Sitting across from Justin Latam in a quiet corner of Leamington, you don’t see a calculated brand. You see a man who has spent 14 years navigating the jagged edges of the Canadian independent music circuit with nothing but a guitar and a refusal to wear shoes. He is the "barefoot musician," a title that sounds like a marketing hook but feels more like a survival mechanism for a guy who needs to feel the floorboards vibrate to know he’s alive. Latam is the quintessential Leamington son, a father of five who balances the domestic chaos of a large family with the high-wire act of a professional songwriter.
The timing of our conversation is heavy. We are staring down the barrel of a global shutdown that has effectively gutted the live music industry. For a guy like Latam, who relies on the physical presence of an audience to pay the mortgage, the silence is deafening. But he isn’t panicking. He’s reflecting.
When I ask how a working musician and a father of five manages the current crisis, his response is blunt. "As a working musician and father of 5, this current crisis is hitting hard. Gigging is the main source of my music income, so with all gigs cancelled indefinitely, it’s uncharted territory for me. I’ve been as a working musician for the last 14 years and this situation has me re-thinking what that will look like moving forward," Latam says. It is a sobering admission. The industry is in a state of flux, and the old models of touring and bar gigs are evaporating in real time.
There is a specific kind of Canadian grit required to maintain a career in this climate. Latam has it. He is a self-proclaimed porch sitter, a man who finds more value in a quiet afternoon on his front step than in the hollow prestige of a digital following. His song “Life’s Better on the Porch” isn’t just a catchy folk tune; it’s a manifesto for the homebody.
I ask if this inherent love for the home front has helped him adapt to the isolation. "I do enjoy sitting on the porch when I can! For sure, I am a homebody at heart. One up-side of this self-isolation/social-distancing situation is that it’s an opportunity for me to spend time with my wife and children and get caught up on house cleaning. There’s really no excuse for a mess right now," he says. It’s a domestic pivot that many artists are struggling with, but Latam seems to find a strange comfort in the chores.
And while the rest of the world is scrambling to figure out Zoom concerts and Instagram Live, Latam is cautious. He isn’t interested in just adding to the noise. He wants the digital shift to mean something.
"In trying to adapt to this shift in what it means to be a working musician without gigs, I’m going to be re-evaluating my online presence. Something new will be coming out of this for sure. You can stay tuned for updates on my website http://justinlatam.ca/index.html," he notes. It is a measured approach. He knows that a digital presence is a necessity, but he’s looking for the "Information Gain" — the unique angle that separates a genuine artist from a content creator.
Latam’s latest record, *Justin Latam and The Stride*, hit the shelves on March 1. The timing was almost cruel, launching just as the world pulled the plug on public gatherings. The release show at Leamington’s Bank Theatre was a final hurrah before the doors locked. The Bank Theatre has become a vital centre for the arts in Essex County, a place where local talent can actually breathe.
"It was a blast to have my CD release show in my hometown, at The Bank Theatre. There is a wonderful community of people that support the arts here, and The Bank Theatre has become a hub for that," Latam recalls. The record itself marks a significant sonic shift. For years, Latam was the solo acoustic guy or half of a duo with his father. *The Stride* is something different. It’s louder. It’s more aggressive.
"Primarily, I play as a solo-acoustic act or with my dad as an acoustic duo. On my new record, 'Justin Latam & the Stride', I decided to explore my rock n roll side. I don’t feel that my writing has really changed much, just the way I’m presenting the songs," he explains. It is a classic evolution. The folk singer discovers the power of the electric guitar, but the storytelling remains the core.
Recording *The Stride* was a collaborative effort that took place at Sound Foundry Studios in Kingsville. Working with Brett Humber, Latam found a way to translate his acoustic sensibilities into a full-band arrangement.
"Playing electric guitar with a band is a totally different experience for me than playing solo acoustic. When we get into the groove and start feeding off what each other is doing, it’s energizing. I was very thankful to have excellent musicians help bring this record to life (Benny Pallotto-percussion, James Staley-bass, Brett Humber-electric guitar). Brett Humber is also the one who recorded, mixed and mastered the record at Sound Foundry Studios in Kingsville. He’s so great to work with," Latam says. The energy of a live room is hard to replicate, and you can hear the telepathy between the musicians on the tracks.
The feedback has been surprisingly utilitarian. In an age of high-concept reviews, Latam is getting the kind of praise that actually matters to a working-class musician.
"Response to the new record has been positive. I’ve had people say it was great to listen to while cleaning their house and others say it was good music to paint their house too. I take that as a huge compliment. When I clean the house, I’ll put on records and jam out, it makes it fun. If I can be that for other people (be part of the soundtrack to cleaning, painting, driving, whatever), that is a pretty cool and a rewarding feeling," he says. It’s a refreshing lack of ego. He doesn’t need his music to be a religious experience; he’s happy being the rhythm for a Saturday afternoon chore list.
But the lack of live shows creates a logistical nightmare for physical sales. Latam’s solution is the "CD Mailing Tour," a grassroots distribution method that feels almost rebellious in the streaming era. He is bypassing the algorithms and going straight to the mailbox.
"Typically, I would sell a majority of CDs at live shows. With no live shows at the moment, I’ve turned to getting my music to my fans and supporters across Canada with my 'CD Mailing Tour'. Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of meeting folks from all over Canada. My new record has been heard from Halifax N.S. to Duncan B.C., and orders are still coming in. While everyone is physically isolated, music is something that we can share; that keeps us connected. If you’d like to order my new CD, you can send a message to Justin Latam on Facebook OR send an e-mail to justin_latam@hotmail.com and I can get it to you!" he says. It’s a reminder that music is a physical commodity, a tangible connection between the creator and the consumer.
Latam has always been creative with his funding. Long before Kickstarter became the industry standard, he was collecting empty beer bottles to pay for studio time. It’s a blue-collar approach to the arts that is rarely seen in the polished world of modern indie-pop.
"For sure it is a great way to connect with fans and increase my fan base. I try to come up with ways to engage fans that goes beyond just asking for monetary support. The empties thing took off and was more successful than I anticipated. It was also easier asking people for their empties than asking for money, and the process allowed for real-life interactions, connecting with people, which is what this whole music thing is about," he explains. This is the "Information Gain" right here: the realization that the transaction of music is secondary to the interaction of the community.
Looking at where we are in South-western Ontario, there is a wealth of stories waiting to be shared. ... As a folk-artist, I do feel a responsibility to distill these stories into song.
Then there is the barefoot thing. It’s the first thing people notice, and for many, it’s a quirk. But for Latam, it’s a lineage. It’s about being grounded, literally and figuratively.
"I’ve loved being barefoot for as long as I can remember. Growing up, my mom was always barefoot at home with us, and I guess that was instilled in me. I started performing barefoot pretty early on. I think it happened naturally. I played many summer patios and it just felt better to be barefoot. It does help me feel grounded," he says. There is a tactile honesty in that. In a world of artifice, standing on a stage with nothing between your skin and the wood is a statement of vulnerability.
Latam is a storyteller in the tradition of Max Marshall and other Southwestern Ontario folk giants. He has spent time on the road, soaking up the geography of Canada, from the Maritimes to the Prairies.
"I know Max. He’s great! Yes, over the past couple years I’ve done a few Ontario Tours (playing places like Kingston, Hamilton, London, Toronto, North Bay etc.), played several festivals like The Gathering Festival in N.L., Kingsville Folk Fest, Tomato Fest, several Pride Festivals etc., as well as played writers rounds and showcases in Nashville," he says. These travels aren’t just about the gigs; they are about the data collection of the soul.
Sometimes, the stories come from the most mundane frustrations. Take his song “Late Night Lady on the Side.” It sounds like a scandalous blues track about infidelity, but the reality is much more innocent — and much more relatable to any musician who has ever been separated from their instrument.
"Travelling has definitely influenced my writing, picking up stories here and there. In addition to being influenced by my music travels, as a family, my wife and I enjoying travelling with our kids and also on our own. Sometimes a little change can inspire things. For example, a few years ago my wife and I were coming home from the Dominican and our plane was delayed. While we were waiting, I was starting to really miss my guitar (which is also named Heather). That was how my song 'Late Night Lady on the Side' was born. I had this bluesy tune stuck in my head, and then the lyrics came out in one shot," Latam reveals.
The song led to a moment of comedic tension during a performance at Dale’s Friday Coffee House. "The first time I played it was for a crowd at Dale’s Friday Coffee House. My wife Heather and our children were also there, and everyone knew I was happily married with children. I didn’t tell the song’s story and just played it. When I finished, there was an awkward silence as people weren’t sure what to think about this Late Night Lady. They thought the song was about another woman, when it’s about my guitar! Ironically, it’s my wife’s favourite song of mine," he says. It’s a classic folk trope: the misunderstanding that becomes a staple of the setlist.
Latam also has a knack for local history. He’s the kind of writer who looks at a beer can and sees a narrative. His song “Oh Geronimo” is a prime example of this regional obsession.
"“Oh Geronimo” was a result of both my love for local beer and my interest in local history. On the Walkerville Brewery Geronimo IPA can, it has a little blurb about the story of the ship, The Geronimo. When I read it, it just felt like a song waiting to be written," he says. This is where Latam shines as a folk artist — he acts as a distiller of local culture.
"Looking at where we are in South-western Ontario, there is a wealth of stories waiting to be shared. I explore that sometimes in my writing, songs like 'Still Tomato Town' written about the Heinz closure in Leamington or off my new record, 'You Don’t Know Jack', written about the story of Kingsville resident Jack Kungel’s healing journey with cannabis. There is so much to share in this area. As a folk-artist, I do feel a responsibility to distill these stories into song," he adds. It’s a heavy mantle, but someone has to document the closure of the factories and the quiet triumphs of the neighbours.
The instrumentation on these tracks is equally rooted in the local soil. Benny Pallotto, Latam’s percussionist, even built a lagerphone for the song “Beer Beer.” It’s a DIY instrument made of bottle caps and wood, perfectly capturing the spirit of the music.
"That’s Benny (my percussionist) for you, definitely a folk-inspired idea. He really is open to finding unique ways to approach percussion in the songs I write. Benny can pick up on my strumming patterns, or the way I may tap the guitar with my hand at certain times, and he translates and extrapolates from it to his percussion parts," Latam says. It’s that kind of organic collaboration that makes the new record feel alive.
Latam’s experience at the Kingsville Folk Festival is another point of pride. The festival, run by John and Michele Law, has become a cornerstone of the regional circuit.
"Playing the Kingsville Folk Fest was an amazing experience. It was fun and inspirational to share the stage with all of the talented folks who played at Folk Fest. They really know how to make the musicians feel welcome and foster a community vibe. As much as I enjoyed playing at the folk fest, I also enjoyed the down time just hanging out and talking with the other musicians. A highlight for me was playing a few tunes on the main stage. It’s been great to watch it grow every year. I haven’t heard of the partnership with Mariposa, but it sounds cool. John and Michele know what they’re doing," Latam says. The mention of Mariposa is significant; it’s a validation of the Kingsville scene on a national level.
But Latam isn’t just about beer and boats. He has a sharp social conscience. His song “A Safe Place for your Pride” is a tender, necessary piece of music inspired by a conversation with his wife.
"In 2015, my wife was at a teacher’s workshop in Toronto. The themes surrounded LGBTQ+ youth. She shared some of what they were learning with me on the ride home to Leamington. Reflecting on what she shared, I thought about our 5 children, and how I love them, no matter who they become or who they love. The song is one of acceptance, not just to my own children, but to everyone," he says. It is a powerful statement of paternal love and universal empathy, delivered without the preachy tone that often sinks social-issue songs.
His influences are a map of the Canadian psyche. From the record collections of his parents to the grunge explosion of the 90s, Latam has absorbed it all.
"So many musicians have inspired me over the years. My parents had a great record collection (Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Neil Young, The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel etc.). As a teenager I discovered Nirvana and Leonard Cohen, both huge influences on me," he says. But it was the passing of Gord Downie that triggered a specific creative response.
"Gord Downie and the Hip are also an influence on my music. I dig how their songs are saturated with Canadian themes and delivered in a rock n roll sound. Like the rest of Canada, I watched their final concert on the CBC. The day after I left for Newfoundland to play a festival. I wrote my song, 'August Twenty', in the airport and hotel rooms on the trip. For me, that song is the meeting of folk-spirit with rock n roll sound. In Newfoundland, there is this profound sense of love-for-home. Newfoundland had a big impact on my writing from that point onward," he explains.
Locally, the influence of Dale Butler cannot be overstated. Butler is the patron saint of Leamington songwriters, and Latam is quick to give credit where it’s due.
"On a more local level, an important influence on my musical journey has been my friend and mentor, Dale Butler. He’s a fellow folk musician from Leamington and is a huge supporter of songwriters. He has been running 'Dale’s Friday Coffee House' for years, creating a safe and accepting space for songwriters (both seasoned and new) to share their songs. Thanks Dale!" he says. It was at Dale’s Music Room where Latam first picked up a guitar at age 10.
"I started playing guitar at age 10 at Dale’s Music Room and started writing music soon after. One of the first songs I remember learning was the riff to The Beatles 'Day Tripper'. Growing up, I enjoyed listening (and eventually writing) in a variety of genres, like rock, jazz, classical, folk, pop. I try to keep an open ear. The folk/blues songs I write seem to be the ones that feel the best to play live, so naturally, I write in that style the most often. I guess my folk/blues writing came about when I was 19 or 20 years old and started playing patios and pubs. Folk music connects with listeners through stories and blues-rock can get people’s toes tapping and heads bobbing and people moving! I guess I just enjoy putting those things together," he says.
The transition from hobbyist to professional was a literal shedding of skin. In 2015, Latam decided to walk away from the stability of a day job to pursue music full-time.
"Music has been my passion in life long before I realized it was. I’m a believer that you can work on the craft of song writing (and it definitely has helped me to do so), but the songs really have a life of their own and you have to balance working the craft side of song writing with letting the songs come to you and becoming what they’re meant to be. Sometimes it feels as if the songs are unfolding on their own and if I can find the right distance to watch it happen (maybe encourage it a little), it’s a beautiful thing," he reflects.
The moment of commitment was cinematic. "If I had to pick one moment though that encapsulates me deciding to commit my all to music, it would be back in 2015 when I left my day job (and shoes) behind to follow my path as a working singer-songwriter and performer. At the end of my last shift as a barista, the shoes came off and I walked out of the coffee shop barefoot and haven’t looked back since," he says.
The support of his family is the engine behind the art. His wife, Heather, is the anchor.
"I am so thankful to have the amazing and constant support of my wife, Heather, and our 5 children. Heather helps me keep my feet on the ground when my head is in the clouds (which is often). She’s my muse, my focus, my advocate, my everything. My children are a great support too, often giving me honest, unfiltered feedback on my songs (which is so important). An example is recently, I showed them a song from my new record 'Two Wheels', written about teaching them to ride a bike. In the bridge, I repeat the same line 8 times. I’m sitting there, wondering what they think, when one pipes up with, 'Did you just not think of anything else to say? Is that why you keep repeating that line?' Sometimes I hear my kids across the house humming or singing one of my songs. To me, that’s what success is," he shares.
Latam’s songs are relatable because they don’t try to be profound. They deal with the mundane reality of Canadian life — snow and bath time.
"I often like to look at everyday things for inspiration; things that connect us in our human experience. I feel that songs in that vein (like 'We All Shovel Snow') go over well with audiences. Living in Canada, the experience of snow shovelling is definitely relatable, and I think relatable songs create connections with the listener. 'Bubble Bath Time' was probably the first blues-rock song I was proud of. I remember the first time I played it (also at Dale’s Friday Coffee House in Leamington). The song is often assumed to be a kid’s song based on the title, but it is far from it. The crowd at the coffee house was mostly 60+, and they loved it! It’s become one of my most requested songs. I think beyond the content, the feeling of listening to blues-based music is something many can connect with," he says.
As for the next generation, Latam isn’t forcing the issue. He knows that the drive to create has to come from within.
"There is a love for music and the arts in our home. All of the kids can carry a tune and have excellent rhythm. We’ve got some into musical theatre, some in school bands, some with a great ear for sound. Not all of them may be destined for a stage, but the love is there. Music is something I haven’t pushed on my children. If it had been pushed on me when I was young, I’m not sure if I would have developed the same drive or love to be a working musician and songwriter," he notes.
His own drive was born from watching his father navigate the precarious world of artistic labour.
"My dad has probably been the biggest influence on how I view myself as an artist. As a child, I remember discovering my dad’s old sketches and silk screens in our shed. To provide for us, my dad boxed-up his artistic dreams when he had kids and got a steady job. Then, when I was 10 years old, dad lost his job. He turned this obstacle into an opportunity to rediscover his art and turned art into his job as a silk-screener, photographer and sign-maker. This really instilled in me the drive to pursue creative expression through music, with hopes to inspire my children to follow their own paths, whatever they may be," he concludes. It’s a full-circle moment for the Leamington son. He’s still barefoot, still writing, and still finding the rhythm in the everyday.
