The PAN M 360 team is crisscrossing the entire FME 2024 program, picking up as many artists as possible during this 22nd edition in the beautiful Rouyn-Noranda. So get ready. First off we have Orchestra Gold, TVOD, Last Waltzon.
Orchestra Gold: African Psych Rock under the night sky
by Stephan Boissonneault
As lead singer Mariam Diakite walked on stage, sporting a vintage blue and yellow-striped jumpsuit, the crowd at FME’s mainstage ventured closer and closer. It was as if giant invisible arms were gathering clusters of the crowd and dropping them in front of the stage. We were all transfixed under the psychedelic night. A sizable crowd developed by the time the band was three songs in. The other members of Orchestra Gold, matching Diakite in vibe and style, jumped into an African rock n’ roll; blistering guitar work and a steady rhythm and drum section. The music felt retro, a bit of Marvin Gaye meets Khurangbin and had flourishes of modern accompaniment—superbly hypnotic. The set was healing, a sound bath of sonic medicine, sung primarily in Bambara—a fantastic start to the night.
BODEGA WAS OUR BRAND
by Stephan Boissonneault
Bodega, New York’s scuzzy anti-capitalism post-punks may have the strangest, almost pretentious marketing structure—including a video essay on the concept of consumer culture—a band could have, but their live show is pure maddening fun. Two drummers playing a few pieces of a kit, fluttering lead guitar wankery, a bass player in his own world, and the satirical in-the-red vocals reminiscent of early Pavement. The band was infectious, playing songs off the latest, cleverly named Our Brand Could Be Yr Life and Broken Equipment. The music has a wonky, metallic, and punchy quality to it and though many of the songs are about the perils of capitalism (which does sound a bit overdone 2024, if not boring), the sounds cut through over the main stage. I’d say, given the right effort and drunken motivation, Bodega is a band that could be someone’s life.
Fatal Explosion Reported in Rouyn-Noranda: Last Waltzon at FME
by Lyle Hendriks
In the lurid haze of mid-to-late evening FME, I make my way to the dark, beer-stained Caberet de la Dernière Chance. Montreal agitators Last Waltzon are already onstage, shredding and screaming their way through their cavernous, noisy blend of post- and pop-punk. Movement is everything for Last Waltzon’s stage presence, though it’s less choreography and more a matter of writhing around as they force a jagged symphony out of their instruments. It’s incredibly loud, every drum hit cutting through the room as the guitars whip themselves into a fervor. Dual vocalists trade off lines with one another, a dialogue of cryptic messaging that conveys the emotional centre of their sound. Every Last Waltzon song comes from some kind of deep-seated need, some sort of feeling that comes out in a torrent of fury or not at all. Loud, irreverent, and brimming with energy, Last Waltzon is a pleasure to watch. Each powerful track is another psalm that urges you to move. The guy did a fucking backward somersault on stage while hitting a riff. What more could you want?
Bouge Pas gets us moving
by Stephan Boissonneault
The hidden alleyway off of Rouyn-Noranda’s downtown was witness to musical paroxysm in the form of Montreal garage punks, Bouge Pas. The character of this band live is held down by the dual drummers, who synced up like maniacal automatons. The bass was thick and this band loves to jam, going on outlandish tangents of guitar riffery that are well-rehearsed. The band wants us to think it’s all sporadic and unscripted, but for a punk band, this set was unbelievably tight. A flurry of Osees-esque art punk, a veritable whirlwind that will be ringing in the ears and minds of a Rouyn-Noranda for many days to come.
Dropping a Hero Dose of TVOD
by Lyle Hendriks
Do you ever notice that some punk bands are a little serious? Sometimes, it’s nice to get primal and release my tortured soul in a catharsis of violent music. But sometimes, what I really need is to watch six people having a lot of fun as they make some really loud noise. The word on my mind as I watched Television Overdose, or TVOD in Rouyn-Noranda’s Petit Theatre is ‘perceptive’. There’s a knowing wink behind every song, even as we’re blasted in the face by a minor orchestra’s worth of instrumentation. Frontman Tyler Wright offers us brilliant lyricism that’s delivered with satisfying diction, ensuring his words always cut through the often chaotic mix. I love watching a band that’s having fun, and TVOD delivered. At one point, Wright was surfing the crowd near the front, belting plosives and punctuation into the mic as the room carried him to his FME-themed Viking funeral. A little positive post-punk never hurts, especially when it’s this rowdy and easy to love. In the end, a quick hit of TVOD was just what I needed to get through the end of my first night at this year’s FME.
Photos by Stephan Boissonneault & Jacob Zweig
