and more.
Lavigne, a nine-time Juno winner, is nominated for five more awards this year. Spencer-Smith is a three-time nominee.

This year’s show, hosted for the second year in a row by actor Simu Liu, will broadcast live from Rogers Place in Edmonton, Alberta.

The 2023 Junos will follow the Grammys’ lead and include a spotlight on the 50th anniversary of hip-hop. Kardinal Offishall, who had a top five hit on the Billboard Hot 100 in 2008 with “Dangerous” (featuring Akon), will co-host the celebration with Haviah Mighty, who last year became the first woman to win the Juno Award for rap album/EP of the year.

Performers in the hip-hop segment include four-time Juno winner Choclair, two-time Juno winner Maestro Fresh Wes, 2021 Juno winner TOBi, Toronto rap duo Dream Warriors and hip hop pioneer Michie Mee, with veteran entertainer DJ Mel Boogie spinning. The track was produced by recording artist Rich Kidd.

“The history of hip hop around the world is incredibly rich, with so many distinct voices contributing to the narrative,” Offishall said in a statement. “It’s an honour to be able to help tell this story through a distinctly Canadian lens and celebrate this important cultural milestone at The 2023 Juno Awards.”

Offishall, a four-time Juno winner and Global A&R at Def Jam Records, wrote and produced the segment with writer and actress Jemeni, with involvement from ADVANCE, Canada’s Black Music Business Collective and the Juno Rap Music Advisory Committee.

Actor Ryan Reynolds will make a virtual appearance to honor Nickelback for their contributions to Canadian music. The band is being inducted into the Canadian Music Hall of Fame. Connor McDavid, NHL All-Star and Edmonton Oilers’ captain, will be on hand to honor the band in-person. Nickelback will perform a medley of their hits.

The show will air on Monday, March 13 at 6 PM MT/8 PM ET on CBC TV, CBC Radio One and CBC Music. The show will also stream live on CBC Gem, CBC Listen, globally at CBCMusic.ca/junos, and on CBC Music’s Facebook, Twitter and Youtube pages. 

Tickets for the 2023 Juno Awards start at $49 and are available for purchase at www.ticketmaster.ca/junos, by phone and in-person at the Rogers Place box office.

For more information, visit CBCMusic.ca/junos.

Here are all the performers and presenters for the 2023 Juno Awards:

Performers

Alexisonfire

AP Dhillon

Banx & Ranx with Preston Pablo and Rêve

Jessie Reyez

Nickelback

Northern Cree with Aysanabee

Tate McRae

Tenille Townes

50th anniversary of hip-hop segment: Choclair, DJ Mel Boogie, Dream Warriors, Haviah Mighty, Kardinal Offishall, Maestro Fresh Wes, Michie Mee, TOBi.

Presenters

Avril Lavigne

Lauren Spencer-Smith

Andrew Phung

Jessie Reyez

KallMeKris

Pablo Rodriguez

Pierre Kwenders

Tyler Shaw

Nickelback lifetime achievement award segment: Ryan Reynolds, Connor McDavid

Canada announced Monday it is banning TikTok from all government-issued mobile devices, reflecting widening worries from Western officials over the Chinese-owned video sharing app.

Prime Minister Justin Trudeau said it might be a first step to further action.

“I suspect that as government takes the significant step of telling all federal employees that they can no longer use TikTok on their work phones many Canadians from business to private individuals will reflect on the security of their own data and perhaps make choices,” Trudeau said.

The European Union’s executive branch said last week it has temporarily banned TikTok from phones used by employees as a cybersecurity measure.

The EU’s action follows similar moves in the U.S., where more than half of the states and Congress have banned TikTok from official government devices.

Last week, Canada’s federal privacy watchdog and its provincial counterparts in British Columbia, Alberta and Quebec announced an investigation to delve into whether the app complies with Canadian privacy legislation.

TikTok is wildly popular with young people, but its Chinese ownership has raised fears that Beijing could use it to collect data on Western users or push pro-China narratives and misinformation. TikTok is owned by ByteDance, a Chinese company that moved its headquarters to Singapore in 2020.

TikTok faces intensifying scrutiny from Europe and America over security and data privacy amid worries that the app could be used to promote pro-Beijing views or sweep up users’ information. It comes as China and the West are locked in a wider tug of war over technology ranging from spy balloons to computer chips.

Canadian Treasury Board President Mona Fortier said the federal government will also block the app from being downloaded on official devices in the future.

Fortier said in statement the Chief Information Officer of Canada determined that it “presents an unacceptable level of risk to privacy and security.”

The app will be removed from Canadian government issued phones on Tuesday.

“On a mobile device, TikTok’s data collection methods provide considerable access to the contents of the phone,” Fortier said.

“While the risks of using this application are clear, we have no evidence at this point that government information has been compromised.”

Recent media reports have also raised concerns about potential Chinese interference in recent Canadian elections, prompting opposition parties to call for a public inquiry into alleged foreign election interference.

“It’s curious that the Government of Canada has moved to block TikTok on government-issued devices—without citing any specific security concern or contacting us with questions—only after similar bans were introduced in the EU and the US,” a TikTok spokesperson said in a email.

The company is always available to discuss the privacy and security of Canadians, the statement said. “Singling out TikTok in this way does nothing to achieve that shared goal,” the email said. “All it does is prevent officials from reaching the public on a platform loved by millions of Canadians.”

Nickelback will be inducted into the Canadian Music Hall of Fame as part of the 2023 Juno Awards. The show, which is Canada’s equivalent of the Grammys, will be held at Rogers Place in Edmonton, Alberta, on March 13. The band was formed in the town of Hanna, Alberta.
“Returning home to Alberta, where everything started for us, is truly a full circle, milestone moment for the band,” Nickelback frontman Chad Kroeger said in a statement. “We take so much pride in our Canadian roots and are extremely humbled by this honour.”

Nickelback will perform on the show as part of the tribute. It will be their sixth performance on the Junos.

Since winning their first Juno in 2001 for best new group, Nickelback has amassed a total of 12 awards at the show. They won group of the year four times between 2002 and 2009; single of the year for “How You Remind Me” in 2002; album of the year for Dark Horse in 2009; and the Fan Choice award in both 2004 and 2009, among other awards.

Nickelback has a mixed track record at awards shows outside of their native Canada. They have yet to win a Grammy (despite six nods over the years, including record of the year for “How You Remind Me”). They have, however, won seven Billboard Music Awards, two American Music Awards, two MTV Video Music Awards and one People’s Choice Award, among others.

Nickelback will debut their tenth studio album, Get Rollin’ on Nov. 18. The group’s last seven studio albums made the top 10 on the Billboard 200. They topped that chart with All the Right Reasons in 2005.

The Canadian Music Hall of Fame was established by CARAS in 1978 to acknowledge artists who have made an outstanding contribution to Canadian music.

Previous Hall of Fame inductees include both solo artists (such as 2022 recipient Deborah Cox) and groups. Other pop and rock bands that have receive the honor include The Guess Who, The Band, Rush, Triumph, Loverboy, April Wine, Bachman-Turner Overdrive, Barenaked Ladies and Cowboy Junkies.

Calgary, Alberta native and four-time Juno nominee Tate McRae will also perform at the show. McRae, 19, made the top 20 on the Billboard Hot 100 with “You Broke Me First

Manager and promoter Ron Sakamoto will be the recipient of the Walt Grealis Special Achievement Award. A longtime collaborator of Canadian superstar Shania Twain, Sakamoto has represented some of the biggest names in music, including The Guess Who, Bryan Adams, Bee Gees, KISS, and Keith Urban. Sakamoto will receive the honor at the 2023 Juno Opening Night Awards on March 11.

This will be the Juno Awards’ first time in Edmonton in 19 years. The show, produced by Insight Productions, will broadcast and stream live across Canada at 8 p.m. ET/5 p.m. PT on CBC TV, CBC Gem, CBC Radio One, CBC Music, CBC Listen, and globally at CBCMusic.ca/junos and on CBC Music’s Facebook, YouTube and Twitter pages.