If you’ve ever found yourself needing a song that feels like it was written just for you – a song that sits with you in your quietest hour and somehow leaves you lighter – then you should know William Prince. If you don’t already, consider this your invitation.
Prince was born in Selkirk, Manitoba, a direct descendant of Chief Peguis, and grew up on Peguis First Nation. Music was the family business and the family calling: his father, Edward, was a preacher and musician who made records of his own. William learned early that music could heal, could testify, could travel anywhere – even to the far north of Manitoba where he tagged along with his father playing gigs.
His solo debut “Earthly Days” came out in 2015, a quietly remarkable record whose single ‘Breathless’ eventually climbed the Billboard Adult Contemporary charts – an improbable but fitting breakthrough for an artist who doesn’t seem to chase trends. His follow-up, “Reliever” in 2020, deepened the conversation with songs about grief, gratitude and finding a way through. Later that same year he released “Gospel First Nation”, part tribute to his father’s gospel legacy, part exploration of faith on his own terms.
And then there’s “Stand in the Joy” from 2023, the album that feels like he let the sun in. It won him a Juno award, and songs like ‘When You Miss Someone’ and ‘Tanqueray’ seemed to catch Prince in a rare moment of celebration. It’s no accident that his latest album is called “Further From the Country”. It’s as if he’s taking everything he’s learned – the faith, the family, the joy, the sorrow – and sending it out into the wider world. These are songs of observation, of reflection, of asking what it means to belong.
Prince’s voice is the first thing that gets you – warm, resonant, a baritone that seems to carry an entire prairie sky in it – but it’s the words that keep you there. He writes with a plainspoken clarity that sneaks up on you, a kind of quiet moral authority. His best songs manage to find something you didn’t know you felt, or didn’t know how to express. ‘The Spark’, which won the SOCAN Songwriting Prize, is one of those: an anthem about love as a sustaining force. Prince opens this song with a question that immediately draws the listener in, “So, am I dreamin’/Or is this just how we’re living now?” It’s intimate, reflective, and sets the tone for a song about vulnerability in love. The chorus – “Don’t be afraid of the fire, babe, I’d never let you burn/And all these bridges we cross all have water underneath” – blends poetic metaphor with emotional reassurance, revealing Prince’s gift for writing about intimacy in a way that feels both cinematic and deeply personal. The song carries a tension between risk and safety, a hallmark of his ability to make love feel epic without ever tipping into melodrama. And the final line, the twist, is just brilliant.
Love and longing are common themes of Prince’s work. On ‘When You Miss Someone’ he contemplates absence with a quiet, elegiac touch, “Is the moon shining bright where you are? Is it even shining at all?” The lyric paints a sense of distance and longing, while the repeated refrain – “When you miss someone/Tears you apart and then some” – conveys universal grief with unflinching simplicity. Musically and vocally, the song feels spacious, leaving room for the listener’s own emotions, which is exactly the kind of intimacy that makes his work so affecting.
Though his music can be intimate, Prince’s reach is wide. He’s played the Newport Folk Festival, Massey Hall, the Grand Ole Opry. He’s toured with The War and Treaty and Yola. He’s the recipient of the John Prine Songwriter Fellowship – a fitting honour, since like Prine, he writes songs that feel destined to outlast us all. Live, Prince has a remarkable presence: modest and unassuming, he welcomes the audience into each story, then floors them with a voice and lyricism that fills the room. Songs that feel small on record often take on monumental weight in his hands on stage.
William Prince doesn’t make background music. These are songs to pay attention to, songs to live with. Maybe start with ‘When You Miss Someone’ if you need a gentle ache, “Gospel First Nation” if you want to feel the weight of tradition and hope, and then wait with excitement, like those who have already discovered him, for “Further From the Country” if you want to know where he’s headed next.
More people should really know about William Prince. He’s a songwriter who makes you feel seen, whose music captures moments of life in magical and compelling ways, and whose presence – on record or in person – is quietly, insistently unforgettable.
William Prince has the gift. That magic touch of being able to spin threads of musical gold.
I first came across him at the Americana Festival, performing at The MOTH Club, back in 2023.
The thing with that festival is you see a lot of artists who are pleasant enough, but don’t quite grab you.
With William I was grabbed in the first minute. I hate to use the term X Factor, because it has become so devalued. Yet he has that certain stage presence and the songs that immediately get their hooks into you. Plus he possesses a delightful, self deprecating sense of humour.
I got home raving to my wife about the two brilliant Canadian singer songwriters I had discovered (Julian Taylor being the other one).
She too became enamoured of both, but William is the man we’re talking about.
He should be a massive star.
I’d also recommend his song ‘Goldie Hawn’ to anyone who doesn’t know him.