Pitchfork Readers Rejoice: Benjamin Booker and Kenny Segal Live in Montreal

Living in Montreal as a second-year university student, I am only exposed to very specific demographics: students, aged 19-24, almost all broke and opinionated. These are the people that make up my circles, and the circles of my friends and their friends, the only demographics I really have any reason to interact with. That’s why, when walking into Bar L’Escogriffe last Saturday, I felt transported into another world, a world far removed from my own. Filling the St. Denis nook were millennials from bar to wall, all toting Doc Martens and second-hand Carhartt vests. The smell of beard oil and sandalwood filled every corner of the room, broken up only by hints of IPAs and old leather. These are the Pitchfork warriors, leftover harbingers of the Blog Era, and they populated L’Esco last Saturday for two reasons and two reasons only: Benjamin Booker and Kenny Segal. 

Though Booker and Segal both tote the same knitted toque-wearing audience, their similarities stop there. Sonically, Segal and Booker hail from wildly diverse soundscapes; Booker is a new-age rockstar through and through, citing T. Rex and Blind Willie Nelson as the biggest influences to his bluesy garage rock sound. Segal resides on the other end of the musical spectrum, known in hip-hop circles for his jazz-fueled instrumentals over which emcees like billy woods and E.L.U.C.I.D. have made names for themselves. While it is one of my all-time favourite things when musicians with wildly different sounds meld together to create one coherent piece, I couldn't help but feel a little worried about this collaboration. Not that either of these artists wouldn't work well together, or that they’re untalented in any way whatsoever, I just have a hard time getting behind the whole rap-rock idea. The subgenre historically dances a very fine line between corny and cool, and leans to the former in 9/10 cases. Thankfully, after only the first song, it's blatantly obvious that calling Booker and Segals collaboration rap-rock would be a glaring misread of the entire sonic situation. Segal’s jazzy, boom-bap-esque beats nestle perfectly below Booker's aching, shoegazy guitar, fashioning a sound so distinct that to align it with any pre-existing genre should be considered a crime. The sound pulsing from Segals kicks is eerily familiar, like a dark home during a summer night, and it fills any room it comes near, pulling Booker’s dreary, atmospheric songwriting with it like some sort of moody, RnB-powered black hole. Moments of the duo's music feel entirely untouchable by outside forces, hidden behind a sample-infused veil, while others open up manically, practically begging to be heard and sung and danced to. 

This disjointed sound translates beautifully to the stage. After a 30-minute opening consisting of Segal mixing a handful of his iconic beats for us live, Booker joined him on stage for an hour-long cathartic release. It’s a marvel of modern music to see Segal and Booker perform together, the live dissonance between each artist's respective background meshing beautifully into a boom-bap / proto-rock hybrid. While Segal mans a table of hardware like some sort of hipster mad scientist, shifting sporadically from drum loops to sample pads, Booker stands tall and calm, like a shining beacon of garage punk greatness. The sound that radiates from Booker as he plays feels like a guitar dancing in an empty room, the perfect “close your eyes and let it take you” music. Dreary seems like the wrong word to describe it, as it has more life than that word allows, but an undeniable ache is present in every note of the music. In moments I even felt compelled to grab onto the bar behind me, so as to not get swept away by Booker's guitar into some melancholic oblivion. 

I find I always have something to say about a specific part of a performance, a certain song or moment that stood out to me. However, I think to limit the idea of this concert to one single moment, to describe a 3-minute clip in relation to the entire hour, would be frankly dismissive. The music, much like Booker and Segal, operates as a whole, working not as one thing or another but as a mass of drifting, reverb-soaked sonic beauty, pulling listeners effortlessly from whatever dimly lit bar they once inhabited into a shoegaze void of Booker and Segal’s creation. 

You can listen to Benjamin Booker’s album Lower here, and Kenny Segal’s newest collaboration with K-The-I??? here. 

Sam Kitch is the magazine editor for CJLO. He is also the host of I Think You Might Like This, a concept-heavy hip-hop showcase on air every Tuesday at 2 pm