SPHR Concordia is keeping Palestinian culture alive and atmospheric
During an evening of food, music and conversation on the 7th floor of the Hall building on Jan. 25, the Solidarity for Palestinian Human Rights Association (SPHR) at Concordia aimed to raise money to donate to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) for Palestinian refugees. Tickets were sold for $15 each and the group managed to raise over $1,000.
The event, called Eat Like A Palestinian, began with a buffet of traditional Palestinian dishes like fatouch salad, frekeh soup, and msakhan. The food was prepared by Om Ossama, a Palestinian woman dedicated to supporting Palestinian community events through her cooking skills. Many of the event’s attendees were learning about Palestinian dishes for the first time.
Eat Like A Palestinian, an event which sold out on Facebook, took place on the seventh floor of the Hall building on Jan. 25. Photo by Mishkat Hafiz.
Syrian-Canadian student Marya Akkad, who attended the event, said “it’s very atmospheric and cultural. Everyone is very welcoming, and the music reminds me of home.” She added that she was pleased with the strong cultural identity at the event.
After dinner, a live band played traditional Arabic songs with a combination of instruments; an oud, a saxophone and drums. Guests clapped to the music and sang along. A few got up to dance. After the band was done, people continued to dance to Palestinian songs played over projected images of Palestine and symbols of its culture.
Later, one of the team organizers started a Palestinian trivia game. The prizes were traditional Palestinian accessories, which were also sold at the event. The trivia game also provided an opportunity for people to contextualize Palestinian hardships through historical facts. The dinner party reflected Palestinian culture through the hospitality of the organizing team, and tales of endurance of the Palestinian people.
Many of the organizers believe this type of event keeps the Palestinian culture alive, instead of focusing on the political disputes surrounding the country.
President of the SPHR Concordia, Houda Kerkadi, spoke about the motivation behind hosting the event. “We were thinking of ways we can help, [rather than] simply [asking] people for money,” Kerkadi said. She also hoped to provide an interactive experience that combined raising money with a cultural experience.
“We asked ourselves, ‘What would combine people of all ethnicities and backgrounds together like food?’ Arabs don’t always agree on political leanings when it comes to Palestine, but we can all agree that we love the food,” Kerkadi said.
SPHR Concordia is planning a few more events this semester, including Israeli Apartheid week and an end of year celebration.
The case against a genre that generalizes the planet
When someone talks to you about pop music, you have a certain idea of what that sounds like. The same goes for rock and its various subgenres: punk, metal, grunge. Likewise, if I say I like hip hop or R&B, you can somewhat tell what kind of sound I’m into. But what about world music? What does that evoke? Does it even mean anything at all?
The term “world music” is not only odd, but it is also sometimes used in a way that’s almost perversely Western-centric. When scouring Apple Music’s genres, for example, you’ll see pop, alternative, hip hop, rock, country, and jazz as some of the main genres. Then, at the bottom of the list, the “world” section sits, devoid of any indicator as to exactly what you’ll find inside.
Though surprising at first, there is such a concept as world music—and it is in total opposition to the “genre” found on various streaming apps, containing music from all over the world with no distinction of style. In North America, one of the first definitions for world music date back to the 1960s and was coined by ethnomusicologist Robert Brown.
As Brown founded the World Music Program at Wesleyan University in 1965, in Connecticut, his goal was to put Western music on the same proportional ground as other musical trends across the globe. The term “world music” actually referred to music from across the world, separated into traditions that pertained to certain geographical boundaries. Thus, the term was meant to be inclusive—not distinguishing Western music from other trends, but putting it on the same stand as everything else.
Brown’s definition of the term, however, did not catch on elsewhere in the United States. The 1970s brought the creation of more institutions with a focus on “world music.” Those institutions would use the term to define “non-Western” or “ethnic” musical trends—something that seemingly has remained until today, to a certain extent. The name became popular, to a point where we now have an entire Billboard chart (established in the 1990s) dedicated to this new marketed “genre.”
But now, in 2019, as you look down that chart, a couple things stand out. As of Jan. 12, the top 12 albums on Billboard’s Top World Albums Chart were released by South Korean K-Pop groups, who perform typically pop, hip hop, or EDM-influenced music. This time last year, Billboard’s top 10 featured K-Pop sensation BTS at the top (hip hop, South Korea), rival group EXO following right behind (R&B, South Korea), and a potluck of international artists: Trio Da Kali and Kronos Quartet (traditional griot, Mali), Celtic Thunder (Celtic folk, Ireland), Residente (hip hop, Puerto Rico). Seemingly, the only similarity between these artists is their non-Americanness, and possibly, the language in which they perform.
Streaming apps, such as Spotify and Apple Music, have already started making efforts—half-assed, but efforts nonetheless—in endowing their platforms with more inclusive labels. Spotify has no world-labelled genre subsection. Instead it has specific, geographically-based ones: Arab, Desi (India, Pakistan, Bangladesh), Afro (non-Arab, often Black artists from Africa), K-Pop and Latin. Apple Music follows a similar trend, with K-Pop and Latino genre labels, yet still provides a world section, with a patchwork selection of genres.
However, the issue with such geographical labels is that, while efficient and somewhat seemingly inclusive, they still make an odd distinction of the “other.” Does your streaming app offer a “Western” subgenre?
Yeah. That’s what I thought.
These geographical labels can be useful—especially if you’re curious about music in a certain language, or from a specific country—but shouldn’t constitute genres in and of themselves. While this could have been different a century ago, the truth is that artists from across the planet now perform in a wide range of styles, regardless of borders. Geographical distinctions can—even should—exist alongside musical distinctions.
Here’s an idea: bring the “world” artists in the “Western” genres. Get NCT 127 (urban hip hop, South Korea) to compete with other pop or hip hop artists. Bring Babylone (indie folk, Algeria) into the folk charts. Don’t keep Maritta Hallani’s latest album, Maritta (pop, Lebanon), to a style limited by the language she sings in. In fact, this isn’t a novel idea: Spanish singer Rosalía was featured in both Apple Music’s World and Pop genre sections with her album El mal querer, a brilliant flamenco record infused with R&B and pop influences. So, why not do the same for everyone?
Mariana Vial, Coco Belliveau, Sandi Armstrong, Heidi Lynne Weeks and Adina Katz of the Jazz Ands introduce themselves to the audience. Photo by Kenneth Gibson.
The Jazz Ands insert improv comedy into their performance for an hour of excitement
Winter’s deep freeze had just begun last Thursday, when the Jazz Ands performed the first of four upcoming monthly improvised musical theatre shows at Montreal Improv.
Nonetheless, a full room of eager audience members awaited the troupe when they hit the stage displaying the kind of enthusiasm people have come to expect from musical theatre types.
That particular brand of earnest passion can be summed up in a term we’re all familiar with now, “jazz hands,” and the troupe’s name is a actually a pun combining that term with the “Yes, and” rule from improv theatre.
They began by simply asking the audience to name a location where people might gather, and an object. The audience offered up a cabin in the woods and a vase. With that, the Jazz Ands set off to create an hour-long musical completely off the top of their heads. Pianist Marie Fatima Rudolf provided the musical accompaniment and vital music cues that helped keep the performers on track.
As you can imagine, the plot became increasingly absurd and convoluted, but that’s a large part of where the comedy comes from.
All the members of the Jazz Ands have been performing improv theatre in Montreal for many years. Adina Katz first met other troupe members Sandi Armstrong, Heidi Lynne Weeks and Mariana Vial about 10 years ago while performing improv at Théâtre Sainte-Catherine.
Katz would go on to leave Montreal for a while, studying musical improv at the Magnet Theater, an improv comedy theatre and school in New York City, as well as The Second City in Chicago. When she returned to Montreal, Katz was the driving force behind introducing more musical elements to the improv performed and taught at Montreal Improv.
“Witnessing the huge scene of musical improv in New York and Chicago,[…] I’m like ‘I want to come back to Montreal and this is one of the things I want to do, I want to teach, I want to have my own troupe,’” Katz said.
So when Katz returned to Montreal in 2017, she reached out to her old friends in the improv scene and convinced them to start the Jazz Ands, adding Coco Belliveau after seeing her sing during an improv performance at Théâtre Sainte-Catherine.
Despite the other members being a little nervous due to a lack of extensive musical theatre backgrounds, Katz knew their long history of improv performance would carry them through. That wealth of experience showed on stage. Notably, the musical they performed didn’t overly suffer from the pitfalls you might expect of unrehearsed performance, namely aimlessness and lack of narrative punch.
Sure, none of the songs they came up with are going to win a Tony Award anytime soon, and it had a slightly anarchic quality that comes from scriptless performance. Even so, there ended up being a defined narrative arch, vivid characters and a dramatic “shock” ending.
Katz does now teach musical improv at Montreal Improv. Happily, many of her students have gone on to form their own musical improv troupes, helping to grow this kind of performance in Montreal.
“It comes from just pure love and the fun of it, and it needs to be happening in Montreal. It’s so much fun to do and so much fun to watch,” Katz said.
The Jazz Ands will perform three more shows over the next three months. Each will be thematic, with February, of course, being romance-centric, and April being dedicated to spring. Katz encourages all fans of theatre to come out to a show, even those that may not have considered improv performance before.
“Even if you’ve never seen improv, but you like musical theatre, let’s say, come watch us goofballs improvise a show,” Katz said.
In early August 2018, one month before his untimely passing, Mac Miller released his fifth studio album, Swimming. Almost two years since his previous release, Miller returned with his most complete body of work. His last major release, The Divine Feminine, painted a picture of Miller in love and happier than ever. In stark contrast, Swimming is Miller at his loneliest, most troubled, and introspective.
This album delves deeply into his mental state, substance abuse problems and heartbreak, while highlighting the anguish that follows. His reflection on these experiences comes across as wise and extremely self-aware, sounding like a man at peace with his reality. Even in its lighter moments, such as with the funk-infused, Thundercat-assisted jam “What’s the Use?,” Miller is still dealing with his demons. At its darkest, Swimming tells the tale of a man wounded, drowning in a sea of self-doubt, self-meditation and self-medication.
The album’s strongest moment, “2009,” is gorgeous, starting off with a swell of violins that lead into a beautiful piano loop. Lyrically, Miller reflects on his career and his journey, from his breakout mixtape, to 2018. Miller’s career was one to behold. From stoner-friendly frat rapper to one of the most diverse and talented people in hip hop, his growth was astounding. With every release, he got better and better. Swimming is Mac Miller’s best album and one of the best albums of 2018.
Philadelphia rapper Meek Mill, who recently made headlines for his issues with the law, uses his fourth studio album Championships as a public service announcement to the world. In the lengthy, 19-track project, Mill outlines the discrimination of the justice system against minorities in the United States, as well as the struggles and limitations faced by those in communities of lower socioeconomic status.
In “Intro,” the Philly artist sets the precedent, gradually gaining intensity over a nostalgic, creative sample of Phil Collins’s “In the Air Tonight”. He discusses the complex life of trials and tribulations he faced as a youth in the rough neighbourhood of North Philadelphia.
With a long list of notable features including Drake, Cardi B and Kodak Black, the project’s songs cover a wide array of themes. Mill discusses his relationships with different women on softer, more sensual tracks like “24/7,” featuring up-and-coming British R&B singer Ella Mai. He completely switches gears on tracks like “Uptown Vibes,” which features veteran rapper Fabolous and Reggaeton artist Anuel AA over a triumphant, horn-heavy trap instrumental. Mill clearly attempted to please all kinds of fans with versatile songs throughout the album.
It was Mill’s recent controversial convictions on an unrelated probation sentencing that occurred over 10 years ago that sparked his activism. He has vowed to bring injustice towards minorities in America to light, and Championships is the most recent proof of his work for the greater good.
8.5/10
Trial Track: “Oodles O’ Noodles Babies”
Star Bar: “Victim to the system like a raindrop in the ocean
They closin’ all the schools and all the prisons gettin’ open” (from the track “Championships”)
The prevalence of feuds in the rap world has existed since its beginning and shows no sign of slowing down as 2018 nears its end.
The past year has reminded us why it is so hard to take our eyes off of hip hop and why rap has overtaken rock as the most popular music genre. The spontaneous album releases, the frequent guest features and no shortage of new music keeps fans on their toes at all times. Lest we forget, the rivalries.
Drake and Pusha T’s back-and-forth diss tracks about deadbeat dads and poking fun at the diseased had listeners debating whether there was such a thing as lines not to be crossed in rap battles. Cardi B and Nicki Minaj’s physical altercation at New York Fashion Week reignited the beef between the queens of rap that began last year and is likely to continue into the new year. 6ix9ine and Trippie Redd got personal over popularity and women via Instagram Live. Eminem and Machine Gun Kelly traded lyrical disses after Em rekindled the flame with a subliminal shot towards MGK on his surprise album, Kamikaze. 50 Cent has used Instagram as his platform to poke fun at… well, just about everyone.
This is not to say that rivalries do not exist in other genres. Kurt Cobain hated Pearl Jam, his grunge rival. It was virtually forbidden to be both a Beatles fan and a Rolling Stones fan. Lynyrd Skynyrd called out Neil Young by name on “Sweet Home Alabama,” and Taylor Swift probably still hates Kanye West.
Yet why do rivalries seem to be so much more prevalent in rap than any other genre?
One reason may be that the majority of rap music is predominantly driven by hypermasculine rappers with something to prove. As everyone strives to be called the greatest, any threat to them is a threat to their manhood. Violence and ego are often the genre’s primary subject matter, and verbal attacks are commonly the weapon of choice. As such, diss tracks have become a public outlet to be used as a battlefield.
Additionally, the popularity of many rappers today can be attributed to their rise to prominence on social media. With thousands or millions of followers keeping tabs on them, one call-out or comment about another artist can be blown out of proportion and easily turned into something more. Rappers can also use social platforms to directly fuel controversies that build on their personas. Social media apps and streaming sites have been responsible for many SoundCloud rappers-turned-more whose personalities are widely broadcast for everyone to see.
Rappers also tend to be solo artists. This means any fight they find themselves in within the industry is with other artists, making it more likely to be heard of in the media. The type of fights rock bands have tend to be internal, while rap beefs end up on Instagram. Disputes among band members are the reason why the Beatles broke up and why Liam and Noel Gallagher won’t be having an Oasis reunion any time soon.
Rap battles and diss tracks will be around as long as the genre exists. As long as it remains verbal, beef is perhaps what makes the genre so enticing because it forces artists to flex their hardest and outdo their opponent. After all, there’s only room for one winner.
Nightclubs are beginning to address the sexual harassment marginalized groups experience
Suppose you want to have a fun night out with a group of friends, but you’re not a cisgender, heterosexual male. Of course, bartenders are usually apt to thwarting suspicious behaviour, and venues often have bouncers or security for when dodgy situations escalate. Nonetheless, for marginalized groups—namely the LGBTQ+ community, women of colour (WoC) and cisgender women—a night out typically entails a mixture of catcalling, verbal harassment, non-consensual physical interactions, and, in too many cases, sexual assault.
In 2017, just under 30,000 sexual assault cases in Canada were reported to the police, according to a StatsCan report released in July. Of those cases, almost 4,000 were deemed unfounded, meaning “police determined that no crime had taken place,” reads the same report. The Conseil des Montréalaises released an opinion paper titled “Montreal, a Festive City for all Women: Security of Trans Women and Girls at Outdoor Events in Montreal.” It cites studies indicating that, in 2011, 47 per cent of women felt twice as nervous as men walking through their neighbourhoods at night, and 45 per cent of women avoid certain areas at night. These, and many other reports, cannot even begin to quantify the degree of sexualized violence marginalized communities experience and the number of unreported sexual assault cases.
Christopher Roberts, a Concordia student who enjoys Montreal’s nightlife, said they spent a lot of time at Bar Datcha, a popular cocktail nightclub on Avenue Laurier W., one block west of St-Laurent Blvd., one of Montreal’s popular nightlife strips. Datcha is a nightclub that recently partnered with PLURI, a non-profit organization aiming to reduce harassment on dance floors. Through integrated safety monitors visible by the yellow ‘Party Support’ label on their backs, or staff shirts from respective venues, PLURI volunteers are trying to make dance floors more enjoyable for everyone by intervening in harassment situations before they escalate.
PLURI, which stands for Peace Love Unity Respect Initiative, was co-founded by Éliane Thivierge and Celeste Pimm, alongside a small team of other volunteers, in August 2016. The non-profit offers a range of workshops for event organizers, bar staff, and aspiring volunteers that provide “training on how to recognize harassment, how certain systemic oppressions interact with party spaces and bystander intervention,” according to an interview with PLURI.
Party Support volunteers have been present at music festivals such as MUTEK, POP Montreal, Red Bull Music Festival, and Slut Island. PLURI explained that Party Support volunteers are the “middle [ground] between the event patron and security… They are points of contact that are more accessible and less intimidating than security.”
Bar Datcha, a popular cocktail nightclub on Avenue Laurier W., one block west of St-Laurent Blvd., one of Montreal’s popular nightlife strips. Photo by Alex Hutchins.
Patrick Gregoire has been the manager of Datcha for the past four years. He said the venue has been working with PLURI’s dance floor safety monitors for over six months, despite only announcing their partnership just over a month ago. Gregoire explained that, at first, the Party Support volunteers were inconspicuous, and didn’t wear any labels that indicated their position. “But we felt that their work is best when people see someone on the dance floor with authority that isn’t security,” said Gregoire.
Roberts explained two instances, both occurring the same night at Datcha, which involved their friends experiencing sexual harassment to the point where bar staff and security intervened. “The wrong people found [their] way to [some] queer people […] and one was grabbing people, including my friend,” said Roberts. “I found a bartender to let them know the situation and, immediately, a bouncer kicked the guy out.” Roberts said the second incident involved a cis male harassing two of their queer friends and, when the situation escalated, Roberts “made eye contact with a bouncer who immediately dissolved the situation.”
Carla, a bartender at Datcha, said she’s very happy about the bar’s collaboration with PLURI. “It’s a plus having that extra team around,” she said. “And the fact that they’re all women—I love.”
Chris, another bartender at Datcha, said he’s been fortunate enough to “work [at] places where [they’ve] always had someone to deal with those issues.” Carla added that the Party Support volunteers try to educate people and deconstruct instances of harassment. “At the end of the night, the girls all sit down with security and the bouncers and go over what happened that night,” said Carla. “It’s really cool.”
Gregoire, as well as PLURI, emphasized the benefit of having initiatives like Party Support. “Before, these things wouldn’t get flagged until it was a problem,” said Gregoire. “[Volunteers] often end up checking in with people who are being harassed before they decide to reach out for help,” explained PLURI. The non-profit organization added that most patrons facing harassment will accept the support offered instead of tolerating these behaviours or removing themselves from the space.
Concordia journalism student and techno music enthusiast Erika Morris said that an initiative like PLURI “makes [her] feel better about these places recognizing an issue and trying to do something about it.” Security has been helpful at times by keeping their eyes on men who harass her, explained Morris. “Sure, it made me feel a bit safer that night, but the next time I went out, I had just as many chances of being harassed again,” she said. Marginalized communities—particularly queer folk—who experience harassment in public spaces, thus creating the need for these programs, “just reflects a higher societal problem,” added Morris.
“I think it’s cool that these people who are volunteers stay sober to try and help people,” said Morris. Roberts agreed that they feel PLURI and the Party Support initiative is an important step towards helping marginalized communities feel safe when they go out at night. “But in the end,” said Roberts, “there’s an overwash of sorrow that reminds our communities that we are being pushed into corners of spaces […]. [We] need more help than ever just to feel comfortable being with each other and ourselves for a night.”
English post-punk outfit leave life and lyrics on the line at Théâtre Fairmount
Frontman Joe Talbot gives Fairmount all of his energy. Photo by Simon New.
“It’s not up to me whether you love yourself, it was a period in my life where I had to do it,” said Joe Talbot, lead vocalist of Idles. The five piece band from England is touring North America and Europe with their new album, Joy as an Act of Resistance. They broke out last year with Brutalism, which put the punks on the map for their sardonic polemics on nationalist English politics over unfiltered, blaring guitars and percussion.
For their second album, the pressure was on to feed the flame first fanned with Brutalism.
Ultimately, they tried to make the first record again. The band felt frustrated in attempting to capitalize on hype, and finally scrapped the project. “We were in a downward spiral; we had to learn to enjoy ourselves, for ourselves,” said Talbot. His mother passed away during the creation of Brutalism and, in February, he stopped drinking after struggling with alcoholism. Joy as an Act of Resistance shows joy as resistant to different things, one being turbulence in the band members’s own lives.
At the depths of Talbot’s depression, he found joy through vulnerability in therapy. “I carried so much weight of turmoil and insecurities all my life. As soon as I started becoming vulnerable, exchanging vulnerability with my partner and my friends, a weight was lifted,” he said.
The idea of vulnerability is fuel for the joy expressed throughout the album. Each song is a detonation of ego, masculinity, xenophobia and other topics that Talbot and the gang gun down one by one. When explaining the project to me, Talbot retained that same humility and honesty, making no attempt to oversell his recent indie smash. While technically robust and more polished than ever, Idles’s sound alone was never their defining feature. “I think being derivative is a dirty word in cool bands,” Talbot admitted.
Guitarist Lee Kiernan lets the crowd know what’s on the menu. Photo by Simon New.
The tone is raucous, but the lyrics are dead-simple. After Brutalism, Talbot resisted overcomplicating the next record. “I just wanted to make an album that was as naive as possible,” he said. He explained that on the track “Danny Nedelko,” a pro-immigration anthem about Talbot’s best friend, a Ukrainian immigrant to Bristol, Talbot’s simple thesis is “why would you want to kick someone out who’s a nice person?” Talbot said he wants to make people dance and think at the same time. “Obviously, there’s a huge weight behind what I’m saying. If you sit me down with some other pseudo-intellectual we could sit there and ponder on the importance of immigration,” he laughed.
Kiernan gets some close praise from an exuberant fan. Photo by Simon New.
Talbot writes in simple, childlike syntax on this album as an intentional subversion of hype from Idles’s last album. “What I wanted to do is make an album that joyfully resists the trope of ‘this pseudo-intellectual band that are gonna do something clever with the second album, like they did that rudimentary first album,’” he said. “So I was like alright, I’m going to make something that sounds childlike. I’m going to write lyrics that a 10-year-old could write,” he said.
“It’s also something that I thought would be a vulnerable act, is to be naive, because critics don’t like naivety,” said Talbot. Indeed, Pitchfork’s review panned the latest record for painting with too broad a stroke.
The direct nature of the lyrics and the explosive energy of Idles’s sound makes for a wildfire of a live show. The boys played Théâtre Fairmount on Tuesday, Sept. 18. As they opened with “Colossus,” a booming, slowburn of an album opener on Joy as an Act of Resistance, you could see that the crowd had been waiting for this moment for months. All of the visceral, focused chaos that comes across in Idles’s sound was there in the live show. Explosive, animated performances from all five members left the crowd teaming with energy, boiling over into moshes that made you check your ego at the door. And for a time, there was nothing to resist, just pure, unmitigated joy.
Syngja is preparing for the release of their new album, Echoing Rose (Live in Iceland),
on Nov. 3 at The Diving Bell Social Club.
A Saturday night performance feels more akin to a ritual than a concert
Synths and cellos slow dance, then tango to dream-pop fables by Montreal storytellers, Syngja. Appearing on stage like apparitions in a dream, their Sept. 15 performance at Brasserie Beaubien feels more akin to a folkloric ritual than a musical act. Watching Týr Jami and Justin Guzzwell is like overhearing a secret you’re not supposed to know about.
Lights of all colours spill into every crevice of the room, alongside images from another time and place. Much of Syngja’s music is inspired by tapes—Jami’s great grandmother would record and send them to family members following her migration from Iceland to Manitoba. Tonight, spinning projections of lang amma (Icelandic for great-grandmother), light the way for Syngja as they time travel through her memory.
The journey begins in a landscape of reverberating sounds, like whispers on a cave wall. Between slow tambourine samples and anxious strings, Jami and Guzzwell seem to be warning the audience of a sinister presence, one which lyrics caution is dangerous “when you lock eyes” and “when you can’t see.” This new song, “Water Spirits,” is more experimental than the pop-beat anthems of Lang Amma, Syngja’s last record, and shapes a vision of what their upcoming releases might be like.
The eerie tambourines soon evaporate, replaced by the popcorn beat from “Surface of the Sea.” Guzzwell’s synths and Jami’s cello entrance the audience while lyricism weaves the tale of “a madman about to find love.” The crowd sways back and forth to the oscillating beat. During the last song, “Palm Reader,” Jami puts down her cello and dances alongside Guzzwell, sometimes bouncing, other times gliding in a sparkling mirage of sequins. Syngja’s musical acts are frequently accompanied by dancing and theatrics, often involving a troupe, but tonight, it is just the duo. Zuzu Knew, mastermind behind the evening’s visuals, is absent, but nevertheless feels present among the many pools of light emanating from the stage.
Having recently returned to Montreal after an artist residency in Iceland, Syngja is preparing for the release of their new album, Echoing Rose (Live in Iceland), on Nov. 3 at The Diving Bell. Their first release since 2016, Jami said Echoing Rose will continue to explore the mythology of lang amma’s memory. Through dreamlike, sonic storytelling, Syngja will once again offer mere mortals an opportunity to travel through time and space.
The Faceplants’s debut show in Montreal was one to remember, as the band members put on a high energy performance for the crowd.
The journey of the Vancouver-based band who released a killer first album
Over 10 years ago, at a skatepark in Vancouver, Daniel Botch and Garrett Ward decided to form a band. Now, after years of hard work, they look at each other on stage at Montreal’s Piranha Bar on Aug. 28 and think to themselves, “We’ve made it.”
At just 14 years old, Botch and Ward started The Faceplants. Botch used to live in Winnipeg, but moved to Vancouver when he was young. There, he met Ward—they lived close by, went to the same high school, and have been close friends ever since.
Botch, the lead singer, and Ward, the guitarist, reminisce on what inspired the name of their band, but both have very different stories. Ward’s take on the name is that, while skateboarding, he would quite literally faceplant off his board—and it stuck. He thought it was the obvious choice for the band name. Botch’s version of the story is that they were very inspired by ska music. Ska pulls inspiration from reggae and rock. Many ska bands have outrageous names, and “The Faceplants” fit the bill.
Over the years, the band has evolved. Eight years ago, 23-year-old pianist Graham MacKinnon joined The Faceplants. He knew Botch and Ward from high school, and said that being younger than them has made him grow up sooner than he thought he would have otherwise. Almost four years ago—a year before the band went on a hiatus to rework their image and sound—28-year-old drummer Paddy Spencer and 22-year-old bassist Chris Wong joined the band, and The Faceplants as we know them have been together ever since.
The self-managed band says that they were lucky enough to be able to take those three years off to really work on their music the way that they wanted to. They wanted to be proud of what they were putting out, rather than just following music trends like they did before their hiatus. After years of hard work and dedication to their craft, The Faceplants came out with their first LP, which was released on July 27.
Animalistic has nine songs and runs for 38 minutes. The same day as Animalistic’s long-awaited release, the band left for a cross-country tour. They hauled themselves and their equipment in a 12-passenger van, hitting 16 cities in just over a month, Montreal being the third-to-last stop.
Spencer describes The Faceplants’s musical style as a “modern twist on classic rock,” which you get a taste of when they start their set with “Animal.” The song has a tribal drum beat throughout most of it, high energy vocals, an almost in-the-jungle feel, very true to its name. The next song they play is “Unholy,” which is undoubtedly their most well-known song. The first 90 seconds is vocals and piano, then you get hit with drums, bass and guitar, all seamlessly melded together to give you the perfect rock experience.
The band closes off their high-energy, crowd-interactive set with the last song on their album, “Sweet Living Sickness /// The Journey,” which is a collective favourite for the bandmates. The song expresses the journey that The Faceplants have gone on over the past few years. Every song on the LP makes a reappearance on this final track, with part of each melody bleeding into the background.
The Faceplants ended their tour on Sept. 1 and headed home to relish in the accomplishment of their first national ride. The hard work may seem to be over, but they will continue working on music videos for the rest of their album. They’re already planning on creating new music, which is sure to attract more fans. If you grow to love them, you have the possibility of seeing them live one day, as they hope to return to Montreal in the next year.
A ceiling bustling with huge plastic balloons, red and blue lights diving across the walls and the shining faces of shuffling limbs: it’s a Friday night at the Fairmount Theatre and Beat Market has just taken the stage.
Montreal-based DJ duo Beat Market, formed of keyboardist Louis-Joseph Cliche and drummer Maxime Bellavance, swept their 100 audience members away during the release of their new EP, All Good. Unfortunately, there were some initial technical difficulties, and the opening act, The Fitness, was unable to play. Despite these factors, it was “all good” and the venue’s energy was never lacking.
The first song built slowly, a minimal pallet of sounds moving the crowd until the deep bass and decisive drumming kicked in, along with a colourful light show that made for a hyper-stimulating atmosphere.
Music and visuals go hand in hand and are destined to be intertwined, a technique that seems to be working for Beat Market. Beat Market’s Art Director and digital mastermind, Kitana, used to work for Moment Factory, a world-renowned Montreal-based studio. Their multimedia productions create completely unique universes that envelop the participant. So, it is easy to see why, along with those hypnotic beats, the visuals have the audience coming back for more.
Beat Market showcases more than your average electronic dance music. The duo had a retro synth, Daft Punk-inspired style that the audience was loving. Though somewhat repetitive, staying mostly in a steady 4/4 tempo the whole night, there were some wild bass drops and rhythmic switchbacks, making the two energetic performers engaging to watch.
With Bellavance on drums and Cliche on keyboard, and both on their laptops, Beat Market plays with a unique combination of digital and analog sounds, enhancing the retro tone of their music. Some highlights of the show were the unexpected appearances of Montreal singer and actress AIZA, and rapper KNLO of the Montreal rap group Alaclair, who took the stage on consecutive tracks to lay down some sweet vocals.
Ultimately, for Cliche and Bellavance, it was this fusion of artists, audience and mediums that inspired the EP, and the meaning behind the title, All Good. Above all, the playful duo suggests that people go out and “live life in a funky way”.
Fans can support Beat Market by subscribing to their YouTube and Spotify accounts, or by purchasing their EP All Good on Bandcamp or Spotify.
Troye Sivan’s second opus,Bloom, retains some of the heartfelt, boyish charm of Blue Neighbourhood that won over fans back in 2015. Songs like ‘“The Good Side” or “Postcard” are tinged with nostalgia, juxtaposed over a quiet piano melody or an acoustic guitar strum. The album’s real strength, however, resides in the more mature numbers on the tracklist. “Bloom” and “Lucky Strike”, amongst others, are drenched in upbeat, bass-driven synthpop influences, paired with daring and sensual lyrics, making for an addicting and catchy result. Nonetheless, the variety both in sound and in writing doesn’t change the fact that the album offers an incredible amount of honesty in its lyrics through each song. Bloom is a collection of love stories—some that work out, some that don’t—but most of all, Bloom is an apparent, impeccable product of Troye Sivan’s growth, both as a man and as an artist.
