by Myles Tiessen (@myles_tiessen)
Hidden deep among pines, in the heart of the Canadian Shield, Festival De Musique Émergente (FME) burns brighter than an asteroid field. If for some reason you can’t see, you sure as damn will hear it.
Every year on Labour Day weekend, a sizable population of Montréal punks migrate to the mid-sized mining city of Rouyn-Noranda in Québec to mingle with the congregation of locals to play and hear music so loud it shakes the trees and causes waves in Lac Osisko, which sits at the heart of the city.
Whether it be the Petite Théatre, with its massive open floor plan and booming speakers that host more well-known acts and the storied Sunday metal nights, or L’Ordre Loyal Des Mooses, which traditionally functions as a town hall (and at one point hosted a literal funeral during one particularly unique concert), the limited streets of Rouyn-Noranda contain a surprising number of venues, all dotted within the condensed area of downtown.
There were a multitude of fabulous bands during this installment of FME, but here are some of the highlights for Post-Trash, in no particular order.
Feeling Figures
The supersonic garage troup from Montréal has been featured a few times on Post-Trash, but no amount of delineation can convey their firepower live. The dual vocalist Zakary Slax and Kay Moon’s chemistry was palpable as they fed off each other’s energy in what seemed like an arms race to see whose guitar could be the loudest. The guitar’s gain made the snare rattle in that way that’s completely annoying but just added to the band’s ramshackled, lackadaisical attitude. The fun melodies and grooves shifted and morphed into distortion and hid in the fuzz, but the intense jangle of their distinct yet timeless sound remained.
“Seek and Hide” played a bit rougher around the edges, and “Pour Un Instant” was loose as hell, but in reality, none of it mattered because their boisterous and fun performance was exactly what FME is all about. The tight venue meant you could see every note the musicians played as they danced around their guitars, proving that their insane technical ability is what makes that fuzz sound so good.
Myriam Gendron
Walking into the dark and muted Agora Arts theatre as Myriam Gendron played her set was like entering an intimate conversation with a friend. Someone who knows you so well they can reach right into your soul with only a few words. Gendron sat alone on a chair center-stage, primarily playing her gorgeous-sounding acoustic Martin guitar. Her brilliant and ever-so-effortless Travis picking floated through some ineffable fog that lifted and carried every note to its own delicate infinity.
Her voice, equally striking, carried so much gravitas that it started to sound as though she was singing in a monumental grotto. Even as someone who doesn’t speak the French language, her subtle tones and the emotion in her voice powerfully communicated everything one needed to know about the story of the song. At times, Gendron used an electric guitar, sounding like a more mesmerizing Fred Neil using looping pedals and samples to make ambient static and tape sounds with cricket noises. Overall, Gendron’s music is the purest form of folk music; it has so much emotional weight and tangential levity and is so masterfully crafted that it feels uncomplicated and easy.
PyPy
It didn’t make much sense on paper: another Montréal psych-punk band who made an album roughly ten years ago being the hottest act to see at FME this year. But hidden behind the two mystical mathematical symbols is essentially a super-group of scene legends from bands like Duchess Says and Choyce.
Led by the outlandishly magnetic performance of Annie-Claude Deschênes, PYPY left nothing on stage as they grooved their way through loud, dusty garage toilings and the funky jank of punk. Packed inside the small Cabaret De La Dernière Chance, the hot and murky room filled to the point where you thought people might start bursting through the wall. Ear plugs were passed around, beers were gripped tight for fear of dejection, and camera operators fought for a good spot to shoot like it was trench warfare. In the case of one particular cameraman, it actually was, as Deschênes wrapped her microphone cable around his camera in a cheeky attempt to steal it away from him.
Deschênes’ various hijinks on stage are far too hilarious and numbered to recount here. She played with the crowd like a cat would play with its freshly captured, terrified prey. But, I’ve compiled a list of a few of my favouites in no particular order.
Halfway through a song, she walks off stage with the mic, heads to the bar, orders a drink, and performs the rest of the song sitting on top of the bar. Then, she gets a stranger from the crowd to carry her back to the stage on his shoulders.
Dumping beer on her bandmates’ heads, who subsequently need to stop playing the song due to the volume of alcohol in their eyes.
Jumping into the mosh pit only to subvert the crowd’s expectations by getting everyone to sit down on the ground like it was a big campfire story.
Encouraging fans to bring inside and open up a few White Claw branded patio umbrellas.
The Pypy set was out of control and twisted as hell. They were locked into one another, tight but not overly strict, allowing themselves some great freedom to play however they wanted to. Their loud energy during “Lonely Striped Sock,” which is the lead single from their upcoming album Sacred Times, felt like a punk version of a Funkadelic song, and the unrelenting psychedelia of set closer “Ya Ya Ya- Psychedelic Overlords” was probably one of the most beautifully messy endings to a set I think I’ve ever seen.
Amery
Despite the fact that FME is first and foremost a punk festival, that didn’t stop Amery from bringing the magic of a 1980s mythical Sadie Hawkins dance to L’Ordre Loyal Des Mooses. Amery Sandford of the band Born At Midnight played through her timeless synth-pop milestone record, Continue As Amery, with innate giddy eagerness.
Opener “Mountain FM” brought a bright, searing guitar to the lush, digitized melodies, and similarly, “Rocker Blues” added some grittiness to the romantic sound. Amery’s set was some of the most unpretentious fun I’ve had at a concert. Whether it was the fact that she flippantly wore her own band merch or that during this afternoon set, she jumped into the crowd to dance with the six-year-old girls and their dads who were front and centre stage, as she neared the end and sang “Hotwire The Night,” the show began to feel like watching a friend sing lively karaoke set.
AlIx Fernz
It’s not a surprise that a set so sick and twisted comes from a mind equally sick and twisted. Like a freight train headed downhill whose breaks stopped working when the groovy synth-punk Alix Fernz launched into his set, nothing in the world could stop his energy. The industrial sounds of his latest album, Bizou, easily found their way into his set as the heavy, thick drums and demented guitar tones met Fernz’s distorted vocals. If you weren’t watching, you could easily mistake his microphone for a megaphone, but in this case, Fernz just used some fucked up effects. The whole set sounded like it was sent through a microwave, which fit perfectly with Fernz’s energy and style.
Running across the stage in his obscenely ripped-up shirt (honestly, it was so tattered, I thought it was a comedic bit), Fernz danced and swayed to some of the more rhythmic and melodious songs. Still, when the heat kicked in, he’d jump into the moshpit and wrap the microphone cord around his neck. In a Final Destination-style vision, I could see this set head towards real self-harm from Fernz, just to get a reaction, but luckily, that premonition never came true. Rather, he just slammed his head against the microphone enough times to cause CTE. Standing outside after the show, you could hear various groups of friends debrief and attempt to help each other understand what they had just witnessed.
Photos
by Christian Leduc:
