Fog haze, red lights, and glitchy protections bathe the lunchroom-esque atmosphere of La Toscadura in the moments before Ribbon Skirt’s launch of their new album, Bite Down (2025, Mint Records).
Up first is Taupe, a dreamy math-gaze group that feels like a spring day in sonic form. Andrew Miller’s guitar lines quietly, diligently meander through each arrangement. Soft vocal harmonies from Heather Ogilvie and Jess Barry cushion our fall from each unpredictable change, a cool blue tapestry of stunning resonance driven along by the deep connection between Barry’s bass and Evan Magoni’s drums. It’s a relaxed, inviting, yet melancholic set, drawing us into an immersive bath of orbiting melodies and gentle resolutions.
What comes after is an extreme tone shift as Heaven for Real takes the stage. This Halifax/Toronto amphetamine rock outfit is all knees and elbows, each disparate bit jutting out at odd (and sometimes distressing) angles, a relentlessly rattling train car that threatens to fall apart altogether at any moment. Horseshoe theory applies here—each member has evidently become so skilled at this abstract form of psych-post-prog-punk that it almost sounds like they don’t know what they’re doing. Guttural guitar and larger-than-life bass from twin songwriters Mark and J. Scott Grundy rush at each other in a game of chicken, flying alongside incredible breakneck beats from guest drummer Eli Kaufman. When these three hit a chord or a moment together, it’s like a beautiful, impossible accident—never going where you expect, but always landing with momentum and perfect clarity.
Finally, it’s time for the main event. Montreal veterans Ribbon Skirt (formerly known as Love Language) pull up to the stage as an ominous track drones overhead. The band appears first, including guitarist Billy Riley in a wizard cloak. Only when the moment is right does lead singer and songwriter Tashiina Buswa take the stage, a dramatic entrance worthy of this pivotal moment in Ribbon Skirt’s sudden ascension. What follows is an intense, no-holds-barred performance of just about every song from the LP (plus some new music). Like a volcano finally blowing its top clean off, Ribbon Skirt blacks out the sky and rains futuristic hellfire through jagged chords, haunting melodies, and an alluring, dangerous edge to every single moment. Buswa is a natural in this pop-star lead role, strutting across the stage with bulletproof confidence and a commanding presence.
Despite her ironclad performance, Buswa hasn’t let the incredible hype (including reviews from Pitchfork and Nardwuar) get to her head. She somehow exudes gratitude and humility while also delivering her songs with fearsome conviction, welcoming friends to the stage, pressing her head against her bandmates in a visceral embrace mid-track, looking across the packed, hot room with a smile of disbelief on her face. She addresses us about halfway through, shocked at how many have come out for this moment—a moment that, I believe, she’ll look back on as the instant that everything changed. Despite the incredible entropy behind Bite Down, its architect doesn’t seem to see herself as Ribbon Skirt’s central force. The spirit of this group remains deeply collaborative and connected, a true four-piece rather than Buswa and her band, even as they rapidly ascend to a new level of eminence and success.
My only complaint of this entire evening was with the sound. All three sets, from the quiet tones of Taupe to the most raucous moments of Ribbon Skirt, were plagued by incessant bursts of painful, screeching feedback, which only seemed to get worse as the night went on. It reached a literal fever pitch as Ribbon Skirt took their encore, with Buswa jumping in front of the stage’s apron for what ultimately became about a minute of uninterrupted, agonizing feedback from every speaker in the house. And despite this, the crowd reached a frenzy, dancing and writhing with purpose and passion—even military-grade sonic warfare wasn’t enough to deter the incredible appeal of Ribbon Skirt’s new form.
