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Caribou Hypnotizes the City's Least Dance-Friendly Venue

Dan Snaith of Dundas, Ontario has been consistently pumping out ever-changing electronic sounds for over twenty years. Under the name Manitoba, he started out making shifty, sample-heavy dance music in the vein of Four Tet’s early work. After a lawsuit in 2005 (from one Richard “Handsome Dick” Manitoba), he took up the pseudonym Caribou and moved towards the indie dance sound he’s now known for. 

His latest record Honey keeps up with the times, turning his sound towards glitzy, almost hyper-pop adjacent vocal bits and fast-paced drumbeats. It marks another step on his way to being a bigger, cleaner artist, a path he has been on since his 2010 album Swim won him all kinds of awards with its sweet minimal dance pop. 

The show was booked for the Olympia Theatre, and with a lineup out the door, I was prepared to share a room with over a thousand people. Inside it was dark and crowded. Irish garage artist Yunè Pinku was opening on stage in front of heavily psychedelic visuals of dark forests full of twisting tree trunks. It was just her alone up there working a sampler and keyboard. The thumping drum lines she sang over brought a flow to her set, unlike most openers I’ve seen. Her set was astonishingly short as well, hardly giving everybody enough time to show up and start dancing. Only the very front rows had started to move their bodies, I hoped there’d be more dancing to come.

The demographic at the show was one of the most varied I’d ever seen. The people who’d followed Dan’s music since the early days are parents now, and many families with kids lined the crowd’s contour. There were also several groups of younger folks, much more down to dance, spread out evenly across the large, terraced floor. The Olympia is a venue that is hostile to dancing, as most of the floor consists of large stairs downwards to the stage. The chance of tripping and creating a human domino catastrophe was higher than anywhere else in the city. My hopes for a boogie night were shrinking. 

The main act stepped out and I was positively surprised to see more than one person. Caribou tours with a band providing live electric drums, bass and guitar over Dan’s synth pads and vocals. The light shows onstage made me feel like a kid in a candy store. The constant minimal patterns of shapes and contrasting colours complemented the more stripped-back sounds of Caribou’s music. The screen was a constant stream of overlapping, hypnotizing patterns with colliding movements that would speed up and slow down. The band stood as silhouettes in front of it all and looked ethereal when blasts of colour would light up the whole stage from behind. 

Most of the songs they played were off the newest album and older cuts only threw back as far as the 2010 Swim album. To me, this further marks Swim as the turning point in their career towards the simple. I am personally a much bigger fan of their more mind-bending work pre-2007 and was left a little disappointed by the setlist because of that. Shows aren’t tailored for me, however, and this kind of music was still a joy I could shut my mind off to and let the rhythm invade. 

The rhythm could only do so much given the unfortunate venue, and the dancing continued to be reserved for people at the front of the crowd, separated from me by several stairs and whole conglomerates of folks of all kinds. I stood near the center back, with my arms crossed and my neck bouncing to the beat.

They followed the electronic artist trend of playing in 3-5 song bursts with pauses in between. In these pauses they’d let the overhead lights shine on the band, finally showing us their faces. Dan himself kept shaking his hands together as if to say thank you to the crowd. His fortunate smile was straight out of nowhere Ontario, as I’d hoped for. There was some genuine connection to be felt that this artist was himself Canadian and the cheering made that clear.

It felt like no time at all had passed when the lights came on for the last time and he said he had one more song for us. Both the opener and main act delivered bizarrely short performances. In this way, the show did feel a little tailored to me, a lesser fan of this new era of Caribou. Despite my longing for the old days that I’ll never really know, it's enlightening to see the passion of an Ontarian come to such heights, and Dan Snaith is clearly a very grateful man who may never lose the spark to keep redefining his sound.

 

Gesaffelstein and the Tragedy of the Pop Producer’s Solo Album

It should go without saying at this point that 2024 has been a wild year for music. We’ve seen artists like Chappell Roan go from sleeper hitmaker to megastar almost overnight. We’ve seen albums like BRAT absolutely dominate pop culture to the point where its aesthetic has been used in American political campaigns (to varying levels of success). We’ve seen diss tracks like “Not Like Us” top the charts for record amounts of time with lyrics focused almost entirely on allegations that I probably shouldn’t discuss in my first-ever article. 2024 has seen just an immense amount of crazy good music. 

But unfortunately, not every 10/10 album gets their moment in the spotlight. I’ve made peace with the idea that not everyone thinks that my opinion on music is completely objective, and that I can’t just summon a Grammy into existence for all my favorite artists. Even so, I still can’t help but be incredibly dismayed at the reception (or lack thereof) of the new Gesaffelstein album, GAMMA

You may be thinking that you’ve never heard of Gesaffelstein and, by extension, his music. Right off the bat, you’re probably wrong. While he is an incredibly accomplished artist, he is mostly known for his work as a producer for others rather than his own solo work. In fact, the main reason I bothered to listen to BRAT when it came out is because Gesaffelstein, aka Mike Levy of Lyon, France, produced two tracks on that album (“B2b” and “I Might Say Something Stupid”). He’s also worked with Kanye West on his album Yeezus, credited as a producer on the tracks “Black Skinhead” and “Send It Up”. However, his biggest collaboration was with The Weeknd, with whom he worked on the songs “Hurt You” and “I Was Never There” off the album My Dear Melancholy in 2018. Following the release of Melancholy, The Weeknd would once again lend his vocals for Gesaffelstein’s album Hyperion with a mildly homophobic feature on the song “Lost in the Fire” (Gesaffelstein would later make up for this by producing the song “J CHRIST” by Lil Nas X, though). 

These songs have all gained massive success, with the collaborations with The Weeknd alone netting around 2.5 billion streams on Spotify. It’s no secret that Gesaffelstein has a crazy resume, having worked with producers like Mike Dean and Daft Punk on top of the star-studded list of vocal collaborators. But despite all of that, his new album GAMMA is probably his worst-performing project sitting around 7.5 million total streams on Spotify. Sure, it was only released this past March, but I’ve seen basically zero conversations about this album outside of Gesaffelstein’s own fanbase. Despite being a producer with songs like “B2b” and “I Was Never There” under his belt, there’s a remarkable lack of fanfare or anything for this album. So, what gives? Why isn’t GAMMA reaching anywhere close to the same reception as his previous work? 

While GAMMA is a fantastic album, there isn’t really a whole lot for fans of his more mainstream hits to latch onto. It’s very much the antithesis of Gesaffelstein’s previous album Hyperion. Hyperion is… an okay album. It was released the year following Gesaffelstein’s work on My Dear Melancholy, and very much follows the same production style. It’s very poppy, and while it does have some elements from Gesaffelstein’s electronic background, it definitely feels like he’s trying to capitalize on his pop production chops. It’s not bad, but it’s a major step down from his early EPs and his debut album Aleph which plunge the listener into dystopian industrial techno fever dreams that make you wonder if Hyperion was even made by the same guy. That said, in terms of streaming numbers, Hyperion absolutely dwarfs all of Gesaffelstein’s other projects with upwards of 950 million streams on Spotify. While most of those streams are from Lost in the Fire, it’s the only Gesaffelstein album to get super mainstream success and has many of his more recognizable songs from a mainstream standpoint. GAMMA, on the other hand, is a near-total opposite of Hyperion.

I suppose after about five entire paragraphs I should probably actually talk about the album that inspired me to write this article in the first place. While Hyperion is a very digestible, marketable project with a whole slew of songs that fit neatly into any popular dance/pop Spotify playlist, GAMMA is not. GAMMA is an eerie, industrial techno/EBM/New Wave fusion with heavy inspiration from bands like Depeche Mode and Kraftwerk, combined with Gesaffelstein’s signature hard-hitting production found in his earlier projects like Aleph and Conspiracy. It has songs like “Hard Dreams” and “Your Share of the Night”, which feature this distorted, grimy, mechanical synthpop style combined with a chilling vocal performance from the only collaborator on this album, Yan Wagner. There are about 6 of these new-wave songs on this 11-track album, with my favorite being “The Urge”. It’s got this quick, addictive chugging rhythm and borrows a lot of influence (and a sample or two) from Kraftwerk’s Trans-Europe Express. “The Urge” also has this super sudden beat switch into a much slower, jazzier segment that kinda shows up out of nowhere but absolutely blew my mind when I heard it for the first time. Overall, this half of the album is spectacular. The lyrics aren’t much to write home about, being rather repetitive and vague, but Wagner’s slick, oily vocal performance makes up for it tenfold. Even with this spectacular yet bizarre collection of synthpop songs though, I feel like GAMMA’s instrumental tracks are really what make this album shine. 

The instrumental tracks on GAMMA, while most likely meant to be secondary to the new-wave elements, are probably some of my favorite songs to release this year. They’re generally placed throughout the album between the synthpop tracks but aren’t incredibly alienating and pack a crazy punch if you’re looking for something a little less Depeche-Modey. These tracks play 100% into Gesaffelstein’s industrial techno roots, with my personal favorites “Psycho” and “Hysteria” having some of the best production on this album. “Psycho” is definitely the weirdest track on this album- it’s a distorted two-minute-long drum solo. Even with limited time and instrument selection, however, Gesaffelstein makes it work. “Psycho” proves that Gesaffelstein is a master at building intensity and rhythm without committing the worst musical sin: being boring. The distorted drums bounce from one ear to the other, slowly climbing over each other and building into this intense, marching rhythm serving as one of GAMMA’s highest points. And yet, Gesaffelstein manages to outdo “Psycho” with probably my favorite track on the entire album.

“Hysteria” is an overdriven, thrashy, and warped techno workout that feels like a shot of adrenaline straight to the jugular. It’s such a crazy, yet simple track with distorted, repeating synth patterns and strangely meticulous drum fills throughout. The fact that this track is only two minutes long and packs this much of a punch is a testament to how effective GAMMA is as an album. Despite the short runtime of about 27 minutes, despite the lack of super complex and groundbreaking sounds from Aleph or star power from Hyperion, GAMMA is an incredibly powerful record and shows that Gesaffelstein doesn’t need to send you to a different dimension and back to get you moving. 

The beauty of GAMMA is that Gesaffelstein is finally breaking out of his pop-producer rut of the past few years. After the release of Hyperion, Gesaffelstein released the EP Novo Sonic System which is incredibly similar to the instrumental tracks on GAMMA and bears many similarities to his work shortly after the release of Aleph back in 2013. It is my personal theory (and I cannot stress enough that this is purely a THEORY) that Gesaffelstein always wanted to continue his work in techno, but the success of his collaborations with The Weeknd may have caused him to sideline this aspect of his career in favor of the more lucrative option. This is why some songs Novo Sonic System, despite being released after Gesaffelstein’s apparent transition to a pop producer, sound very similar to his “Hate or Glory” remix from 2014. I think it’s also worth noting that none of the tracks from Hyperion were played (outside of brief snippets) on Gesaffelstein’s current Enter the Gamma tour while still including two tracks from Novo Sonic System

After years of either being the guy who did three songs with The Weeknd, the guy who worked on “B2b”, or the guy who sometimes has his music slowed and reverberated for TikTok edits, Gesaffelstein is making the music he wants to make and clearly has so much passion for it. But it just doesn’t have as much of the superstar backing as Hyperion or the novel eeriness of Aleph. It’s a passion project, but sometimes passion isn’t enough to make a hit. I do hope that someday, either by the grace of the TikTok or YouTube algorithm or some other abstract and mythical force, that this album gets some more ears on it. It’s a fantastic piece of work and despite its flaws, is nothing short of my favorite Gesaffelstein album and my favorite album of 2024.

JPEGMAFIA reminds MTELUS why he's the greatest doing it

I’m pretty sure it's physically impossible for JPEGMAFIA ever to disappoint me. Currently riding a monumental wave of productivity, the New York rapper has just wrapped up the North American tour for his 3rd album released this decade, I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU. Lucky for us, Peggy’s final stop was here in Montreal, and even with my deep-rooted distaste for MTELUS, it was a show I will brag about for years to come.

One could have guessed what kind of show this would be from a mile away, just from the crowd alone. Jam-packed into the pit was an army of Danny-Brown-merch-toting, loud-speaking, sweat-smelling underground hip-hop fans. I’ve said this before, but once you start going to shows that fall under this specific sub-genre you start to recognize the regulars. What stood out to me about this audience, however, was its pretty remarkable size. While it's fantastic to see Peggy getting the praise and mainstream approval he so obviously deserves, it worried me a little. This is music meant to be enjoyed in a loud, intimate venue, and I wasn’t too sure about how it would land in a crowded, 2300 max-cap theatre. I had little time to consider though, as the second the idea formed in my brain the lights dimmed, and the local opening DJ hit the stage. 

That is if he can even call himself a DJ. Lottery Lucas, with posse in tow, spent 25 minutes playing the first minute and a half of every song on a 2-year-old Rap Caviar bootleg playlist. Waiting until the crowd lost interest in the track entirely before moving on, he jumped from song to song without a single transition, unless you count him yelling “Open that shit up!” 17 times. If you have to force a pit that hard, especially in a crowd known for their drive to mosh to any song possible, maybe DJ’ing is not for you. Thankfully, the opening set came and went, and we were left standing sweaty and clustered for another 20 minutes. 

After drying off sufficiently, the house lights dimmed, and the sound of a distorted lead guitar blared through the speakers. It was then that JPEGMAFIA took to the stage, toting head-to-toe leather and a grin. Peggy has never been one for crowd work, or really much on stage speaking at all, and this show was no exception. As soon as he announced his name, we were thrown into “Jesus Forgive Me, I Am A Thot”, and the rest of the night was a complete blur. Peggy’s performance skills are exceptional, especially for someone clad entirely in leather. He exudes raw energy, going bar for bar not only on his own verses, but on his song's features as well. It felt as if he was cleansing himself through his music, pushing raps out as fluidly as one would push air out of their lungs. The audience matched this energy to a tee, screaming every word back at him with full force. This back and forth shifted the concert into a veritable echo chamber, peaking at a point of genuine arson (I’m serious), and that’s exactly what I came for. Filtering through his discography, from his trademark cover of Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe” to his Brazilian-funk collab with Dj RaMeMe's “it’s dark in here and hell is hot”, Peggy covered the entire stage with his performance (again, in all leather!) By the time the last thumping bassline faded out, and the house lights shifted back on, I was ready to get the hell out of MTELUS. While the venue is a little too big to have a proper JPEGMAFIA experience, I have yet to meet a person who regretted their ticket, and that’s really all you can ask for. 

Listen to JPEGMAFIA’s newest release, I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU, here, and please please vet your DJ’s. 

 

Sam Kitch is the magazine editor at CJLO 1690AM. He is also the host of I Think You Might Like This, a hip-hop show airing Tuesdays at 2:00 PM.

Body Meat and Anysia Kym: Mind-Altering Chops at L'Esco

Weekday shows have always irked me a little; standing in a crowd at 9 pm, with that lingering dread of class the next morning sitting idly in the back of my mind. It takes a special kind of music to cut through that sadness, and thankfully L’Escogriffe Bar had exactly that this past Tuesday night. 

What originally sucked me out of my final paper procrastination den and onto the cold windy landscape of Rue St Denis was Brooklyn producer turned musical multi-hyphenate Anysia Kym. I’ve been using Kym’s newest album, Truest, to drown out my roommates all semester, and as soon as I saw her name on a bill I jumped to get tickets. To my luck, she happened to be opening for Philadelphia weirdo Body Meat, an artist whose raw musicality is enough to put most of his peers to shame (think of an electronic Mk.Gee for millennials, in the best way possible). This double feature of sonic forward thinkers had me bouncing around L’Esco like an idiot, but before I was allowed to get too excited I was subjected to something potentially horrible: a local opener. 

Thankfully, local electronic trio Gladhanding kicked total ass. With experimental pop being as widespread and mainstream as it’s ever been, it feels (to me) as though the genre is a little oversaturated; Gladhanding fights tooth and nail to not fall victim to this, as every sound jammed through the amps last Tuesday felt fresh. While this didn’t always make for the most enjoyable music, the trio still seemed to get their message across: they are doing what they want, and having a delightful time doing it. After my ears calibrated a little more to the blaring synth lines and electronically-possessed vocals, I found myself enjoying what Gladhanding had to offer. As I’ve always said, is it really good music if you don’t have to work to enjoy it a little?

After a quick intermission spent ogling at the characteristically overpriced merch, Anysia Kym took the stage in all her DIY glory. Kym’s self-introduction was fairly tentative, and it's easy to see why; this was the first show on Kym’s first-ever opening tour, and she is still pretty fresh off the release of her first album to predominantly feature her own voice. Still, with nothing but an SP-555 and a MacBook in hand, the Brooklyn DJ powered through, and did so with relative ease. All of Kym’s on-stage work features her own live beat creation, shaping samples on her 555 in real-time. This gave the whole performance a really personal feel, as each song felt distinctly of that moment, filled with short bursts of improvisational chops. Kym’s sound feels impossibly physical, each loop feeling as tactile as pressing a button yourself. Her vocals contrast this beautifully, floating completely untethered over each track as if both components just happened to end up in the room together, perfectly synchronized. It feels like the music you would hear in a recurring dream, that fragments into a million disjointed pieces upon waking up. It’s no wonder Body Meat claims she’s the future of music.

Considering the music Body Meat displayed to L’Esco not 10 minutes later, that statement is a huge compliment. The second Chris Taylor took the stage the room filled with tiny-beanie-toting millennial hipsters, like they sprung from the floorboards. As much as I try to distance myself from this demographic, their music tastes seem to align a worrying amount with mine; Body Flesh was no different. What followed was 45 minutes of a variable music cluster bomb, jumping from glitchy experimental pop cuts to borderline nu-metal tracks with R&B melodies. To say Taylor’s music is over-produced would be a rude understatement, but every component jammed into his sound still comes together perfectly, like the weirdest ever sonic puzzle. This is all complimented by Body Meat’s animated, electronic voice, pushed through filter after filter but somehow maintaining a beautiful raw character. It’s not hard to draw comparisons between Taylor’s voice and someone like Bladee’s (take that as you will), both possessing an almost rugged charm in their vocal deliveries. Would I say that Body Meat is a good singer? Classically, no. Does that mean that someone like Jessica Pratt would sound better on any of his cuts? Also no. The rawness of Taylor’s voice cuts through the heavy instrumentals like butter, and makes for a captivatingly personal performance.

All in all, L’Esco hosted exactly what I had expected for this night: a display of what feels like the future of music. Glitchy, funky, and a little all over the place, I was the furthest from disappointed one can be. Check out Body Meat’s newest release Starchris here, and Anysia Kym’s latest work Truest here.

Sam Kitch is the magazine editor at CJLO 1690AM. He is also the host of I Think You Might Like This, a hip-hop show airing Tuesdays at 2:00 PM.

 

Chaos and Connection: Osamason’s Wish You Were Here Tour Brings Rage Rap to Life

Osamason’s Wish You Were Here tour, featuring 1oneam, exemplifies the raw energy and intense atmosphere of the underground rap scene. Hailing from Goose Creek, South Carolina, Osamason launched his music career on SoundCloud in 2020. It was his breakout single, “CTS-V” released in 2023, that solidified him as one of the most prominent figures in the underground. His music has been described as maximalist rage rap—a genre characterized by heavy 808s, unrelenting intensity, and unfiltered aggression. 

The show brought the essence of rage rap to life. From the very beginning, DJ Rennesy set the tone with a high-energy set that electrified the crowd. The consistent calls of “Open that shit up!” from DJ Rennessy, 1oneam, and Osamason created an atmosphere of unrestrained chaos, fueling the audience's excitement. Frenzied mosh pits erupted throughout the venue, embodying the rage and aggression that defines this style of music. 

Osamason was able to bridge the music with the audience's energy. The overwhelming basslines and pulsating lights mirrored the aggressive energy of his songs, immersing the audience completely in the experience. Every element of the performance: flashing lights, smoke machines, and verbal encouragement reinforced the visceral nature of the music, turning the atmosphere into something that felt perfectly aligned with the ethos of rage rap. These details were not just embellishments but tools that allowed the crowd to fully embody the chaos of the music. 

Osamason’s stage presence was another highlight. Unlike many artists in the underground scene who strive to maintain a stoic, mysterious image, he embraced an energetic, authentic approach that resonated with the crowd. His performance style was animated and intense. A standout moment came when a fan handed him a printed Quebec flag with his face on it, parading across the stage with it before losing his balance and falling over, a light-hearted moment that drew laughter from the crowd. 

By the time the set ended, it was clear that this wasn’t just a concert. It was a shared experience that embodied the rage, passion, and intensity of the underground rap scene. The seamless fusion of Osamason’s bold, bass-heavy music, the crowd's palpable energy, and the show's production created a really enjoyable experience. connecting people through chaos.

 

Tinashe’s Match My Freak World Tour Did Not Match My Freak

Tinashe’s world tour show at MTELUS did not live up to the level of freak I expected. The R&B legend, who’s been in the game for over a decade, gained more popularity with her album Quantum Baby riding the wave of Brat Summer. The show was well done and long, the dancers and Tinashe were very talented, but there was a lack of aesthetic continuance. Song transitions felt disjointed, as if there was a slew of creative directors who didn’t talk to each other. I was expecting a Sweat Tour type of experience, with Tinashe’s music gaining strong popularity in the Charli XCX Brat club crowd with her leading single “Nasty” a testament to needing a freaky hottie who can keep up, yet this did not carry through to her show.

The opener was ethereal American singer-songwriter Raveena. She was sweet and heartwarming and had fans in the audience, but I found she was not a good opener for Tinashe. Openers are meant to raise the audience's energy levels, to prepare them for the headliner, and their music should be compatible. Raveena’s soft jazz-influenced R&B did not do this. Her music feels very ‘floaty’, like you’re relaxing in a bed of the fluffiest pillows under the giant tree of ribbons and pearls she had on stage. When Tinashe eventually came on stage the change from cuddly cuteness to sexy and sweaty was drastic. Raveena would have done better at a smaller, more intimate venue where her fans are eager to drain their phone batteries using their flashlights during her multiple ballads.

As the crew was rolling out and screwing in the set ahead of Tinashe, a girl next to me said to her friend: ‘ok budget’. That sums it up pretty well. There were multiple giant screens at the back of the stage that showed ads for some perfume company partnered with Tinashe, and played videos throughout her set. The videos were cool, sometimes playing snippets from her music videos, sometimes acting like a backdrop, but I found them to be quite distracting, especially when the video was Tinashe covered in slime. Tinashe’s four dancers were impressive and hot, it was cool to see them just hanging out and goofing around on stage one minute, then perfectly falling into the choreography the next. My favorite part of the show was when the camera operator right at the barricade in front of the stage would video Tinashe and project it onto the screens, creating a giant Tinashe standing behind her. 

The level of interaction between Tinashe and the audience was interesting. She didn’t talk much between the songs, and there was no encore, but during the last two songs, ‘Broke Boys’ and ‘Nasty’, the cameras would turn towards the audience, projecting us onto the stage screens. After the applause died down Tinashe signed autographs for fans in the front row, which I wasn’t expecting to see after she barely greeted us during the show. I feel like when artists get big they detach themselves from their fans, for good reason, so it was nice to see that Tinashe didn’t seem to need to do that.

Earlier that evening I saw a headline about the show that Tinashe gets hot and intimate with one of her dancers, I was expecting, again, a Sweat Tour moment of Troye Sivan serenading and grinding on a dancer. The sexy moments between Tinashe and the dancer were hot but short, feeling more like a piece of choreography rather than part of the performance itself. Where is the freak we’re supposed to be matching? 

My problem with this concert is it felt like they were trying to do too many different things. Just before Tinashe came on stage there was an opening video, made just like the ‘Nasty’ music video of a post-apoctalypitc-desert-escape-superhuman-convict vibe, creating anticipation for a concept that would carry us through the show. That did not happen. The projected videos would change drastically between songs, and often didn’t make any sense, like, why was she covered in slime for two whole minutes? I wish there were more of a continued aesthetic throughout the show, it felt disjointed and almost awkward, the creative directors could’ve built a sexy superhero-type narrative, employing the multiple prop structures of security cameras to create an ‘evading the police plus I’m sexy and covered in dirt’ moment that reflected the vibe of the album and single covers. 

Tinashe is a really talented artist and singer, and she demonstrated that well, but I was missing the freak she touts in ‘Nasty’ like she wasn’t even matching her own freak. The dancing, the outfits, the makeup, all of this could’ve been freakier, but it felt like she was trying to cater to a more ‘basic’ crowd rather than the freaks. The audience was really diverse, Tinashe’s been making popular music for 10 years now, yet I wish I saw more alternative representation. In her discography you can hear her movement away from mainstream straight club hits to something more alternative and interesting, but it seems that hasn’t permeated through her fan base yet. There were a lot of normies, and the type of girl squads that force their way through a crowd when there is clearly no space for them. I wonder if Tinashe held some of her freak back because of these demographics. Someone did bring a small child who sat on their parent's shoulders and danced, sending hand hearts to Tinashe who would respond with smiles. It was really adorable, so it's understandable that Tinashe’s creative team didn’t want her leaning into the hedonistic sluttiness that exudes from her recent albums. But still, I’m left wondering where that freak that I’m supposed to be matching is.

Jasper Cobb is the host of The Castle, on air every Friday at 1 PM

Sweaty Flailing and Movie Recs from Chat Pile at Club Soda

Chat Pile is a band I have wanted to see for years. I have been following them since their second EP Remove Your Skin, Please blew up in the world of heavy music just in time for 17-year-old me to stumble upon it. When they played at Le Ritz last year, the date snuck up on me and I forgot to grab a ticket in time. When I saw that they were returning so soon, with a new album under their belts, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. 

Chat Pile’s music is self-described as noise-rock but commonly lumped in with the term sludge-metal by those who care to know what that means. To me, it’s always sounded like a fine blend of the anxious, toneless riffing of no-wave era Sonic Youth, the frantic paranoid shouting of The Jesus Lizard, and a begrudging influence from early nu-metal, Korn style. While crushing, their music depends on an emotional core within. A profound dissatisfaction with the way things are, and the many ways we are conditioned to ignore this feeling, are never shied away from in their songs. The band’s name itself is in reference to the ghost towns made of old mining cities in Oklahoma, turned toxic by large piles of carcinogenic mining waste known as chat. Their music aims to break through a layer of jaded distancing and show up close the amount of unnecessary suffering this world has created.

The show had two openers. The first of which was a fellow Oklahoma City band by the name of Traindodge. They were significantly older than the Chat Pile crew but impressed in every way with their ferocity. Traindodge sounds a lot like those 90s Steve Albini noise bands that Chat Pile themselves are no doubt influenced by. They have a small, loving cult following of Midwestern fans but have never really made it outside of their local scene. They did a great job of kicking the night off and left me wanting to check out more of their music in my own time, the sign of a great opener. 

After a short break outside, the second opener stepped onstage. A Los Angeles black metal band called Agriculture. I had never been to a black metal show before and didn’t necessarily plan on it either. It’s always been one of those genres that I don’t really get. For better or for worse, that may have changed upon seeing Agriculture. I can confidently say that they were one of the best openers I have ever seen, and certainly the loudest show of my life. Louder than Lightning Bolt, louder than Dinosaur Jr.’s wall of amps in a tiny room. I could feel damage being done to my inner ear before the drums even started. They started their set with a very long, tremolo-picked guitar drone that shrieked piercing vibrations through the room. I immediately put earplugs in for fear that I don’t have many more of these left in me. This was a good call, because as soon as the whole band started playing, the floor was shaking from the noise. I thought my skull might shatter.

 Their music always sounds like an intro or an outro. There was no room for dull moments. The guitarist was constantly doing that million-a-second tremolo shred, the drummer was always punching down on the kick drum at breakneck pace, and everything sounded like a constant, debilitating swell that never seemed to fall back to earth. The impossibly screamed vocals cut through the walls of distortion and tied everything together. The music was not a well of darkness, it had this soaring, Celtic influence that turned the powerful blasts into a journey to high places. The band really showed themselves to be something special during the few quieter moments as well. When the second guitarist began singing softly, and sentimentally, you could tell that this musical project meant the world to them, and that they take what they’re doing very seriously. This attitude stood in stark contrast to Chat Pile’s fed-up ramblings, which diversified the moods of the evening. There was much more to their show than noise and abrasive flailing, and I was even able to appreciate the more traditional shredding done by the lead guitarist, something that is usually the worst part of heavy music. 

Finally, Chat Pile appeared and began with Cool World’s opening track, “I Am Dog Now.” Between songs, the singer, who goes by the pseudonym Raygun Busch, listed things he knows about Montreal. He did this during every single pause, which eventually made me believe that he had some real love for the city and wasn’t just reciting some list he pulled up before the show. Most of his quips revolved around movies that were filmed here. He’d say, “Have you guys heard of this one?” and when nobody would reply he’d say in the exact same dejected tone as everything else “Hey man it’s your culture, not mine.”  After lamenting on the loss of the Expos and complementing the films of “Denis Vil-Knee-Oove,” he dropped the world’s most casual “free Palestine, by the way” once again in that same tone, like it should be obvious to us.

A lot of that obviousness comes through in their music. Raygun’s attitude is core to the band’s ethos. By the third track, “Masc”, the man was barefoot and shirtless in little gym shorts, squealing and dancing around the stage. His shouts were so guttural they were almost burps. His moves were slimy. He flailed about, crouched down and swung his arms in a little crawl, jumped and threw his bare feet in front of him and fell backwards on the floor leaving his gut wobbling through the sheer force of the music.

 When they played the track “Why”, he looked people dead in the eyes while screaming the song’s repeated moral question; why do people have to live outside? When the crowd shouted back with the lyrics ‘We have the resources, we have the means,’ I understood the power of a track like this. 

At one point, Raygun said the word Toronto under his breath during a rant I didn’t quite catch. A few audience members swiftly yelled “fuck Toronto,” which he eventually reciprocated with a reluctant but affirming “Uh sure fuck it yeah, fuck Toronto.” 

In the room’s center was a strange mosh. It had incredible breathing room and was taking up the amount of space that a mosh for a concert of this size should, but less than fifteen people were participating. All the thrashing about that usually comes naturally in a mosh pit had to be done manually, and after running in circles without any contact a few times, I realized that their music is a little too downtempo for this kind of thing anyway. The circle itself stayed around for the whole show, through the efforts of people much more dedicated than I. 

Before the encore, he made sure to mention the Canadian film Tommy Tricker and the Stamp Traveler, something he’d been bringing up a lot between songs and something the audience did not seem to understand whatsoever. This angry, half-naked man was consistently shocked at our inability to recognize what he was talking about. Our culture, not his. They ended the set with the track “New World”, a favorite off the new album, followed by “Rainbow Meat”, from their very first EP. I went home amazed by how such a great performance I’ve been waiting years to see could still be outshined by an incredible opener I’d never heard of. All 3 bands killed it at Club Soda.

 

Odie Leigh gets real at Bar Le Ritz PDB

This last Wednesday, November 6th, at the cozy Bar le Ritz, I had the opportunity to see the indie singer-songwriter, Odie Leigh. The folk singer was here to tour her new album Carrier Pigeon, though you may know her through Tiktok for her song “Crop Circles”. I was introduced to Odie Leigh during a time in my life where I was doing some serious soul-searching. I feel this encapsulates how her songwriting impacts her listeners. Her song “As Sure As I’m Speaking Now” particularly resonates with me. 

Bar Le Ritz PDB was the perfect venue for a show like this. The cozy wooden bar made it an intimate space for us all to focus on the music. Odie Leigh introduced this engaging performance by asking the audience to scream out their names, the back was quieter, so she asked again & we all passionately screamed our names again. This separated her from other folk singers I’ve seen live as she treats the audience like people, not just fans or numbers at a show. The passion in Odie Leigh’s voice when she was singing “Either/Way” was cathartic. She then made us sing for her the last chorus while she and her bassist vehemently played their instruments.

Odie Leigh has a way with words that is refreshing for this new revival of folk music in the mainstream. Her vulnerability in her lyrics engages her fans & creates a close bond between those who listen to her music. She has the same effect live. As we know, Donald Trump was declared the new president-elect on November 6th. Odie Leigh shared with us how much she loves Canada and how weird it is to be away from the US in a time like this. The audience went quiet out of respect for her and her bandmates who were discussing their mixed feelings about performing on that day. I felt this was a beautiful moment that made me feel connected to her music even more. 

She continued on by playing her song “A month or two” sharing anecdotes about the man she wrote this song about. She was making many jokes throughout the set that pleased the audience & me. Specifically, when her guitar amp was turned off and her bassist stepped in to help, she laughed and made us give her a round of applause. She finished off her set with her song “Take Back”, withstanding the same timbre and fierceness that she begins with. As I looked around, I saw members of the crowd with tears of joy, some of awe & some I saw crying as certain lyrics hit them. I believe this captures the wide variety of feelings an Odie Leigh show evokes in her audience.

Taina is the co-host of Whatever She Wants, on air Wednesdays 12pm - 1pm

 

Tiny Fest 2024 - A Review

It’s important for me to preface this article by saying that I am not a local. Hailing from a small town, I grew up with a remarkable lack of live music experiences. This is not due to a lacking of musical talent, or creative, driven people, but rather to a sad number of venues; if you didn’t want to go to the (vaguely shit) local pub, there really wasn’t much hope for live music at all. This is one thing that has charmed me about Montreal so much, and has helped develop my passion for local music into a semi-career - there is a venue, good or not, on what feels like every street corner. No matter where you turn, you can find enough of a stage to get at least one hopeful soul with a guitar in front of a crowd. Now, if only there was some sort of 2-day long event highlighting the best of these small venues, with kickass local music to match… 

 

TINYFEST: THURSDAY

Sadly, due to circumstances out of my control, my first experience with TinyFest was cut a little short - I was only able to catch the first of 4 sets that were booked for La Sotterenea that night. Thankfully, the one act I was able to catch absolutely rocked. Brother, a band of 4 hailing from Toronto, seem to me to represent a musical shift/conspiracy theory seen almost everywhere in the industry: the indie-to-emo pipeline. In a phenomenon that I think can be attributed to the ever-present trend cycle, 90s grunge and emo music are making a prominent comeback, and I’m quite excited about it. Brothers' music screams with nostalgic hopelessness and an all-mighty acceptance of life's inherent loneliness. The vocals, a distant drone behind crashing drums and distorted guitar, are playfully bleak - think of any modern, tongue-in-cheek emo and you’ll see what I mean. And while I wouldn’t label Brothers music groundbreaking, or unique past their consistent references to Mississauga, ON, it does serve as a solid display of what the genre has to offer. 

 

TINYFEST: FRIDAY

After a cut-short Thursday, I was looking forward even more to what Friday was set to offer; specifically, the closing Birds of Prrrey set at La Salla Rosa. While I planned on jumping from venue to venue, I found myself glued to La Salla Rosa all night; and I don't regret it! The night started off with a performance from the grungy, slow-rolling duo Clothilde, with the kind of music that's perfect to slowly nod along and hold a beer to (my signature move). The music Clothilde puts out into the world is as punky as it is fun. This paired beautifully with the next act, Toronto’s Kingdom of Birds, whose trashy, in-your-face post-punk jams finally got a bit of a mosh going. The trio pumped out hit after hit of jolt-to-your-system kind of jams, unifying the audience with raw, kick-ass energy. After letting the distortion ride throughout the entire set, there is no reason to doubt Kingdom of Birds’ claims to be Toronto’s best boy band. Circling away from our Anglo neighbours to the south, we were returned to Montreal by the dazzling 4-piece outfit known as Shunk. Shunk’s music makes me want to drive very fast in a tiny, flashy car, effortlessly swerving around any obstacle in my path. It’s unbridled and intense, while still maintaining that local band charm. Shunk’s art rides a beautifully fine line of being campy, without the twinge of in-your-face performatism that plagues a lot of new-age rock. After a night filled to the brim with weird, punky jams, the entirety of La Salla Rosa was primed and ready for Birds of Prrrey. There isn’t much to be said about Montreal’s premiere grunge trio that hasn’t already been stated a million times over. To quote Music Breather, one of my personal favourite Montreal music blogs, “What are the chances that you discover a band before they take over the whole fucking world?” Even before a single note was played, the energy in the room was palpable; the smell of sweat-soaked leather and 30-minute-old cigarette ash worked only to elevate this. I’m not quite sure how to put into words how refreshing Birds of Prrrey’s sound is, and I think that's a wonderful thing. There’s a familiar ease to the Birds' performances like they’re playing in front of a crowd of longtime friends; never taking themselves too seriously, and still playing their hearts out. Sandwiched between every track was a handful of anecdotes, family shoutouts, inside jokes and jabs, bringing me back to days of hometown garage band jams. I wish I could bring to mind a memorable moment from the show, but any idea my brain once held of the performance has been reduced to a blur of killer drum lines and screamed-out choruses. If you have a chance to lose your mind in a Birds Of Prrrey moshpit, I urge you to indulge (This Saturday at URSA!)

Without any surprise, TinyFest rocked. Not only is it a bountiful showcase of the unimaginably cool local scene, it's a reminder of what makes Montreal the coolest city out there: Good friends, loud music, and all-around kick-assery… all within 5 minutes of each other. 

 

Sam Kitch is the magazine editor at CJLO 1690AM. He is also the host of I Think You Might Like This, a hip-hop show airing Tuesdays at 2:00 PM.

Discordia 01: The Sir George Williams Affair

In May 1968, six West Indian students at Sir George Williams University accused their biology professor Perry Anderson of discrimination. Inaction on the part of the university leads to the largest student occupation in Canadian history. The events culminate in January 1969 with the police beating a student to death, the arrest of 97 other students, a fire in the campus's computer lab, and $2 million of property damage. 

How did this happen? Tune in to find out. 

Discordia is presented by CJLO 1690AM, made with the help of volunteers at the station, and funded by the Community Radio Fund of Canada. New episodes air Mondays at 6pm on CJLO.

By Sydney Sheedy and Piper Curtis

Art by James Fay

Additional notes:

The Black Georgian Newspaper - Published Jan 28, 1969

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