As the opening act for Michel Pagliaro, I discovered Erika Hagen and her first solo album, Pouvoirs magiques, released last April. A lovely succession of firsts for a Wednesday evening—that’s what Pop Montréal is all about, basically.
Those who shun the first parts can go to hell.
In this new project, the ardor of punk meets the roughness of garage-folk, all carried by a rock and indie-pop base. Hagen’s poetry is particularly evident in the contrast between resistance and nostalgic tenderness. It’s a world where ghosts are friends, gently slipping between the walls of our apartments. Magical powers don’t exist, despite all our superstitions and good intentions. Women are free to scream, spit, break things, run, and much more.
The dreamlike riffs are completely magnified by Louis-Solem Pérot’s bass. He serves the songs with a rare pop agility, exploiting the simplicity of the notes to add a texture that adds richness to the whole. Then there’s a dazzling playfulness to Hagen’s playing. She surprises us with unexpected breaks in rhythm. Her unique way of addressing the audience keeps us on the edge of our seats.
I’m thinking in particular of Anita, a song dedicated to her late grandmother: “Anita, you won’t come back, you’ll drag your wool skirt through all the cities of Europe.” Beyond the music, her throat tight with emotion, she presents us with portraits and stories that enter through the ear, and soon, we find ourselves seeing them take shape before our eyes. The virtuosity of her writing has a lot to do with it. She is superb to see in concert.
Photo: Louis Longpré
