Standing in the dust of Burl’s Creek during the second weekend of Aug., the air feels heavy with the kind of humidity that ruins expensive guitars and makes cheap beer taste like a luxury. This is Boots and Hearts. It is the undisputed heavyweight champion of Canadian country music gatherings. And right in the middle of this sweaty, denim-clad chaos, Teigan Gayse looks like she finally found the keys to the kingdom.
Gayse hails from Chetwynd. If you have never been to that corner of British Columbia, it is a rugged stretch of the Peace River Country where the trees are thick and the winters are mean. The town is famous for its wood carvings, but lately, the local export is a Métis artist with enough vocal grit to sand down a barn door.
The industry has been watching her for a minute. But watching a performer on a screen and seeing them command a festival stage are two different sports. Gayse is not just playing the part; she is rewriting the script for what a modern Indigenous artist sounds like in a genre that has historically been a bit too beige.
Her track record is starting to look like a series of calculated strikes. "I Don’t Need A Boy" and "Messed Up" were the opening salvos that put her on the map. Then "I Don’t Wanna Fall In Love Anymore" cracked the top 50 on the Billboard Country Music charts. 350,000 streams is a respectable number for an indie player, but it is the radio play that really moves the needle in this country.
Then there was "Blame the Wine", which clawed its way to #46. It is a solid track, though the production occasionally leans a bit too hard into the polished Nashville sheen, threatening to drown out the organic rasp that makes Gayse interesting. But the real noise right now is surrounding "If You Show Me Yours".
This is the collaboration with Nickelback’s Chad Kroeger. On paper, it sounds like a boardroom fever dream. Kroeger is the king of post-grunge arena rock, and Gayse is the rising darling of the B.C. interior. But the result is a surprising pivot toward something far more intimate than anyone expected from the man who wrote "Rockstar".
Recollecting her experience writing with Chad, Gayse says, "I come into the room, ready to write, and Chad's like, 'What do you think of the title? If You Show Me Yours, I'll Show You Mine.' I'm thinking, well, Chad, I am a country artist, not a rock artist. But then he says, 'Like your heart. If you show me your heart, I'll show you mine.' That hit me. That was deep and beautiful."
That quote reveals the fundamental tension in her work. She is navigating the space between the bravado of the stage and the raw nerves of the writing room. It takes a certain level of confidence to tell the biggest rock star in Canada that his title sounds a bit too "rock" for your brand, but Gayse has that steel in her spine.
The authenticity people keep talking about is not a marketing gimmick. It is a byproduct of growing up in a place where you cannot fake your way through a conversation. Chetwynd is a town of 2,500 people. You learn how to read a room when everyone in the room knows your grandmother.
This is my first time performing at Boots and Hearts. You hear about Boots and Hearts in the country music world all the time. The fact that I'm playing it is just...insane.
"I grew up in the most wonderful indigenous community," she reflects. "They were always my biggest supporters." That support system is the bedrock of her career. In an industry that often tries to strip away an artist’s edges to make them more "radio-friendly", Gayse has leaned into her heritage.
Chetwynd is not just a dot on the map for her; it is a visual and cultural identity. The wood carvings she mentions are not just roadside attractions. They are symbols of a community that creates something permanent out of raw, unyielding material. It is a fitting metaphor for her songwriting process.
"If you're going to Chetwynd, you got to check out the wood carvings," she points out. She is a hometown booster, but there is a genuine affection there. She is not trying to escape her roots; she is trying to bring them with her to the main stage.
The way she blends her Indigenous background with contemporary country vibes is a delicate balancing act. It would be easy to fall into tropes. Instead, she finds a middle ground that feels nostalgic for the 90s era of powerhouse female vocalists while staying firmly planted in the 2024 production style.
The irony of her collaboration with Kroeger is that she spent her childhood essentially training for it. Most kids in the early 2000s were haunted by "How You Remind Me" whether they liked it or not. For Gayse, it was the soundtrack to her daily commute to school.
She would walk those Chetwynd roads with her earphones plugged in, lost in the world of Nickelback. It was a manifestation of a dream she probably didn't even know she had yet. Now, she is not just listening to the idols of her youth; she is sitting across from them in a studio, debating lyrics about emotional vulnerability.
This Boots and Hearts performance felt like a graduation. For years, she has been the "one to watch" or the "rising star". Standing on that stage in Oro-Medonte, that label felt obsolete. She is here. The dedication required to move from small-town B.C. to the biggest festival in Ontario cannot be overstated.
"This is my first time performing at Boots and Hearts," she gushes. "You hear about Boots and Hearts in the country music world all the time. The fact that I'm playing it is just...insane."
The word "insane" gets thrown around a lot in this business, but for an artist who started in the harmonious woods of the Peace River Country, it is the only word that fits. The scale of the festival is massive. It is a sea of cowboy hats, light shows and high-stakes industry networking.
Her music is her message. It is a reminder that being vulnerable is not a weakness in country music; it is the entire point of the genre. If you aren't wearing your heart on your sleeve, you are just making noise. Gayse understands that the audience can smell a fraud from the back of the field.
The climb was not easy. There were struggles, late nights and the inevitable friction of being an Indigenous woman in a space that has not always been welcoming. But Gayse does not lead with her grievances. She leads with her craft. Every chord and every lyric was a step toward this specific spotlight.
The future looks crowded for her, but in a good way. She has the momentum of a top 50 hit and the backing of rock royalty. More importantly, she has a distinct voice. In an industry teeming with talent, having a "unique blend" is often just code for being weird. In Gayse’s case, it means she sounds like herself.
She carries the spirit of Chetwynd with her, ensuring her roots remain an integral part of her sound and story. It is a smart move. Authenticity is the only currency that doesn't devalue when the trends change.
As we wrapped up our conversation, the roar of the festival continued to hum in the background. The euphoria of the set was still visible in her eyes. She knows the work is just beginning, but she also knows she has the foundation to handle the weight.
Concluding our chat, Gayse remarked, "Chetwynd shaped me, and music gave me a voice. Now, with every song I sing, I want the world to hear both."
If the crowd's reaction at Boots and Hearts was any indication, the world is listening. And they like what they hear. For more about Teigan, visit teigengayse.com.
