Concert Reviews

Photo Credit: ZaneBurkoMedia

The city towered beneath the cold weather in the midst of May–an unfortunate but regular occurrence during the Montreal spring. Yet, splatters of an unspoken but mandatory tartan, red and blue painted the streets, brightening the ordinarily bleak sidewalk of rue Sainte-Catherine in preparation for UK singer-songwriter and producer PinkPantheress. Shivering hands gripped onto umbrellas in line, awaiting the OK to be welcomed into the contrasting heat of the Theatre L’Olympia and to rush to secure their barricade spots. 

“It’s okay to take a minute, if you need one,” Montreal’s RnB popstar Magi Merlin tells us, “this is a reminder for life”, but a minute is not what at all what Magi (pronounced Mahd-j-eye) is taking. The single Spicekick came out on April 1st (not a joke), officially announcing her second album, POWER HOUSE, to be released this July.

As a result of my tardy bedroom clock, my arrival at the beloved Casa Del Popolo was an embarrassing fifteen minutes late. My gloveless hands froze in the cold, and my friends stood peeved at my lack of punctuality. Walking past the hurdle of smokers outside the entrance, I slid through Casa’s gorgeous exterior bar and into the intimate performance space. It was Sunday, February 1st, the evening of the Friends of Crumper benefit concert. 

    As per the title of this piece, this show was very much long-awaited for me. Anyone who knows me knows I am quite the Palomine superfan, but I’ve also been a huge fan of Steeple for at least a year now.

Anyone vaguely familiar with Earl Sweatshirt’s discography might not be sold on the idea of seeing him live. Although he’s one of modern rap’s greatest writers, his work has long dealt with heavy, sombre subject matter. In his earlier projects, the then-teenage prodigy laid bare his struggles with anxiety and the psychic toll of growing up in the public eye, while later works offered more layered explorations of depression, loss, and grief.

As it snowed with ferocity on the streets of Montreal, the three-piece outfit (not dissimilar from what they wore), Sharp Pins, rocked La Sotterenea –  basement venue of La Sala Rossa – in style. Hailing from Chicago, a city at the epicentre of the fast-evolving and emerging indie-rock sound and scene, they brought with them not only a zest, spunk and flair for theatrics, but also a particular analogue flavour hard to come by in our present hyper-digitized hellscape.

When my partner and I walked into the dimly lit, crowded and buzzing showroom of Casa del Popolo, coming in from a deep cold on a busy Boulevard St Laurent, I knew tonight was going to be lovely.