It’s always a pleasure to catch a show from PyPy, Montreal’s most eclectic and fearless freakout foursome. I’ve seen them play tiny bars in deep, rural Quebec and big venues in Montreal’s Plateau, and I can confidently say that nothing will deter this synth-punk-rock-etcetera group from absolutely losing it at the earliest opportunity. So as I pull up to watch PyPy enact their violent conquest of the Osheaga stage, it’s no surprise that their first move is to pull all the stops.
PyPy’s frenetic frontwoman, Annie-Claude Deschênes, is a magnate of vocalist energy and performance. No matter the venue, you can count on Deschênes to find a bar to stand on, a drink to appropriate, and, in this case, a bachelor party zebra-print cowboy hat to borrow. By midway through the first track, she’s hopped down off the stage and folded in half in the midst of a small but growing crowd. She singles out members of the audience and commands them to dance, compelling us with wide eyes and jerky movements, transforming into an edgy animal that might bolt or bite at any moment.
Meanwhile, she’s supported by her outstanding band. Simon Besré is like a god of thunder on the drums, explosive tom fills and snare hits and threatening to liquefy us while the driving, anxious bass of Philippe Clement tosses us from port to starboard with every bar. Roy Vucino, meanwhile, is like a man possessed on guitar, often joining Deschênes in the crowd, kneeling over his instrument as he shreds with the strength and energy of four lesser players.
Once again, PyPy has proven their claim as Montreal’s most righteous rock band, and this latest incursion into the sanitized scene of Osheaga shows that their holy war is well underway.
Photos courtesy of Oshega / Julio Alejandro
