Ty Segall played the Cabaret du Mile End on February 5th, touring with the release of three full-length records in 2012. Needless to say, we were expecting a big show, as he has been drawing a lot of attention. With recent studio album Twins, released back in October, he is no doubt starting to build an empire with his prolific contributions to the psychedelic pop-punk genre, all being heavily tainted with west coast surf nostalgia. Through the massive touring in the past year, he has only continued to stray away from the once loose grunge appeal he emanated in his earlier albums, and has broken into somewhat larger musical sphere and audience—enough to fill this Montreal venue on a Tuesday.
We waited in line outside the venue for half an hour to get into the then over-capacity venue; a lineup reminiscent of the Juicy J show earlier that year, only to then wait in a coat check lineup of equal length. Ex-Cult and K-Holes were warming the crowd up for the long-anticipated headliner.
Although we missed Ex-Cult while we were in the line, we were greeted by a lot of smokers outside who left during their set. There seemed to be a general disappointment at their sound, being described by one apathetic smoker as "soulless". She intimidated me, so I took her word for it.
Once inside, K-Holes had just began. K-Holes are a post punk band whose sound remains pretty true to their New York based punk influences. The best part being the saxophones' crunchy riffs that created an ambiance that was seemingly spaghetti western infused. Oh yeah, and the ‘80s-super-blow-dried hair, paying respect to their elders through their post punk nostalgia.
When Ty Segall came on, the crowd compressed to the front of the stage and so many off-putting camera flashes appeared. This obviously marked a departure from his humble grunge roots, to the mainstream celebrity-ism. Segall's set list was a visceral one to say the least, as he picked up the most heavy-hitting rock songs seeming to play to the crowd. The front of the stage was packed with super eager moshers who danced in anticipation more often than to the music. Although this was to be expected, as the stage was heavily guarded by two bouncers who periodically threw the straggling over-confident person who wandered onto the stage to take pictures or reoccurring crowd surfers.
A haunting harmony between Ty and the bassist made the group hypnotically pause in the moment of psychedelia; "Open our hands, up on the sand, we are the children still". This broke out into a heavy riff only to bring the energy in the room to a new plateau. The energy of the crowd was the driving force of the concert. Ty Segall in the end proving to have an undeniable relationship with his audience, where his music is the fuel for the relentless energy of his live show.