METZ + Crabe + Fist City @ Salle Little Burgundy

Photo: Stacy Lee

Punk Rock Meets Church Basement

There is nothing more fitting than ending a five-day music festival in a stale and sweaty church basement with ear-crunching punk-rock. Proving that sleep is truly for the weak, the Montreal punk and hardcore crowds stood shoulder to shoulder, jean jacket to jean jacket in anticipation for POP Montreal's final oo-rah at Salle Little Burgundy. 

First on the bill were Lethbridge, Alberta's Fist City. Despite being shy and humble in their stage presence (not to mention struggling through some serious technical difficulties with the monitors), Fist City managed to do exactly what they were meant to do: get the crowd moving. Boasting a sound that lands somewhere between surf-punk and indie-pop, head-bobs quickly turned into full-fledged dancing and the night had begun. 

Local punk/math-rock duo Crabe took the stage next in what was a confusing, sloppy, sometimes-enjoyable hour of unpolished debauchery. Combining elements of punk-rock, math-rock with moments of metal, Crabe seemed to alienate some members of the crowd, as their set list contained a plethora of stuttering time signatures and abrupt genre shifts. Although some songs were truly enjoyable, being different doesn't always work out when you're trying to combine too many elements of music into one package. 

With little air left to breathe, Toronto loud-rock trio METZ walked onto the stage ready to destroy what was left of anyone's hearing. Without hesitation, the mosh-pit opened up and anyone caught standing soon became a victim of the bearded vortex. Thrashing around as if the show was their last, the trio powered through their entire catalogue showing no signs of fatigue even as the night came to a close. As people crawled out of the crowd wearing blood, sweat and smiles, METZ whole-heartedly thanked the audience and staff at POP Montreal for what was the perfect ending to arguably the best festival in Canada. 

-- Michael Langiewicz, CJLO Magazine contributor and volunteer extraordinaire