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Amenra took over Studio TD on Friday, September 27th, bringing their atmospheric metal sound - at once referred to as “extreme metal”, “post-metal”, and “atmospheric sludge metal” depending on who you ask (and which album you’re looking at), though it’s probably easiest to describe them as blackened post-metal. They’re a band that originated in 1999 from the West Flanders city of Kortjik in Belgium, rising from the ashes of the hardcore punk band Spineless, founded as an outlet for pain by vocalist Colin van Eeckhout when his father died. They’ve brought their punk origins with them, not only the musical influence, but their DIY ethic and commitment to art and collaboration. I was fortunate enough to see them, in what was probably my favourite live show of the year.

The night opened at 8 pm sharp with Blackwater Holylight. Bathed in purple and blue lights, the four-woman lineup captivated the attention of the audience immediately, rendering us all into an appreciative silence. Blackwater Holylight have a sound that is rich with a variety of influences, from occult and psychedelic rock to black metal and stoner doom, you can hear traces of Electric Wizard and Wolves in the Throne Room in their sound and guitar tone. The drums had a soft feeling to them, and the synth was loud in the mix. There was a heaviness to their sound, as they switched between a cleaner and more distorted guitar, as well as having both clean and screamed vocals. It fit the tone of the entire show, with lyrics and a sound that felt deeply personal to the musicians. Guitarist and frontwoman Alison (Sunny) Faris didn’t speak much, except to thank us for our time, and to express gratitude at being able to tour with the other bands.

Next up was Primitive Man. They’re a three-piece, with guitarist/vocalist Ethan Lee McCarthy, bassist Jonathan Campos, and drummer Joe Linden. I can’t refer to any members as the frontman, since they didn’t speak for the entire show. They play slow, sludgy death/doom metal songs, with dissonant black metal-esque chords and blast beats, and deep bassy growls. The entire experience was somber, and refined in atmosphere, with small changes to the guitar and bass strumming adding layers of depth, and drums that sounded incredible over the sound system. I was surprised halfway through when a droney electronic bit started in the middle, combining noise and industrial effects. It was well integrated into the whole of their set, which was accompanied by visuals from a projector, distorted, pixelated, blurry faces in blue and red, both fascinating and horrifying, like the music itself.

Finally, Amenra. It’s hard to put into words the experience of their show. Their first few albums were titled Mass, and their shows are in the same ethos, closer to communion than mere concerts. Their music is indeed powerful, carrying so much emotion and pain that it is crushing in the most cathartic ways. Vocalist Colin van Eeckhout spent most of the show facing away from the crowd,  alternating between violent screams and a soft, gentle singing voice. It gave an even more intense experience when he did turn around, his metal grill glinting under the light of the projector, the visuals of which almost obscured the entire band at times. Often in black and white, the projections were distorted shadows of abandoned buildings, beams, and forests, with visuals that reminded me of the film Ivan’s Childhood by Andrei Tarkovsky (an excellent film, btw). Musically, the show was perfected. The speaker system at Studio TD has a very professional sound, and Amenra are experts when it comes to their sound design, with powerful drums and each instrument perfectly fine-tuned; even the hi-hats pan to different sides of the room. During the song Am Kreuz, replacement bassist Amy Barrysmith from the band Year of the Cobra provided backing vocals, and the contrast between her delicate voice and Colin’s scream made the experience all the more impactful. Like everyone else, I was entranced, closing my eyes and submerging into the experience. It resonated with the rest of the show; Amenra’s music isn’t about joy, but collective experiences of pain, with drowning, repetitive riffs, like trying to tread above water in a storm, but not quite managing. Most of the songs are from Mass VI, written during a time when vocalist van Eeckhout’s son was diagnosed with a brain tumour, and when drummer Bjorn Lebon lost his mother to cancer. I didn’t know this going into the show, but I think the feelings were conveyed without needing to know the details. There’s an honesty to their music that makes it relatable, regardless of what one might be going through. To finish the night, Amenra left us with a projected quote: “When all the flowers have fallen, all that shall remain are thorns.”

It’s the eve of Libra season and there’s no better way to celebrate than by attending a Liana Flores concert, queen of Venusian themes: flowers, trees, dewdrops and rain, softness, friendship, romance as a way of life. 

Liana Flores is an earth star quickly rising. She’s been touring with her album Flower of the soul, released June 28th on Verve. The album is a heavenly, lush offering that meditates on the natural world, love, release, and transformation. The 25-year-old British-Brazilian songwriter is inspired by bossa nova and ‘60s folk and is incredibly faithful to honoring both traditions. Her references of Gal Costa and Caetano Veloso, Nick Drake and Vashti Bunyan, are beautifully present in her work.

    The show is at Fairmount Theatre, where just five days before I had seen the Rat Queen of Castle Rat slay the Reaperess and spit blood on a room full of metalheads. The venue is practically unrecognizable now. Lazy circles of orange light dance on the walls like a ‘60s TV intro. Astrud Gilberto plays on the speakers, it feels like I’m entering a lounge with a crackling fireplace and an old stereo. Girls in long skirts with bows in their hair gently chatter, some sit cross-legged in front of the stage. Her audience seems young, many looking to be around 15-20. This makes sense as the virality of her song “rises the moon” on Tiktok is what kicked off her career and got her signed with Verve. I suspect she may be responsible for introducing many young people on the Internet to bossa nova standards and weird 60s psych-folk, which warms my old soul. 

     Juliana Chahayed opens the show with her boyfriend Jonathan Huber. She introduces the first song, written about her first Tamagotchi, to which the crowd responds “Aww.” Chahayed plays guitar and sings in a high, soft voice over a video game beat, with Huber hypnotizing on the keys. The crowd is immediately charmed, smiling and swaying. She sings about animals and collecting trinkets, sometimes using a fuzz-ifying phone mic.

    Between sets, someone in the audience shakes ass to a Stan Getz solo. There is a friendliness and comfort in the room, people are softly talking and laughing. When you’re gathered by a mutual affinity for odes to flowers, streams, and butterflies, there is a sense of immediate romantic comradery. We’re all lovers here. 

    Then Flores comes out in a long orange dress. The crowd bursts alive at the sight of her and people move in close to the stage, though very politely. She is soft-spoken and graceful, deeply genuine. She is accompanied by a rhythm section who are incredibly tight while also being incredibly chilled. They all play effortlessly, the bass is deep like wet earth, the drummer accents with chimes. I immediately feel like I’m in a forest, like these are spells of the earth come to life. Flores’ voice is delicate and airy, capable of scaling to dazzling heights. When she sings in her lower register her voice becomes a whisper that pulls us all in closer, really reminiscent of Gal Costa and Elis Regina, even reminding me of Joni Mitchell at times with its playful loops and dives.

    The band plays songs from the new album, from her previous EPs recently and The Water’s Fine!, as well as two covers: “Light Flight” by Pentangle which makes the musical talent of the group unmistakably clear, transforming the scene into a madly alive medieval marketplace, and also Tom Jobim’s “Wave.” Flores prefaces “Wave” by asking if there are any Brazilians in the audience, and when several people wave their hands she lights up and exclaims that there hadn’t been at some previous shows. “Obrigada, gente,” she says after her beautiful rendition of the bossa nova classic. At the end of the show, she asks the crowd for some French translations and repeats back tentatively, “Merci, tout le monde! Bonsoir!” Two small curtsies, a heart with her hands, and that marks the end of the sweetest evening. I exit the theatre sighing, feeling like she has bestowed on us each an armful of flowers, fragrant and sentimental. 

CJLO DJ Ceylan sat down with Will Anderson of New York-based shoegaze band Hotline TNT to chat about touring, musical influences, and more, ahead of their show September 30th at Montreal's Bar Le Ritz. 

Tune in to Northern Stagelights,  Sundays at 1pm, only on CJLO and catch Hotline TNT at Bar Le Ritz PDB, September 30th, 2024

Jessica Pratt shone on Wednesday, as she played to a sold-out show at Montréal’s historic La Tulipe. With a brilliantly unique voice which sounds as though she time travelled from the 1930s with its transatlantic quirks, Pratt has been a critical darling, bubbling under the mainstream in the indie folk scene for a while. However following her meteoric rise amongst listeners after her collaboration with A$AP Rocky on the single “Highjack” from his soon-to-be-released album, Don’t Be Dumb, Pratt has been introduced to a new sphere of listeners and fans. Jessica Pratt has been the soundtrack for this year's languidly tranquil summer and it seemed only fitting for her to usher out summer with this late September show. 

Charming opener, Otto Benson, provided a pleasant foil to Pratt’s quaint vintage sound, rocking along to a frankensteined glockenspiel – fitted with bells and hooked up to a computer (for which he sold manuals at the end of the show). Although bashful, Benson beguiled the audience with his extensive musical capabilities. Though his melodies evoked the sound of acoustic legends such as Neil Young or Simon and Garfunkel, his lyrics, in contrast, had a twinge of the playful absurdity of a David Byrne. Singing about everything from acrylic nails to toothpaste, his lighthearted and silly lyrics, whistling and bell-fitted glockenspiel suggested a childlike quality to his music in contrast to his otherwise more mellow and sombre melodies and performance. Where there is a lack of glockenspiel in today’s modern music, Otto Benson single-handedly fills it.

Jessica Pratt made her appearance soon after, her mass of teased platinum blonde hair glowing like a halo in the spotlight. Opening with “World on a String” from her latest album Here in the Pitch (May 2024) Pratt’s raspy voice glided over the band like a record played through a gramophone. Her band were extremely tight and well-rehearsed, sounding virtually identical to their recorded studio sound, and leant an imposing sonic quality to Pratt’s performance. The crisp 60s atmosphere in the production of Pratt's latest album references The Beach Boy’s iconic album Pet Sounds (1966) as her main influence and the live studio band embodied this sonic 60s pop quality entirely. The set featured multiple songs from her latest album, including “Better Hate” which featured scatting from Pratt in an Ella Fitzgerald-esque fashion, “Life Is” (the lead single off the album), “By Hook or By Crook” and “Get Your Head Out” – featuring an underlying mesmerizing Bossa Nova groove. 

Pratt also made sure to play a few crowd favourites off her more raw and acoustic sophomore album On Your Own Love Again (2015), such as “Back Baby” and in an encore, ended with, “On Your Own Love Again”, eliciting a crowd sing-along which was simultaneously excited yet subdued; as if reverently trying not to overpower Pratt’s own whispery vocals. 

Despite limited between-song banter with the crowd, Pratt never failed to utter a meek yet earnest “thank you very much” after each round of applause from the enthralled audience. Fans eventually started a tally of how many times she said it (by my count, 19 times). Though shy and, for lack of a better word, slightly awkward, Jessica Pratt provided the audience with a truly bewitching experience. Pratt’s curiously charming and intriguing vocal stylings transported the crowd to something sonically resembling a back alley bar in a swampy bayou of 1930s New Orleans – despite the most recent album’s clear 1960s chamber pop influence and sound. 

The spirit of Jessica Pratt hung in the air as the crowd filed out in a languorous haze, as though processing the enchanting and ghostly presence they had just experienced. Like a warm hug from a comforting and nostalgic phantom, Pratt haunted the hearts of all those whose souls she permeated with her music.