The Weather Station at FIJM / Benoit Rousseau
The Weather Station Offers A Marvelous Climate to FIJM
Along with her band, decked out in acid-wash blue attire, Tamara Lindeman aka The Weather Station, brought the emotional heat and rain to the FIJM with her jazzy baroque pop and siren-esque voice. Actually, her voice can switch from a low, conversational register, to a bright soprano, in seconds—hypnotizing the audience on a dime. Her band is also a marvel, taking the instrumentation to another level with saxophone freakout solos, washed-out and delayed guitar riffs, and a rhythm section that gets the bodies swaying. The Ignorance album seemed to be on the main setlist and few from the companion piece, How Is It That I Should Look At The Stars. Part of me really wanted to hear older material, but I did arrive late, and that’s sometimes just showbiz.
But one girl on the side of the stage, who I think was the daughter of a guest band member and had to be no older than 12, was dropping some fantastic unchoreographed dance moves during the hits “Robber” and “I Tired To Tell You,” adding levity to songs with heavy topics like climate change and a darkening geopolitical worldwide structure. I think that’s the extraordinary draw of The Weather Stations’ music; no matter how dark or sad it gets, you can always dance to it.
Stephan Boissonneault
Marisa Monte’s sensual high mass (with Rommel as a bonus)
On Tuesday evening at Théâtre Maisonneuve, we were somewhere between Montreal and Montrecife. A mostly Brazilian audience, overexcited and dressed to the nines, had gathered to welcome Marisa Monte.
Many of them were surprised by the arrival on stage of the opening act, Rommel.
The songwriter, born in the northern Brazilian state of Maranhao and now based in Montréal, quickly won over the audience. Following in the footsteps of Chico Cesar and, to some extent, the Lenin of the early years, he presented excerpts from Karawara, his sixth album, which pays tribute to the world’s indigenous peoples. It was a wonderful showcase offered by FIJM, opening for a great Brazilian star. And Rommel didn’t miss a beat. He has made many new friends. His creations are increasingly original.
The room was already warmed up when Marisa Monte appeared on stage, to a very atmospheric Pink-Floydian tune.
Then she launched into her rendition of Portas, her first original album in ten years.
Once again, this blend of sophistication and popular music jumps out at us. The arrangements by trombonist Antonio Neves’ wind-copper trio are hyper-sophisticated and harmonize fabulously with Marisa’s voice. At times, it sounds like Steve Reich, but with less repetition.
And what a voice! It’s really in concert that you realize the extent of her vocal range, as the lady has long been a classical singer.
Another surprise: she did all her song presentations in French. Even in front of an essentially Portuguese-speaking audience. Bravo madame!
After the section devoted to the new album, the radiant singer-songwriter launched into the interpretation of numerous past hits.
Between songs, she introduced one of her musicians at length before giving him a hug. To show the importance of the team.
When I left, shortly before the end, Théâtre Maisonneuve was in a trance.
Marisa Monte is intelligence, sensuality and openness.
On the other hand, Marisa, drop your blinking, eye-sore opening gown.
Michel Labrecque
Mezerg at Rio Tinto Stage / Benoit Rousseau
Mezerg Turns the Outdoor Rio Tinto Stage into a Darkened Nightclub
If you’re like me and follow a bunch of musicians on Instagram after watching their virtuosity during a few videos, you might already be aware of Mezerg, a French, one-man band techno machine who only uses live instruments like the synth keyboard, theremin, and kick to create a wild dance party.
It’s interesting to watch Mezerg in action as he decides what synth line to loop or what drum kick to start off his song. He’s a man built on improvisation, honed in by his depth-defying theremin skills that completely wash over the audience—like he’s commanding us all to go to war. The light show was also grand, sometimes syncing up with Mezerg’s kick, which I’m pretty sure he controls with MIDI, but who knows? Mezerg is probably more suited to play Montreal’s MUTEK than FIJM, but the crowd was in awe of his techno-jazz skills and more than happy to move within his created outdoor club.
Stephan Boissonneault
The Bad Plus as a Quartet
Photo Benoît Rousseau
Two decades earlier, or perhaps a little more, The Bad Plus had been dubbed “the heaviest acoustic trio in jazz”. At the time, we loved The Bad Plus for their jazzified covers of cool music of the moment, from indie rock to electro. What’s more, we appreciated their own compositions, very much in tune with the jazz trends of the last quarter-century.
We also remember a magnificent collaboration with saxophonist Joshua Redman in the mid-2010s. The acoustic trio was transformed after the departure of pianist Ethan Iverson. Double bass (Reid Anderson) and drums (Dave King) had to make other alliances. And the one we found ourselves in front of, on Tuesday evening at the Monument National, was quite distinct from the old one. A homonymous album, released in 2022 on Edition, bears witness to this.
Reid Anderson did not lack for humor, notably in introducing his piece “Motivations 2” and reporting on the apprehensions of some as to whether this work was more motivating than “Motivations 1”. Or that piece “You Won’t See Me Before I Come Back” where he indicates that he went to Tim Hortons. Haha!
Big difference in instrumentation: Ben Monder is clearly a jazz guitar master of our time, both for his virtuoso articulation and his creative direction as a composer and improviser. On the sax (tenor in this context), Chris Speed has long been a fixture in the New York jazz ecosystem, his reputation well established and his high virtuosity beyond doubt.
The program at the Monument-National now focuses more on the original repertoire than on a singular performance of old and new standards. As to whether the identity or brand of The Bad Plus is absolutely necessary to the long-term success of this very interesting (and less spectacular) quartet, we’ll give it to you straight.
Alain Brunet
black midi at FIJM / Frédérique Ménard Aubin
black midi Bring the Hellfire to Club Soda During FIJM
Playing to a full house at Club Soda, black midi put on a show worthy of their name. With their frenzied post-punk, math rock, and indie jazz – all wrapped in a cloak of avant-garde experimentation – the crowd of mostly young concertgoers was treated to a spectacularly chaotic evening.
After being warmed up by opener Joseph Shabason, the British quartet ambled onto the stage with an air of nonchalant confidence, resembling a motley crew of mad scientists about to set out to work. Geordie Greep, the band’s enigmatic frontman, clutched his guitar with an intensity that bordered on possession. His piercing gaze and schizophrenic stage banter suggested a conduit to some ethereal realm that lay just beyond the reach of mortal comprehension. Drummer Morgan Simpson proved to be a real force of nature, and I spent the concert mostly spellbound by his sheer athleticism.
Playing a lot of material from Hellfire, the band also delighted with some classics from Shlagenheim. It did not take long for a debauched mosh pit to quickly form at the front of the stage, and at times I had the impression that the band was something like Roman senators commanding their legions in a work by Hieronymus Bosch.
Varun Swarup
Makhathini hits hard !
I began my July 4th musical evening with a jazz trio, and ended it with another very different.
The trio of Cuban-Quebecois Rafael Zalvidar, accompanied by alto saxophonist Luis Deniz, offered a learned jazz, a little academic for me, but satisfied the crowd, which was in great numbers at the TD studio, at 6:00 pm.
On the other hand, South African Nduduzo Makhathini offered a much more iconoclastic performance at Pub La Traversée Molson Export. EsplanadeTranquille was anything but tranquille (quiet in French).
Some call it spiritual jazz, others might say destructive jazz. I arrived halfway through the 10 PM concert. Makhathini, bassist Zwelakhe-Duma Bell and drummer Francisco Mela were already sweating.
These young jazz wolves hit their strings, their skins and their ivories hard. But all this exudes an urgency to live, a crazy energy. And at the end, beauty.
They play hard, but it remains acoustic and jazz, with some free jazz.
Not perfect jazz, but very meaningful. Very likely to appeal to a young audience. And the old man enjoyed being shaken up.
I was, however, a little worried about the state of the piano at the end of the concert…
Michel Labrecque
