For the Idle No More Soundtrack: CerAmony's 'Looks Like Change (To Me)'


One might argue that Idle No More -- #IdleNoMore on Twitter -- was a movement waiting to happen, a feeling that has existed everywhere but needed communication and coordination to reach critical mass. The time has come -- today's world is one of crowdsourcing, flashmobbing, occupying and decolonizing, and with each step those fighting for a cause are finding new and better ways to make themselves seen and heard.

In terms of being seen, we've got designer Dwayne Bird's poster images promoting Indigenous unity, and for audio we've got Ricky Ogima's "Idle No More Song."

Moments ago, on Twitter, Cree band CerAmony sent out a contribution:

"If #IdleNoMore needs an anthem, CerAmony has one. This is the official video to Looks Like Change:"

That would make two Idle No More anthems by the Montreal-based rockers. Over a week ago, YouTube user littlebearvision uploaded an Idle No More tribute video set to "Last Great Men" -- another CerAmony song. Upon seeing the clip, the author of CerAmony's Twitter feed wrote "I only saw this today and was moved to tears. I never thought our song could stand for so much."

From Buffy Sainte-Marie to Blackfire, indigenous musicians have a strong tradition of creating music of resistance and hope. What others would you nominate for the #IdleNoMore mixtape?

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Anonymous's picture
Submitted by Anonymous on
This is Leena Minifie again -I think we are about to do a mix CD for IdleNoMore fully for BandCamp and sales go towards the cause - you guys down to contribute ?? Down for promo??

Anonymous's picture
Submitted by Anonymous on
Buffy Ste. Marie music always rings true and strong. The whole album, Coincidences and Likely Stories deals with the very issues faced by IDLE NO MORE. "Priests of the Golden Bull" is about exploiting resources, "While the Big Ones Get Away" exposes two-faced politicians, "Starwalker" speaks of bravery and inspirational leaders. Leaders like Chief Teresa Spence. Leaders like Pamela Palmateer. Back in l966, Buffy Ste. Marie wrote "My Country Tis of Thy People You're Dying". Forty six years later and it's been one Kinzua Dam after another. The exploitation must stop here. MY COUNTRY 'TIS OF THY PEOPLE YOU'RE DYING Now that your big eyes have finally opened, Now that you're wondering how must they feel, Meaning them that you've chased across America's movie screens. Now that you're wondering how can it be real That the ones you've called colorful, noble and proud In your school propaganda They starve in their splendor? You've asked for my comment I simply will render: My country 'tis of thy people you're dying. Now that the longhouses breed superstition You force us to send our toddlers away To your schools where they're taught to despise their traditions. You forbid them their languages, then further say That American history really began When Columbus set sail out of Europe, then stress That the nation of leeches that conquered this land Are the biggest and bravest and boldest and best. And yet where in your history books is the tale Of the genocide basic to this country's birth, Of the preachers who lied, how the Bill of Rights failed, How a nation of patriots returned to their earth? And where will it tell of the Liberty Bell As it rang with a thud O'er Kinzua mud, And of brave Uncle Sam in Alaska this year? My country 'tis of thy people you're dying. Hear how the bargain was made for the West: With her shivering children in zero degrees, Blankets for your land, so the treaties attest, Oh well, blankets for land is a bargain indeed, And the blankets were those Uncle Sam had collected >From smallpox-diseased dying soldiers that day. And the tribes were wiped out and the history books censored, A hundred years of your statesmen have felt it's better this way. And yet a few of the conquered have somehow survived, Their blood runs the redder though genes have paled. From the Gran Canyon's caverns to craven sad hills The wounded, the losers, the robbed sing their tale. From Los Angeles County to upstate New York The white nation fattens while others grow lean; Oh the tricked and evicted they know what I mean. My country 'tis of thy people you're dying. The past it just crumbled, the future just threatens; Our life blood shut up in your chemical tanks. And now here you come, bill of sale in your hands And surprise in your eyes that we're lacking in thanks For the blessings of civilization you've brought us, The lessons you've taught us, the ruin you've wrought us -- Oh see what our trust in America's brought us. My country 'tis of thy people you're dying. Now that the pride of the sires receives charity, Now that we're harmless and safe behind laws, Now that my life's to be known as your "heritage," Now that even the graves have been robbed, Now that our own chosen way is a novelty -- Hands on our hearts we salute you your victory, Choke on your blue white and scarlet hypocrisy Pitying the blindness that you've never seen That the eagles of war whose wings lent you glory They were never no more than carrion crows, Push the wrens from their nest, steal their eggs, change their story; The mockingbird sings it, it's all that he knows. "Ah what can I do?" say a powerless few With a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye -- Can't you see that their poverty's profiting you? My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.