Despite Eskimeaux being a solo recording project, Gabrielle Smith exudes a sense of welcoming collaboration through her indie-pop music. The singer/songwriter played at Bar Le Ritz on September 21. Eskimeaux began in 2007, and in nine years has seen many members come and go, but has always been Smith’s creation. The current ensemble is made up of Gabrielle Smith, Felix Walworth, Jack Greenleaf, and Oliver Kalb. Smith’s musical stylings are comparable to a cross between early Tegan and Sarah and Beach House; she captivates audiences with her angelic voice, and delicate synth melodies to match, balanced out by a full robust drumbeat and a steady simple guitar to pull it all together. The evening unexpectedly evolved into a sort of instrumental musical chairs as all the collective members played the supporting instruments for each other. First Kalb lead, then a change of arrangement brought Smith to centre stage, and finally hauling his massive bass drum to the front, Walworth closed the show.

When Smith performs, she moves carefree with a certain childlike sincerity, tapping her feet and knocking her knees as though everything is fresh and new, making the stage feel like home. She is not jaded. Perhaps it’s a combination of her youthful familiarity and respectful structure of the collective which leads music review websites such as Pitchfork to remark, “somehow it feels as if Smith is lending her ear to you, rather than the other way around.” When I approached her after the show, this opinion was validated. My introduction was immediately met with a variety of enthusiastic questions that came from Smith rather than myself. Despite her melancholic melodies, off-stage Smith radiates excitement giving the impression that she is exactly where she should be. Her music features a unique synth/folk crossover, matched with piercing lyrics that articulate the pains of heartbreak and growing up, which, given Smith’s child-like demeanour, creates a new level of believability. It is no surprise Smith’s lyricism is so poignant. When asked about her musical inspiration, she told The Daily, “I feel like I’m influenced by everything, as a lot of my music is made up of reactions to tiny moments that I can’t let go of from my day.”

In terms of her writing process, Smith begins with poetry. “Usually I write poems that then get turned into songs,” she told The Daily, “the music usually has to fit around what’s being said in the poem. Then the poem gets edited to fit into the music.” This is when her creative supports come in; while she retains songwriting as a completely independent aspect of her music, calling it “super private.” However, the instrumental is a group effort. She “bring[s] the band in for arrangements, a stage at which the song tends to change a lot. I rely on my band to help me trim the fat, both arrangement-wise and structurally, and hopefully to record the next record together.” The mutual respect and understanding between Smith, Walworth, Greenleaf, and Kalb undoubtedly comes through in their recorded music, but even more so in their collective performance. Together, they effortlessly establish an atmosphere of welcoming comfort, which invites audiences to come listen and stay a while.

— Anya Kowalchuk

Groovy Groenland

As Groenland’s concert begins, Sabrina Halde proves her enthusiasm by bouncing across the stage, with her long blonde hair flyng behind her. Simon Gosselin, the bassist, is bouncing too. In fact, we’re all bouncing. Club Soda is springing from its foundation to happily bump into the sky. Montreal indie band Groenland is just that groovy.
After having launched their second album, A Wider Space, on September 16, Groenland presented a concert on September 22. Led by Sabrina Halde and Jean-Vivier Levesque, the band weaves electronic elements with stringed instruments and vocals to create a cheerful pop sound with a lot of rhythm and a great deal of heart.

“With all of this space that we’re not using, I thought we could make something out of it,” sings Halde in “Distractions”. Like children building improvised blanket forts in the corners of a room, Groenland builds spontaneous, fantastical songs with instruments that are less often used in the pop genre. For example, Vivier plays a mouth accordion – think a miniature keyboard connected to a saxophone-like mouthpiece with a long springy tube. Then there’s the violin, the cello, and the horn section, which are not often seen in pop but really shine in Groenland.

Groenland appeals to a wide range of ages – from small children, to twenty-somethings, to middle-aged adults – because they make indie pop that combines the best of both worlds: the creativity and experimental nature of indie, and the catchy energy of pop music. But don’t assume that pop implies simplicity; these are complex, masterfully woven pieces. Most songs are a perfect balanced triangle of sound. There are the plinky electronic rhythms, then the smoothly soaring strings section, and it’s all brought together by Halde’s velvety powerful voice. Compared to Groenland’s previous album, The Chase, it’s easy to see how the band has matured. Songs on The Chase are much more electronic, with less integration of the different instruments. In A Wider Space, it seems like the songs have a more complex narrative structure, with an introduction, middle, and conclusion

— Maya Keshav

The Kills stay loyal

Alison Mosshart’s voice soared over Montreal’s Metropolis on September 21, making forays with scruffy-sounding old hits and hypnotic fresh ones. Playing from their new album Ash & Ice, The Kills rocked the stage alongside 60’s garage-band L.A. Witch. The POP Montreal website describes The Kills as “bluesy-punk,” though they are often referred to as “indie rock.” However, their delivery on the Metropolis stage transcended genre. From explosive garage-rock beats and intense visuals, the unceasing energy in the room promised to turn the inebriated audience into at least one half of the record’s premise by the end of the night: Ash.

To set the stage for the night, an image of a volcano was revealed. This motif represented one half of Ash & Ice’s enigmatic album cover, and accurately depicted the electrifying nature of the show. A crowd of teenagers and adults gathered by the bar, eager to grab drinks before the drums kicked in. Red lights signaled the volcano’s eruption, alerting the crowd. They sprang to the main floor, while Mosshart was ushered on-stage by the beginning guitar riffs of “Heart of a Dog,” played by Jamie Hince. During the opener, the duo professed their devotion to the night’s audience as they sang “I’m loyal, I’ve got the heart of a dog.”

When the punk song “Hard Habit to Break” commenced, band and audience alike clapped along rapturously. Two minutes in, however, the yellow glow of the stage and the initially playful tone of the song were gone, replaced by an extended version of the hard instrumental bridge. Lights pulsated to reveal the indie rock star’s slicing body movements and hair flips. The audience followed her every move, a testament to Mosshat’s hypnotic ability.

The dynamism of this first set was created by the duo’s fiery presence and theatrics. Mosshart jumped and prowled through the stage, and was in full control. At one point, she commanded the crowd to stretch their hands toward the ceiling with a theatrical swish of her own, leading to a full-on wave. The contrasting voices of the duo worked their magic best when Mosshart rose with force and a certain huskiness above Hince, whose deep-toned vocals in turn added softness and texture to the songs. The two created an ambiance that rests comfortably in the indie corners of rock between knockout garage and a soothing blues.

The energy at Metropolis came to a lull when a few analog ballads ensued, which reset the ambience as if to evoke Ice, the second component of the show. Accordingly, the backdrop changed colour to a cold, apathetic blue as Mosshart murmured the lyrics to “That Love” into the microphone, concluding that “it’s over now […] that love you are in is all fucked up.” This set integrated some older tracks like “Pots and Pans” and “Baby Says,” the drowsiness of which precluded Mosshart’s propensity for theatrics.
The Kills shared sentimental moments with the audience. If anything, their performance seemed tailored to a group of friends nostalgic for the past, creating an intimate atmosphere that allowed for a deeper understanding of the musicians. As Hince played a solo interlude, Mosshart leaned in for a kiss with a blissful smile, bobbing her head in gratitude.

The concert was a concoction of versatility and familiarity. The Kills venture off into new sonic avenues with Ash & Ice, introducing fresh electronic sounds to their established sledgehammering rock. This played off exceedingly well live, demonstrated by the intoxicating way the audience grooved along to the elating ‘O-Ohs’ of “Doing It To Death,” the album’s lead single. The Kills concluded the narrative they constructed throughout the concert by finishing the way they started – with a volcano exploding behind their backs. The band had lived up to their name: they killed it.

— Panayot Gaidov

Smoky Leif Vollebekk

A small group of devoted fans climbed the narrow staircase to the Rialto Theatre’s rooftop on September 24th to hear Leif Vollebekk’s last performance of a sold-out concert series, featuring respectfulchild. With a balcony stage framed with edison bulb string lights and vintage lamps and only the Outremont streets and sunset sky as a backdrop, the rooftop was converted into a quirky and easygoing concert venue that suited the performances that it would hold.

The opening act, respectfulchild, started off the evening on a contemplative note. A mysterious figure in a hooded cape, the solo artist seemed to cast a spell over the audience, using unusual violin pieces that innovated beyond traditional violin techniques and whispering vocals layered together in an interesting fusion of live instrumentals and on-the-spot sound editing and live looping. The resulting effect hovered at the border of hypnotic tranquility and unnerving eeriness. The Treaty 6, Saskatoon artist who rightly describes their sound as “ambient underwater fairy music” on their website, is a musician to check out for fans of experimental instrumental artists like Hungry Ghosts.

The second performer was one of my favorite artists, Montreal-based singer Leif Vollebekk. Leif’s style is so evocative that it can be difficult to express it properly, except to say that it is a wandering style. This is the kind of music that belongs on misty-morning road trips or hazy railroad station platforms – it expresses the bittersweet sentiment of watching travellers pass and feeling that you can go anywhere in the world, but knowing that the price of being a wanderer is living with “could-have-beens” whenever you leave.

In a show composed of mostly new songs, his signature style was still in full force. He is one of those rare artists who sound better live, as the extent of his emotional connectivity cannot be contained on a record and his vocal talent is not one that needs the recording studio to refine or enhance its sound. When he started playing, he seemed to lose himself in the song. The resulting performance was full of energy and enthusiasm for the nomadic stories his songs held. His new lyrics, filled with a sense of wanderlust, love, joy and regret, found a perfect dynamic with his sound that alternates from smoky to clear, and from intense to soothing and dreamy seamlessly. Unassuming and honest in his interactions and banter with his fans between sets, he created an intimate and homey atmosphere, even offering sweaters to shivering audience members in between acts.

What impressed me most about POP is how, despite the fact that this is a quickly growing event, still manages to create an intimate, friendly setting. At their events, musicians relax and watch the performances of the other musicians of the evening in the crowd and hang around after the show, chatting with fans in an unrushed ambiance and models and designers mingle with fans and Instabloggers. The boundaries between artist and audience become blurred as a new understanding of these diverse, enigmatic artists is discovered.

—Octavia M. Dancu

Florals and fur at Fashion POP

Confession time: despite being a lifelong Montrealer, I have never been to POP Montreal. In honour of their 15th edition, however, I was able to make up for it by attending the POP Fashion show, held at the Rialto Theatre. While many view POP as primarily a music festival, it offers a variety of events for everyone to enjoy – including record fairs, art workshops and exhibits, film screenings, and fashion events.

The evening air buzzed with camera flashes and anticipation as Montreal’s fashion set gathered for what was sure to be an interesting and inspiring night. People from all strata of the fashion world could be seen at the pre-show cocktail party: first-time fashion show attendees trying to take discreet Snapchat shots of impossibly tall models lounging by the bar, fashion photographers and high-profile local Instabloggers flitting through the crowd to catch the perfect candid shots and designers explaining their inspirations and fashion muses. It was a kaleidoscopic visual treat, even before the show began. Wherever you would turn, a new intriguing choice would present itself; a flash of sequin, an intricate lace design, a bold hair colour or lipstick shade.

Fashion POP showcased pieces from up-and-coming designers A MAN x Cholo 58, Laugh, Markantoine, Onlookers, S3ttl3r47 and Whitewalls Worldwide, exploring the struggle between different ideas on the direction of fashion: should high fashion be wearable or aspirational? Should clothes seamlessly reflect our lives, or aspire to be art?

The first designers, A MAN x Cholo 58 and Laugh, worked primarily in Yeezy-esque neutrals, showing oversized coats in beige and grey which gave the model dramatic, bulky, larger-than-life silhouettes and comfortable-looking textures. This set the tone for the rest of the evening, with oversized looks appearing in almost all of the other collections.

One standout piece was a distressed denim dress paired with a chunky gold chain necklace and a brazen pink fur slouched across designed by Markantoine. The look combined luxury with grunge in a bold yet jarring statement. Markantoine continued this study in contrasts by pairing a brown fur coat with a black hoodie underneath, continuing the theme of exaggerated opulance juxtaposing street-style staples. This collection came across almost as social commentary on the conflicted ideals of this New Americana vision that is still struggling to define itself: a covetousness for status and a desire for true authenticity and experience. The collection closed with a statement coat and dress that departed from the previous juxtaposition with their matching scarlet color, ending off on a cohesive note.

The next collection was designed by Onlookers; their pieces were minimalist and streamlined, with sleek blue and grey dresses, and tailored coats. The elegant shapes, subtle colors and lines of the garments created a thoughtful palate-cleanser from the busier and sometimes jarring collections that preceded it. This collection seemed one of the most versatile in the whole show —I could easily see one of those dresses being a good choice for a cocktail hour or a networking event.

The winner of Fashion POP 2016 was S3ttl3r47’s dreamy romantic collection, where soft, flowing florals and lace met whimsical tailoring in an aesthetic that could be described as Wes Anderson meets dark urban fairytale. This collection spoke to me as haute couture more than the rest because some of the outfits blurred the boundary of art and clothing.

Crowd-favorite Whitewalls Worldwide closed the show in a roar of applause with accessible urban streetwear, channeling the current athleisure and 90s revival trends into a collection that seemed current yet approachable. With these last two collections, the struggle between the two fashion ideals is thrown into sharp relief – should haute couture remain engaged in the pursuit of art, or should it seek to please the general public that experiences it and work towards enhancing wearability instead?

—Octavia M. Dancu

The post Keep on poppin’ with POP Montreal appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Jean-Vivier Levesque and Sabrina Halde lead Groenland, a Montreal indie pop ensemble, alongside members Jonathan Charette, Ariane Gruet-Pelchat, Simon Gosselin, and Mariane Bertrand. The band weaves together vocals, electronic rhythms, and stringed instruments. Their second album, “A Wider Space,” drops on September 16 via Bonsound.

The Daily sat down with Halde and Levesque to talk about their music, Tim Hortons, the Montreal pop scene, the end of rock and indie music, the explosion of Do-It-Yourself music, and dancing on stage.

The McGill Daily (MD): So you’re about to start your tour?

Sabrina Halde (SH): Yes!

Jean-Vivier Levesque (JVL): The thing is, we always eat at Tim Hortons. All the girls [in the band] are against it, then somehow on tour we’re like, there’s Tim Hortons! And all the girls are like come on […]. I still like it after all these years.

MD: What is the music scene like in Montreal?

JVL: It’s a small place where you know a lot of bands […]. There are only a few venues. I don’t know if you know le Quai des Brumes? It’s a place we go often, and there’s a lot of musicians there […]. Casa del Popolo is another place where bands go. It’s a nice scene.

SH: Our friends work there. But there’s still a French side and an anglophone side.

MD: Do you think the music scene is different here than in Toronto, for example? Because you worked there for a while.

JVL: We like to go to Toronto, but we don’t know the scene there, really. We go to some venues, but they are very far apart […]. It’s tougher to go to a venue in Toronto.

MD: Has anything [interesting] ever happened on tour?

JVL: One time, we were in a hotel in Germany […]. It was like three in the morning, and there was a guy knocking at every door […]. We were waking up, and we were like, what’s happening […]. The guy was stuck in the hotel. He couldn’t go outside because it was locked. He just wanted to get out, and he was just talking in German […]. Finally someone understood him, and got the keys, and he was like, “Thanks!” He was very sweet, finally. We were very afraid, and we didn’t know what to do.

SH: So if it’s the end of the world, I don’t want you to protect me.

JVL: I was like, “Oh no no no no!”

MD: Do you think your time at university prepared you for what you’re doing now?

JVL: I don’t think we used our knowledge that much, but I think I’m still a better musician after all that studying […]. We learned a lot of things, it’s just, we don’t remember what exactly […]. We understand music better than before.

SH: It feels better to go back to something simple. When you learn a lot, but you’re like, I’m still gonna go back to something simple, pop music […]. It feels like there’s a reason you go there.

MD: If you could go back in time to ten years ago, and give advice to yourself, what would it be?

SH: Don’t try to control things so much. Let it go. With the first album, everything happened so smoothly. The people we met, everything.

JVL: I would say, rehearse a little bit more, though.

SH: I would say, listen to yourself. Do what you need to do so you can feel better.

MD: What do you see for the future of Groenland?

JVL: I’d like it to be popular, but not too big […]. I hope that people are going to like the album […]. We’d like to tour, not too much […]. Go to nice festivals in the summer […]. Not the really big venues, but with good people. Just, the quiet life.

MD: You have a pretty big band, with a lot of people. How do you find working together to make the finished product?

SH: Well, [Jean-Vivier and I] start writing the songs together, and we make all the decisions.

JVL: It’s easier like that. We chose that, and the musicians are aware of that since the beginning, and were willing to go in our project like that. They are creative, too, and they bring their own ideas, but in the end we always decide, and everybody’s cool with that. It’s very easy with our band.

MD: How do you think the genre of pop music is changing, right now?

SH: When we started the band, we were listening to a lot of indie music. I feel like indie is getting lost somewhere […].

JVL: It’s the end of rock. It doesn’t exist anymore […]. Now [the trend is] going more to synth.

MD: Do you think everyone’s ‘indie’ now?

JVL: It doesn’t mean the same thing as it used to. When you say ‘indie,’ what does it mean? It was more clear up until a couple of years ago.

SH: That’s how the industry is changing. [Indie] became a thing because everyone could make music by themselves, on their computer. Now everybody’s doing that. At first, people were learning, but now, everybody’s doing that, so it’s all indie […]. But I guess there’s still a difference of aesthetic. From really produced pop music, and then like, indie music. It’s more creative.

MD: If you could imagine who’s listening to your songs, who would it be?

JVL: There seem to be a lot of different ages at the shows in Quebec. There are always young people, old people, every age. I was surprised about that.

SH: I hope there will be people like me, listening […]. We’re careful that we don’t make a sort of naïve, poppy music. So children can listen to it, but so can older people.

JVL: This album is less naïve than the first. Maybe the kids will like it less, I don’t know.

SH: I hope not, I hope they’ll still come [to our shows]! We love it when there’s kids dancing.

JVL: Once we said, “come dancing!” and they were like, “okay, we’re coming!” And then there were like thirty kids on the stage, for the whole show.

SH: They were having so much fun! It was like a whole other show for people to watch, just babies dancing together. I was so happy the whole time. It was in a park, outside. It was sunny.

MD: How do your songs change over time?

JVL: A lot, I think, mostly because of what we’re listening to. We’re inspired by different music […]. For us it feels different, this album. But I really don’t know what people will think. Maybe they will find it very similar.

SH: It’s completely different. We had an interview and they said the songs were more ambiguous. I feel like it’s the opposite, I think the songs are more mature.

JVL: We’ll wait for people to say what they think. Then [we] will understand the album more, [ourselves].

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Catch Groenland at Club Soda on September 22, or stream “A Wider Space” on iTunes.

The post The good life is jazzy rhythms appeared first on The McGill Daily.

K.C. Coombs alternates between snarky and sympathetic in the role of Sarah. Ghosts #1 (Peter Farbridge) and #2 (Daniel Brochu) try their best, as do supporting actors Jennifer Morehouse and Howard Rosenstein. But they’re all held back by the disappointing script.

Montreal playwright Alyson Grant’s idea of tragicomedy is to flicker between comedy and tragedy as fast as she can, hoping the audience will squint and the whole thing will blur together. Unfunny jokes follow ponderous philosophy in an attempt at irony. Death, God, heritage, suicide, progress, love, family — it’s all there: but Grant touches on each theme too quickly, without exploring any in depth. Progress! could be an emotionally powerful story, but the emotions are lost in the confusion.

The audience is invited right into the treatment room of Sarah Lawson, the hospital’s fictional last patient.

There are as many metaphors thrown into the play as there are big ideas. First, there’s the suffering elephant that Sarah sees at a circus in Pointe-Claire, which motivates her to commit suicide. But what to make of the glowing book, in which God has written down the names of everyone who has died and who will die in the hospital? Or of the waltz danced by Sarah’s suicidal mother, holding a noose around her neck? If that’s not enough, what of the presence of a literal smoking gun, which Ghost #2 confuses as simply a metaphor, before a real smoking gun appears on stage? Although seemingly created in an attempt to add depth to the play, the plethora of symbols only succeed in baffling the audience into imagining depth that isn’t there.

As for the comedy, it borders on boring, sometimes cringeworthy. For example, Ghost #1, an older gentleman, has to keep leaving scenes to pee. This is abused as a plot device to leave Ghost #2 alone with Sarah, but first the audience has to watch Ghost #1 stagger around the stage while clutching his crotch.

Then there’s the relationship between the ghosts, the classic alpha-beta relationship seen in almost any plot-driven narrative needing some trusty sidekick-style comic relief. The script sinks to its lowest point here, relying on cliches and groan-worthy jokes. For example, Ghost #2 exclaims, “I thought I’d dotted my t’s and crossed my i’s!” and there’s a pause, and you just know that Ghost #1 is going to say sternly, “Didn’t you mean crossed your t’s and dotted your i’s?” Then he says exactly that. Cue yawn.

Although seemingly created in an attempt to add depth to the play, the plethora of symbols only succeed in baffling the audience into imagining depth that isn’t there.

The production isn’t all bad, though. The sound effects by sound designer Nikita U are crisply realistic. The actors occasionally break the fourth wall to interact with the audience, which is fun, especially in the small, intimate room.

But ultimately the play is about the Royal Victoria Hospital. The references to the hospital’s legacy highlight the play’s purpose and strengthens a semi-historical representation that says “an homage and gentle goodbye” to the building. Many of the cast and crew members have personal connections to the Royal Vic, and seeing this play is a last chance for Montrealers to say goodbye to this icon of local history.

If Progress! could just focus itself to depict the hospital poignantly over the years, it would be enjoyable. Nonetheless, it is a labour of love: imperfect, but ever so earnest.

The post Progress! haunts Royal Vic appeared first on The McGill Daily.