Rapping the way to the light

Jeremy Linville leads multiple lives. As a performer, he was in high demand this summer: performing under his stage name Tahltan Havoc, Linville rapped at Dawson City Music Festival and Moosehide Gathering. He was also invited to perform at a music festival in Kelowna as well as at Paradise Music Festival just outside of Whitehorse, but did not have time in his schedule to slot them in. 

During the day, he operates a music studio in downtown Whitehorse. It runs on a drop-in basis for youth, and is completely free who wish to record and mix their own tracks. The studio opened in the summer of 2017, with the space and equipment provided by Lancelot Burton, the executive director of the Youth of Today Society, whose headquarters houses the studio. 

Linville has a third job that acts as his motivator, his focus and his inspiration: being a single parent to his son.

“Having my son was probably one of the best things that could ever happen to me,” Linville says. “It gives me that drive, because I know my son needs something, and he always needs something, right? That’s how kids are. It really gives me a drive to actually do something with this music.”

If there’s one thing he wants to leave behind for him, it is the assurance that he should follow his heart no matter what society dictates. It starts with a hard work ethic.

“I’ve never really followed the rules of society,” says Linville, a high-school graduate. When he had his son at age 18, he had no job and no money, and he had lost many friends along the way. He shrugs off the routine path others follow: going to school then getting a job, or going to university to get a better-paying job.

Instead, he held onto the voice he first heard at age 14. It told him that music was the way. Now, he’s running a studio in the largest city in Canada’s North. And his passion to share music with others takes him throughout the territory. Still in his early 20s, Linville would consider himself to be highly experienced on the hip-hop circuit in Yukon.

“I know my way around the hip-hop scene for sure,” Linville says. “The fact that I’m teaching young kids how to get into that rap scene, I think that kind of makes me an elder here.”

Without missing a beat, he thinks of himself as a First Nations artist first and a hip-hop artist second, not the other way around.

“I have a lot of pride in being Native, so including that in my hip-hop music makes me a lot more proud to be on stage,” Linville says. “I wouldn’t really want it any other way – I wouldn’t want to JUST be a rapper; I want to be a rapper for a reason. A lot of that is my Native pride, to stand up for my Native people.”

Linville acknowledges that in Whitehorse, there are financial requirements to maintain a basic quality of life, and to do things like run his recording studio. The balance is hard to strike.

Linville says that he’d be one of the first people to offer a twenty-dollar bill to someone in need, no strings attached. “Money is one of the last things on my mind,” Linville says, “I care about people, I care about love and respect.”

But Linville’s views don’t necessarily represent a singular Indigenous mindset towards money.

“There’s always going to be people that are driven by money – that’s fine,” Linville says. “If you’re driven by money, that’s how you’re gonna get through your day, sure, go ahead.”

Linville turns on his iconic tune, “It’s Chill,” which he often performs across the territory. It represents his mindset.

He describes his thoughts as the song plays.

“Sitting on a beach, having a few drinks with my good friends and family. Everybody is relaxed, happy, clear horizons, no worries, you know?”

His music has brought him full circle with his personal aesthetic. He dwells on that for a moment, then says, “As long as everybody is happy around me, I’ll be content.”