Taverne Tour | Sharp riffs, cyclical rhythms

image de couverture: That Static

Third night of the Taverne Tour festival. What better way to end than with ear-splitting music? An evening I’d been eagerly anticipating: the Quai des Brumes packed to capacity, several spectators wearing earplugs (highly recommended for this kind of program). The anticipation was palpable.

That Static
The first band takes the stage. I’d seen them before, but this was the first time as a quartet rather than a trio. At 8 p.m., a piercing, shrill Jazzmaster rips through the room, coming from the lead singer. It’s such a distinctive sound that you wonder if it’s really the one he’ll stick with all evening. The arrival of the rest of the band quickly confirms it: despite the apparent chaos, every element is deliberate and clearly audible.

The second guitarist occupies the mid-range, while the bassist plays a Jaguar fitted with flatwound pickups, powerfully bringing out the low frequencies. The whole thing functions as a cohesive unit. Every two songs, the guitarists switch guitars to explore different tunings, often lower or deliberately dissonant. These choices immediately bring Sonic Youth to mind.

The band doesn’t play with dynamics, but rather with rhythms, cyclicity, and aggression: each repetitive motif, each micro-variation captivates and creates a hypnotic groove. The intensity of their playing is such that by the end of the set, the guitarist’s guitar is literally covered in blood. The vocals, very screamed and emotional, contrast with the bassist’s soft voice, adding a tension that reminded me of Soft Play‘s Everything and Nothing.

No official material has been released yet, but the band recently recorded at Holy Mountain Studio in Montreal. On stage, their sound lies somewhere between Unwound, Television, and Sonic Youth, but pushed towards something more tense and sharp, driven by a constant sense of urgency.

Penny & The Pits
It was the only name I didn’t recognize on the poster. I quickly realized that the lead singer also plays in Motherhood. The band is from the Maritimes, and these were their first Montreal shows under this project. What better night for a first show in the city?

I was struck by the diversity of their musical approach: sometimes two guitars, sometimes just one accompanied by a synthesizer. The band alternates between edgy post-punk or garage punk tracks and longer pieces based on pedal notes, reminiscent of Slint. Lyrics aren’t usually my focus, but that night they clearly referenced social injustices and the realities experienced by women, with the singer also providing context between songs.

Musically, I heard echoes of Deerhoof, Amyl and the Sniffers (who even covered one of their songs), and Thee Oh Sees during the most chaotic moments. A refreshing band, with whom the audience seemed completely connected.

Last Waltzon
Headlining the show, Last Waltzon burst onto the stage with both chaos and confidence, clearly not their first rodeo. Each song felt like it had to be seized on the fly: no downtime, just one track after another without hesitation. The two guitarists shared vocal duties, accentuating the raw and visceral nature of the performance.

A palpable, almost feverish urgency pervades the entire set. Yet, through the sonic deluge, melodic lines and cyclical rhythms constantly pull the listener back to something familiar. This tension reminded me of Brian Eno’s second, more punk-influenced album, Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy), where repetition and experimentation serve both energy and structure. The chaos is controlled, taut, and devastatingly effective. In the venue, every note resonates deep within: you’re gripped, shaken, utterly captivated. Last Waltzon delivers a furious yet focused energy, pushed to the breaking point without ever losing control.

This evening took me back to the festival’s early days. A completely captivated audience, enthralled by the uncompromising noise rock and post-punk delivered by each band. I left with my eardrums ringing, my body still shaking from the raw energy of the groups, and the feeling that every riff and every repetitive rhythm would haunt me for a long time, with an irresistible urge to listen to these tracks again as soon as possible.