Thomas Duxbury and New Mother Nature Chase Heartache, Distance & the Places We Leave Behind on New Single, “Istanbul”
Hamilton, ON blues-rock outfit Thomas Duxbury and New Mother Nature share “Istanbul” – an energetic, riff-driven release that pairs upbeat, sun-soaked guitar work with deeply melancholic reflection. Equal parts homesick postcard and blues-rock catharsis, the track captures the ache of being split between places, people, and past lives.
“I wrote the song when I was living abroad and feeling homesick,” Duxbury explains. “Before I left for Scotland, I was standing in my driveway talking with my buddy Bruce – who plays keys on this track/bass with us live – and we chatted about potentially doing a trip to Istanbul while I was in Europe. That’s where the line I’m leaving but my heart’s still full, I can’t wait to see you in Istanbul came from. Fast forward about a month – I’m sitting in my dorm room with my guitar, playing what eventually became the riff for this song. I’m writing some words about being alone, feeling away from home… but I can’t find a chorus. Then that memory of the driveway comes to me and I think, ‘that’s the line.'”
The trip never happened – at least not yet – but the emotional imprint stuck.
“Once I got over being homesick, I really loved my time in Scotland,” Duxbury adds. “There is no winning when it comes to feeling like your heart is in two places at once. ‘Istanbul’ is about that feeling of wanting to be somewhere you cannot be right now – even if where you are currently is full of magic.”
The track is full of lived-in detail, including a moment during the solo where every part snaps together in a way the band didn’t plan but couldn’t let go of. There’s also one especially meaningful element.
“At the end of the song, my guitar slipped into this unique feedback loop that sounded exactly like my cat meowing,” Duxbury recalls. “He had passed away maybe three days prior. It sounded so eerily similar that I kept it in. I like to think that was Woodstock’s little feature on this track.”
Lyrically bittersweet but musically bright, “Istanbul” channels the rawness of Duxbury’s writing process – a space where travel, depression, grief, longing, and gratitude collide.
“A lot of my songs are just me trying to process my battle with depression,” he says. “I feel deeply for people. I miss my friends and family whether they’re far away, busy, or gone. The love is still there. We just have to make the most of the time we have and be grateful. It’s like that bittersweet feeling of neither here nor there.”
With its blend of driving blues, rock grit, and emotional undercurrents, “Istanbul” delivers the band’s signature mix of swagger and vulnerability – a bright, melodic tune carrying a heavy, human heart.
First off, care to introduce yourself to our readers?
Hello Canadian Beats readers! My name is Thomas Duxbury of New Mother Nature! I’m from Hamilton Ontario, I write some tunes, play some guitar, and have a cool new track out called Istanbul! I am honoured to be a part of this!
Tell me about your new single, “Istanbul.”
Istanbul is a song about never fully feeling at home anywhere once you start adventuring. I wrote this song in my flat when I was living in Aberdeen Scotland for school a few years back. It was actually probably my first week there on like a Saturday afternoon. And I’m sitting there feeling all homesick missing my friends and loved ones back in Canada as picking away at my guitar. I’m thinking maybe I made the wrong decision, oh no! I’m so far away from everybody, what do I do? And I think back to this line that my pal and bandmate Bruce Cole said to me before I left “I’m leaving but my heart’s still full, I can’t wait to see you in Istanbul” as we had discussed maybe doing a trip to Turkey and meeting there. And two things happen here:
- I realize that this line fits perfectly with what I am strumming on the guitar.
- I can sit around being sad about the friends and family not being here right now or I can go out and make more friends and family!
After all, I was in friggin Scotland! It took me so much hard work and time to get to this point in my life. To get me to this magical place known as Aberdeen (mild sarcasm but Aberdeen does have its magic)! So I finished writing this song. It was one of those moments where everything just kinda came out after this point. Once I understood what the message was and once I kinda let the stream of consciousness take over I suppose. Anyways, yall are here for a story so here we go! I popped on my blundstones and wandered my way to downtown Aberdeen! Ended up at this bar that I’m guessing was tailored to first years. Guessing because all the music was like this UK top 40 kinda whatever. Not really my scene. I head out, feeling a bit defeated. But then! Alas! I hear some punk music down the street and I think back to what my friend and fellow musician Jeremias once said to me “when you are lost in a new city you must follow the music”. So I do! And I sneak my way into this SWEET venue! Find myself in a mosh pit with some pints of beer and such. Anyways, I meet this dude whos like “im gonna show you some cool spots in Aberdeen” and immediately I’m frightened but I understand the theme of this night is… Adventure! So I end up going on a bar crawl with this random dude. And we end up at this place called Krakatoa. It’s like this neon pirate punk tiki themed bar. It’s this dude’s round of drinks so he hits up the bar and returns back with what I can only describe as a giant skull full of rum and a bit of juice… So yeah anyways… that was pretty much that night. I survived. Ended up back home somehow!
Fast forward a few days, I find out Krakatoa is doing this open mic. I think ok well last time was pretty decent I will go again! I load up my ol’ stratocaster and find my way back down there. Play a few tunes and figure alright let’s see what we can do about trying some new songs I’m working on! And you can picture me attempting to play Istanbul after having written it a few days prior at an open mic. But it happens! For the most part! Afterwards, I was invited to sit with this group that was sitting at one of the tables and I met some of the kindest and most wonderful folks I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. My pals Peter Wronski and Euan Macdonald ended up playing music with me over there under the name “The Hell Yeah Brothers” and both of these fine gentlemen also went on to work on an upcoming project with me that is yet to be announced.
And it’s also like, I’m always here for people when they need it too. To quote another line “don’t hesitate to call my name, from the bottom of a bottle”. Whether I’m physically here or not. I’m here, you feel?
You mentioned the chorus came from a memory of a driveway conversation with Bruce that resurfaced a month later in a dorm room. What was it about that specific line—”I’m leaving but my heart’s still full, I can’t wait to see you in Istanbul”—that finally unlocked the song for you?
It’s like you know, your heart is full. You can sit around and think all day that what you had once isn’t there right now. Or you can fill this emptiness with something positive. I don’t know if this is just a me thing or something but it’s this thing of openness to new adventures and opportunities. While still making space and time for those that we love. Even if they are not physically here right now. And this could mean a lot of things like maybe you live far away. Or maybe they’ve passed away or something. But you can hope to see the ones who are not here again someday. But have an open heart and mind for what is currently around you. In my case, this was the magical place that is Scotland. But you know now that I’m back I miss my friends back there. And, I miss all my friends I’ve made on the West Coast having lived out there. But! There is love and magic everywhere with an open mind and full heart!
“Istanbul” is described as “lyrically bittersweet but musically bright.” Was it a conscious choice to use upbeat, driving blues-rock to mask the heavier themes of depression and longing, or did the riff naturally dictate that energy?
Yeah see I don’t think this was necessarily an intentional thing although I would like to say it was. I do in hindsight think it fits the theme very well. It’s like what I’m saying can be a bit dark maybe. Like this feeling of being trapped in the “bottom of a grotto” but the music around it is all happy and upbeat. Listening back and thinking about my headspace at the time, it’s like there was so much joy around me and I was too focused on what was not there. Like, look around dude there is an upbeat guitar riff and a beautiful city to explore! And I did. But it took me doing that to realize what the song I had written to myself was actually about. If that makes sense?
You mentioned a moment during the solo where the band “snapped together” in a way that wasn’t planned. When you’re listening back to the track now, does that specific moment still stand out to you as the “heartbeat” of the recording?
Live it does. There is this synchronicity that happens with the band now when we play it live that resonates and “snaps” in such a satisfying way. January 31st 2026 at The Bright Room in Hamilton Ontario! You’ll see it happen there! I would say for the recording it is still a very satisfying point. Like it was not planned or anything it was just a part of the noodling that happened when I was coming up with the solo that just kinda stayed then everyone in the band started queueing into whenever we would play it. Now it has become such a neat part of the tune. I think though it is between that, the intro, and this neat little thing at the end actually. The buildup in my mind is such a big thing! Just that riff then that big chord! Then Jesse Stratton’s big drum fill in! Ooooh! Very tasty! But also in the theme of like those that aren’t here right now that kind of has surrounded this song since the beginning there is this bit at the end where the guitar is feeding back then it gets into this feedback loop that sounded eerily similar to my cat who had just passed away meow. It is hard to explain but there are a lot of these weird synchronicities surrounding this song. The more I do these sorts of write ups the more I notice the amount of these that surround this song. But the song is about celebrating those who are not here in both a physical way and a metaphysical way. In that theme, that feedback loop from one of the early demos was edited in.
You and Bruce have a history that goes back to that driveway conversation. How does having a long-term friendship like that impact the “blues-rock catharsis” you’re able to achieve when you’re performing together live?
Yeah I mean playing music with your pals is always the way. Setting aside the nonsense of like “trying to make it” as a musician the fundamental of this all is just making music with friends right. Of course trying to do this as best we can and all that too. I think this example is just with Bruce and his major contribution to this song. I could find a moment like this with all my music friends. This one is just a very specific example that turned into this song and very obviously credits Bruce with the chorus of this song haha. So yeah, maybe not just the driveway conversation. It’s like a cumulative thing of a lifetime of making music with friends, family, and loved ones that makes the New Mother Nature project so special. I would say that there is an energy on stage with any of the folks I have shared a stage with. They all are a primary part of what makes this project so special. And I am honoured to be surrounded by such talented musicians and great people. Shoutout to Bruce Cole, Bailey Osborne, Quentin Simms, Sadie Kostash, Zach Ridehalgh, Jesse Stratton, Peter Wronski, Euan Macdonald, Faith C Mish, and Laurent Schirrer. This project would not be anything without these wonderful folks!
For the official video, how did you go about capturing the “ache of being split between places”? Did you try to visually recreate that “homesick postcard” feeling mentioned in the release?
Well for me the Hamilton Airport holds such a special place in my heart. From visiting the Warplane Heritage Museum as a kid and the many airshows I would go to as a kid. To the many adventures I have gone on flying out of this airport. Or when I used to have an old pickup truck I used to bring my dates there to watch planes on spring/summer afternoons. Watching planes, wondering where they are going or where they are coming from. What stories are being brought back. All that. So I mean the video itself was kind of this guerilla style filmmaking on an old vhs camera for a bit of analog character and authenticity that me and my pal Dan Sullivan went out and did before the snow fell. I do think it captures what I was imagining. This is sort of confirmed to me because unplanned our filming got a bit delayed so the whole time we were basically chasing the daylight before the sun went down. But I think with this going on unintentionally we were presented with this most magical sunset throughout and particularly on the main shot with me pretending to play the guitar with the jet in the background. And at the end of the video, Dan pans the camera over to this most perfect of sunset shots. Now, going back to the synchronicities in this song. When I lined it up with the music we were playing along to this sunset shot is at the exact point that this moment with what sounded like my cat coming through my amplifier happened in the song. I had also had a friend lose a battle with cancer the week this was filmed. And like, it is probably some sort of coincidence or something. Not to get all spiritual or metaphysical or whatever. But, that sunset was an absolute gift.
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