First MTELUS in the sights for Jonah Guimond, aka P’tit Belliveau. After four Club Soda gigs in one year, it was time to get down to business. The real deal. And as the challenge was met with flying colors by the merry Acadian troupe, oh yes.
P’tit Belliveau is now entering the big leagues, finally treading the boards of this Montreal temple. A far cry from the young, fiery Jonah Guimond of Les Grosses Coques, who confined himself to his sometimes limited country-pop sympathies. The native of Baie Sainte-Marie, Nova Scotia, has reaffirmed himself all the more in this particularly audacious artist, who makes a mockery of industry codes and is devilishly entertaining.
P’tit Belliveau kicks off his show with Depuis que la neige a fondu and Moosehorn Lake, from his first two projects. Alternating throughout the show between banjo and electric guitar, he presents a majority of songs from his new album, the namesake P’tit Belliveau, exploring pop-punk corners à la Blink-182 as much as metal or rap avenues. Bold, I tell you.
“If there’s one person in the room who’s not singing, I’ll take my music off Spotify and stop the show,” he warns, before performing the gritty Mon drapeau acadjonne viens d’Taïwan. There’s everything you want in a P’tit Belliveau concert. Want a laugh? Check out the projections behind the band, featuring everything from exercising frogs to John Deere tractors. Want to be baffled? Let yourself be surprised by a baffling extramusical interlude where a wrestler, out of nowhere, comes on stage to fight the band, only to be brought down by a shirtless P’tit Belliveau – “Never fuck with P’tit Belliveau. Ever,” he adds afterwards. Prefer to move? Go to the front of the stage, among his faithful followers throwing mosh pits to absolutely anything. There’s something for everyone.
Hats off to the accompanying musicians, particularly talented and entertaining with their wacky choreography and their mandolin and fiddle solos galore. Two members of the delirious punk quartet Peanut Butter Sunday (Normand Pothier and Jacques Blinn) have been playing with P’tit Belliveau on stage for some time now, which may explain the rock bent Guimond is increasingly exploiting in his compositions.
The Acadian artist closes the regular part of his show with RRSP/Grosse pièce, from his second album, then returns to the stage for an excellent encore mixing children’s songs (L’arbre est dans ses feuilles), new material (L’église de St. Bernard) and old hits (J’aimerais d’avoir un John Deere and, of course, Income Tax). The audience wants more and more, forcing the band to come back and jam for a few minutes for a second, seemingly impromptu encore.
P’tit Belliveau reiterated several times in the show how grateful he is to count on the unfailing support of his public and his chums, for so many years (something he already said in Demain). Thanks to you, P’tit Belliveau, for proposing such a singular offering in a local industry that’s often too standardized. Quite simply, one of today’s finest Franco-Canadian artists.
