“Waste My Time” by Keep in Touch: The DIY Music Video That Challenges Canada’s Arts Funding System

We caught up with Keep in Touch’s James and Jad, and Ziyaad Haniff—Director and Producer behind the video—to talk DIY artistry, industry critique, and turning nostalgia into protest.

“Waste My Time” pays tribute to 22 iconic Canadian music videos–from Bieber to Shania–while also poking at how the industry works. What sparked the idea to turn nostalgia into critique?

Ziyaad: The 3 of us have worked in the Arts & Entertainment industry for years, and we’ve witnessed many shifts during our professional careers, let alone what preceded us.

Despite advances in accessibility and reach, a sustainable career as an artist feels more mythological, especially when we look back on our predecessors, who often felt larger than life and ever-present. 

Instead of coming up with a video that catches attention for a few moments and disappears amongst a busy feed, we wanted to replicate the staying power of these artists; those moments were something to aspire to, rather than short-term spotlights.

You’ve said that if funders took more creative risks, the industry would actually grow faster. What made you want to challenge that system head-on, and why through this video?

Jad: Largely through personal experience and conversations with our community. Our song, Waste My Time, explores the nature of toxic relationships, as you endlessly drift in and out of each other’s worlds and ultimately make a mess of things. For better or worse, this felt like the perfect analogy for Canada’s music industry.

When we first wrote the song, we applied for funding through several of Canada’s grant networks to fund its recording (along with other songs for a full project) but weren’t accepted to any of them and couldn’t receive feedback on how to improve our chances.

Despite the blessings in our lives, neither of us were born into the industry or come from a level of nepotism that made our careers financially viable. While we’ve found success, it wasn’t enough to pay our rent, quit our jobs, or reprioritize our responsibilities. 

In practice, the grant system works to allow emerging artists without the same privileges or connections to pursue what may otherwise be an unattainable dream. But when you look at the publicly available funding reports, the majority of resources go towards already-supported artists, and it becomes cyclical. It doesn’t come as a surprise, as these artists are tried and tested; it’s the safe bet. But Canada’s music infrastructure has been in an ongoing rut, and it explains why so many artists end up jumping ship to the States.

Shooting the entire thing on an iPhone is such a statement in itself. What did working within that limitation unlock creatively for the team?

Ziyaad: Our individual creative journeys have largely been bootstrapped on our own, so we were conditioned with the mindset that every dollar counts. When it comes to film production, equipment can be 40% - 60% of your overall budget; are you getting a proportionate return on that investment? Could that money instead be allocated to the crew, so that they could have more income between jobs?

Documenting this on our phones was a way to show that you can have the same impact with minimal production, and that the budget can go towards people. People with money have more potential than the equipment you return to the rental house at the end of the day.

I think my favourite thing about shooting this off an iPhone was that you can just see more of what’s around you! We didn’t have gimbals, stands, or monitors blocking the view. When we had our community join us on set, I could see them and their reactions, and that energy motivated us.

There’s a fine line between parody and homage–how did you decide which moments from those classic videos to recreate, and how to make them your own?

James: We looked for videos that could be distinguished solely from a few moments, as well as some personal favourites. For our performances, we’d have different processes depending on the scale of the video we were recreating. For some, we’d make entire spreadsheets listing out timestamps for every beat of the choreography, and for others, we’d largely try to capture the vibe of the video. But regardless of the process, we wanted to do each one justice. We didn’t want to come across as making fun of these icons, but instead honoring those moments and creating a conversation around the shortcomings of the industry.

The project was fueled entirely by community support instead of major funding. How did that DIY spirit shape the energy and message of “Waste My Time”?

James: In addition to our self-confidence in our self-sufficiency, there’s an element of pettiness. Like, “Okay, you don’t think we’re worth funding? Fine. We’ll do it anyway. In fact, we’ll have more to show for our efforts.”

But even though that mindset played a part in the motivation to do the video, more than anything, Keep in Touch has always been about forming genuine connections with others. Being able to collaborate with creatives we’ve all worked with over the years, and even new friends, was not only an honor, but it helped solidify one of our core beliefs: community over industry.

You’re making a pretty bold case for investing in ideas, not just connections or status. What changes would you love to see in how Canada’s arts grants and funding are distributed?

Jad: Accessibility plays a major role. There needs to be more programs widely available to develop local Canadian talent; if the opportunities are so insulated, the rest of the population feels defeated with one less resource to use.

Additionally, grantors and decision-makers should broaden what their metrics of success are. If they’re funding a project just to see its completion, it might not have the lasting impact as a unique project that may move the needle, even if it’s just a bit.

Funding and development opportunities should be treated as investments, and we should invest in ideas that can benefit and grow the community as a whole.

If someone in power–a grantor, label exec, or policymaker–watched “Waste My Time,” what’s the one thing you’d want them to take away from it?

James: Innovation never stems from a place of safety. It’s through exploring new stories and having the courage to believe in something that may fail that you might just stumble onto something truly magical.