It Started with a Question

My name is Dustin Kanady. Before anything else, I am a follower of Jesus Christ. My faith isn't a section of my life; it is the ground everything else stands on, and it drives all of what I do here. Every song, book, and film that comes out of Blackhawk Productions is meant to honor Him, whether it's a hymn built on Scripture, a tribute to a Medal of Honor recipient, or a goofy country song about one of my kids.

I grew up a Navy brat. My father, Garland "Gary" H. Kanady, Jr., served in the United States Navy, and our family moved about every two years as he got posted. My mother, Mary Francis Kanady, made a home for us wherever the orders sent us. Growing up that way teaches you a few things early: how to make new friends, how to say goodbye, and how much this country asks of the families who serve it. I wrote "My Father's Son" for my dad and "My Light Along the Way" for my mom. Both are portraits of the two people who formed me.

After graduating from The College of William and Mary in 1986, I headed to Fort Rucker, Alabama, for Army flight school and became a UH-60 Black Hawk pilot. I flew the DMZ and around South Korea for a year with the 2nd Infantry Division. Then I went to Fort Ord, California, with the 7th Infantry Division, where I served as adjutant to the Black Hawk battalion commander. During the operation in Panama to remove Noriega, I served on the brigade staff in the S3 shop (Operations), planning the missions rather than flying them.

I left the Army as a first lieutenant just before the Gulf War, but aviation never left me. That's where the name Blackhawk comes from. Some of the friendships from those years are still the closest of my life. "Radio Check!" is a song I wrote for an Army aviator buddy from flight school who had gone quiet on us. It's built entirely on aviation radio language, and it's my way of calling him back to check in.

Those years also deepened my love of liberty and of this country. Many of my songs tell the stories of the men and women who paid for our freedom: patriots at Lexington, Concord and Bunker Hill, soldiers in the World Wars, Vietnam and beyond, and Medal of Honor recipients whose faith shaped their courage. I research every detail, because they deserve to have their stories told accurately.

My grandfather on my father's side, Garland H. Kanady, was "Papoo" to us kids. My sister, Kristin LeMoyne Kanady, gave him that name. Papoo wrote poems, just like I do. Long after he was gone, his words found their way into two of my songs.

"This Rough Old Road" comes from a poem he wrote in 1959 about life's hard road, the friends who help us stand, and the One who points the way. "I'm All Mixed Up!" comes from a poem he wrote around 1970, which is a hilarious look at forgetting whether you're going up the stairs or coming down. It is one of the great joys of this work to sing Papoo's words again.

You may see some of my work tagged as AI-generated, and I want to be straight with you about what that means and what it doesn't.

The cover art: yes, AI helped. I'm not a painter. When I finish a song, I write a detailed description of the scenes I see in my head, then use AI image tools to render them, refining draft after draft until each image matches what I see in my mind. The vision is mine. The ideas and prompts are mine. The brush is a machine.

The lyrics: no, AI does not write them. Every word is mine. My songs start with a story I can't shake: a Medal of Honor citation, a passage of Scripture, a sermon, a moment from my Army years, or a memory about my kids. I research my historical songs until every detail is right. For Scripture-based songs, I study God's Word, talk with knowledgeable Christians I trust, and, when needed, seek guidance from my church's pastoral staff to make sure the song is doctrinally sound. Then I write and rewrite, line by line and word by word, until it says what my heart is trying to say. Nobody and no machine writes my songs, my books, or my film scripts for me.

The music: AI is my session band. I don't have a recording studio or a band on call, so I use an AI-powered Generative Audio Workstation to produce the sound. It doesn't create anything on its own; it needs a vision to work from. I tell it the genre, tempo, instruments, vocal style, and feel I'm hearing. Then I adjust, regenerate, and listen again, sometimes up to 125 times for a single song, until it matches the song in my head. Before anything is published, a team of close friends and relatives previews it, often two or three versions, along with the cover art. I take their input and make the final call.

Here's what I believe. Millions of people walk around with a song, a book, a film, or a painting inside them and no way to get it out. They have no studio, no orchestra, and no Hollywood budget. For most of history, those dreams died with them. AI is changing that. It doesn't replace the artist; it hands ordinary people the tools to share what God put in their hearts.

A hammer doesn't build a house, and AI doesn't write a song about a sergeant who refused to give up his Jewish soldiers, or a widow learning to love again. That comes from a human heart and mind. So when you see that label, know this: the art had help, and the music had help. The words, the stories, and the faith behind them are mine.