Hughes’ debut self-titled album combines indie folk with roots that run deep
Yellowknife singer-songwriter Benji Straker has unveiled the debut self-titled album from his indie folk project Hughes, a collection of songs written over the past decade and brought to life with his newly formed full band. Tracked entirely in his home studio, The Penalty Box, the record explores themes of family, memory, and connection to place, with the single “The Cabin” serving as its emotional centerpiece. We caught up with Benji to talk about the evolution of Hughes, the inspiration behind the album, and the northern landscapes that continue to shape his music.
This record spans over a decade of songwriting. How did it feel to bring those older songs into the present, and in what ways did the band setting change the way you approached them?
It was both surreal and grounding to revisit songs I wrote ten or even twelve years ago. At the time, many of them felt like sketches — pieces of a moment that I wasn’t quite ready to share as a solo artist. Some were performed a decade ago as different versions in my alt/punk band at the time. Bringing them forward into this record gave me a chance to see how those ideas aged, how they still held meaning, and how my perspective on them had shifted. Some songs that once felt deeply personal now feel more universal, and that’s a powerful transformation.
With the band and in this genre, those older tracks suddenly had fresh life. Instead of trying to fill every space with textures on my own, I could lean into the band’s natural dynamics. A subtle bass groove, a drum pattern, or a guitar line could completely change the emotional weight of a song. It reminded me that music isn’t static — it grows with you, and it grows even more when you share it with others.
You tracked the entire album at your home studio, The Penalty Box. What role did that setting play in shaping the sound and intimacy of the record?
Recording in The Penalty Box was crucial to how this album turned out. There’s something about being in your own space — no clock ticking down, no pressure to nail a take before your time runs out. I could experiment endlessly, layering instruments, trying out different vocal deliveries, or sitting with a song until it felt right.
That freedom created a certain intimacy. I wasn’t rushing or forcing anything; I was living with the songs and letting them unfold naturally. The setting also shaped the textures — you can almost hear the quiet of the Yellowknife winter outside the walls of the studio, the stillness that gave me space to dig deeper. It’s not a polished, sterile environment — it’s a lived-in, very personal space, and I think that comes through in the record.
And of course, naming the studio The Penalty Box and my deep connection to hockey — it’s where you’re supposed to sit out and think about what you’ve done, which feels fitting for a place where I spent so much time reflecting and working through these songs.
“The Cabin” is such a vivid song rooted in your family history and northern landscape. How do the places and land around Yellowknife continue to influence your songwriting?
The land here is inescapable — it’s always present in the way you think and feel. Long winters, endless summer light, the silence of the bush, the ruggedness of the rocks and lakes — all of it seeps into the music. “The Cabin” is directly tied to my family’s story, but even when I’m not writing about specific places, the north shapes the mood and pacing of my songs.
I think there’s a spaciousness to northern living that finds its way into the music. There’s room for reflection, for quiet, for slow-building ideas. At the same time, the starkness of the landscape carries weight — it can be isolating, humbling, even harsh. That balance of beauty and challenge feels central to the songs I write.
You worked with Shea Alain on “The Cabin.” How did that collaboration come about, and what did their contributions bring to the track?
Shea and I had been friends and mutual admirers of each other’s work for a while, so when I was finishing “The Cabin,” it felt natural to ask if he wanted to be part of it. He has this incredible ability to create ambient, ethereal soundscapes in songs, and I knew that energy would bring a whole new dimension to the track.
When we sang together, our voices just clicked — the harmonies blended in a way that felt both natural and haunting. Because the song is rooted in family history and memory, having Shea’s voice alongside mine almost made it feel like a dialogue, or like the story was being carried by more than one perspective. On top of that, Shea has his own deep connection to our northern landscape — through his cabin and time spent outdoors — which gave his performance an authenticity that felt inseparable from the song’s themes. His contributions gave “The Cabin” a depth and atmosphere I couldn’t have achieved on my own.
At the heart of Hughes, you’ve said the album is about family, friendship, and the places that shape us. What do you hope listeners who may not share your specific experiences take away from these songs?
I hope listeners feel the universality beneath the personal details. Even if you didn’t grow up in the north or share the same family history, I think we all know what it’s like to wrestle with memory, to hold onto places and people who shaped us, and to search for meaning in those connections.
My goal wasn’t to make the songs feel exclusive to my story, but to use my story as a doorway into something bigger. If listeners hear a lyric and it reminds them of their hometown, their relationships, their true loves, or the landscape that made them who they are, then I feel like the music has done its job.