Holy Fuck / Indian Jewelry / Bad Tits @ The Little Burgundy Pop Loft (Pop Montreal)

After finishing my radio show, I hopped into my car with Acetate Gratified host Lachlan F and we headed down to the venue.  It must be said that this place (for the uninitiated) is not easy to find if you rely on Google Maps.  We parked somewhere close to the bottom of the mountain on the west side of Parc Avenue and it turned out we were a few kilometres off base.  Go ahead and search for 6600 rue Hutchison and you will be pinned on someone's doorstep near the McGill ghetto.

After some guidance by friend and CJLO alt-music director/guru/svengali Omar Goodness, we made our way to the venue just about 5 minutes into the Bad Tits performance.

For those not in the know, Bad Tits is a two-piece band made of Sebastien Grainger (Death From Above 1979) and Josh Reichmann (Tangiers).  Without time for in depth research, my mind projected a DFA1979 clone perhaps with more of an electronic bent.  For better or worse, I was a little off in my expectation and was exposed to a synth and effect laden set of tunes that were awkward and yet danceable.  It was like Chromeo doing '70s David Bowie covers while tripping on 'shrooms AND on a cocaine binge.  Grainger had a minimalist drum kit with a drum machine mounted where the rack tom should normally go.  Reichmann played synth keys and a guitar through said synthesizer.  Their microphones were creepily drenched in octave and reverb effects as they sang like broken supercomputers.  It was an interesting opening to a late night that was just beginning.

The next band on the bill was Indian Jewelry, who are a four-piece band from Houston, Texas.  Their performance was unlike anything I had heard ever before; a discordant blend of tripped out bass, guitar, vocals and a buffet table's worth of effects processors.  They were backlit by a strobe light for the entire duration of their  45 minute set.  The goal of their performance seems to be to shake you loose and hypnotize you all at once, with very sharp arrangements of sounds that don't seem to fit together.  The two main songwriters and vocalists Erika Thrasher and Tex Kerschen alternated who lead their crazy circus from song to song, with folks on stage switching instruments multiple times as the song required.   If Joy Division followed Jim Morrison around the desert during a peyote spirit walk, they would end up arriving at the altar of Indian Jewelry.

After the performance finished, the two females in the band were at the merchandise table, and I quickly bought both of their available CDs, raving to them about how I had never heard anything like them.  Instantly I became a fan of their cacophony and for the more adventurous of you out there, I would suggest that you would quickly become the same.

After a couple of the venue's famous tacos and a few moments of reflection, we were treated to the main course of the night, Holy Fuck.  I've been a fan of this band ever since stumbling upon them a few years back and I was already excited about this show.  Holy Fuck delivered an excellent, awesomely-lit, and compelling performance that grabbed the crowd from the first swells of bass, drums, and electronic gadgets emanating from the speakers.  The bass-splosion that started the show, felt like lying underneath a jet engine.

Breaking me of fully being immersed in the performance was the pushy arrival of a dude in front of me in the crowd who I have no doubt was "on something".  At the first kick in of the whole band into one of their uptempo offerings, this kid's dancing became his whole body bouncing off of me.  His head came way too close to knocking out teeth, so I resolved myself to migrate to another position…besides that, it smelled like he hadn't taken off his Affliction brand MMA T-shirt in a few days.

Back into the performance, the four members of Holy Fuck kept the whole crowd bouncing through their 60-plus minute set.  What's really amazing about the performance is the band's ability to groove their bodies along with the beat.  Picture if you will, four men bent down staring at their equipment, but never forgetting to keep their bodies in motion and allow the beat to carry them.  It's a perfect synergy of mastering your music and letting the music rule over you and the crowd ate it up and scraped the plate afterwards.  Even the guy controlling the lights in the back was bouncing at his post as the bright LEDs and strobes added to the experience.

Overall, for a night of music, it's difficult to find a better booked than this when you think of musical thematics.  We were treated to an ever growing ball of sonic trickery that peeled layer after layer until it was fully exposed for the sweaty and dirty dance party that it became in the end.