Wolf Alice dominated the stage at their Osheaga set. Dripping in sweat, the four-piece English rock band sang a perfect mix of old and new songs. Ellie Rowsell is an angelic rebel. She sings with such precision and a vibrato that could cut glass, all the while with a pissed-off scowl on her face, a true force to be reckoned with. The band was unrelenting for their whole set, giving the crowd everything they wanted: heavy, distorted bass and familiar, catchy guitar riffs.
Ellie switched from her microphone to a megaphone to sing “Yuk Foo,” a two-minute song that has no low points, screaming “I don’t give a shit” right from her gut. They played “Play the Greatest Hits” with Rowsell shouting “It isn’t loud enough” down on her knees. She absolutely owned the space, using every inch of it as her stomping ground.
The crowd was eating every song up. They did what they could with a short set time, which was to keep the energy high from start to finish. I saw friends embracing each other during “Bros” and lovers kissing during “Don’t Delete the Kisses.” Each song pulled a new emotion out of the audience. They were super tight and absolutely did not disappoint.
Psyops or not, I plant myself on those Roman Colosseum steps at the Forest stage to watch Geese do whatever it is Geese does to people. I’m surprised the place isn’t wall-to-wall—turns out a big chunk of the Osheaga crowd would rather be somewhere shouting along to Twenty One Pilots, which, fine — that’s a choice a person can make… Might be the wrong one, but c’est la vie.
Still, Cameron Winter and Co. have a magnetic energy to them, slowly pulling other members of the crowd and me into the Forest stage slough during the opener “Husbands,” as a silver projection of the word GEESE rotates to the pull of the earth—or the young rock group’s chemistry meszmer.
Winter’s voice sounds like he’s making a pact with the devil—morphing between a dissonant growl and an angelic falsetto— and he carries himself with just enough slacker indifference to make the whole thing feel dangerous in a good way. I’ve had Getting Killed on repeat basically all year, so I knew the goose was going to be loose live, but nothing prepared me for what they do to “Cobra” or “Half Real” onstage — the songs get pulled apart, vocals and instruments going feral, until nothing’s recognizable anymore, right up until Winter waves the band to hit the all-knowing crescendo. At one point, he just plays Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” off his phone, mid-set, no explanation, before slamming into the bridge of “2122” off 3D Country. — just the madness of rock’n’roll.
“I thought we had five minutes left, turns out we’ve got twenty,” Winter laughs, before easing into “Au Pays du Cocaine” and that bright, arresting little guitar riff. Someone in the crowd screams “PLAY TAXES,” and Winter, obliging as ever, lets the band tear into their little opus on human malaise. They close with “Trinidad,” Winter ad-libbing some nonsense from his ever-expanding personal lexicon before screaming “there’s a bomb in my car” over and over, like some pendulum that’s lost its mind and can’t stop swinging. Psyops or not — Geese has got the stuff.
OSHEAGA 2026 | Blood Orange Pokes A Hole in the Clouds
by Stephan Boissonneault
The second Wet Leg finish detonating their little post-punk firecracker set, the bass line off Blood Orange’s “I Wanna C U” comes slithering over from the Mountain stage, like it’s daring you to notice. Devonté Hynes and his crew — drummer, keys, two backup singers who could probably start their own congregation at this point — blow through that minute-long teaser and dump us straight into “Saint,” off Negro Swan. I half-expected some earlier cuts off the new one, Essex Honey, because that’s what you’re supposed to do—promote the new album, but Hynes has never met a rulebook he didn’t want to torch. I see he’s got large over-ear studio headphones on during the whole set — once a producer, always a producer.
At some point I swear I can hear a Björk cover ghost through the mix, though that might’ve just been the edible talking in my inner ear. Hynes starts shredding like he’s got Freddie King’s ghost riding shotgun, all halcyon blues-dad guitar tone, murmuring his lyrics like he’s not sure the crowd deserves to hear them yet. Then the rain shows up right on cue — of course it does — just as the band eases into “Somewhere In Between,” easily the best track off the new record. Hynes drops the guitar for synths and lets his singers take over, and honestly, they’ve got the kinds of range that makes you a little angry on behalf of every band they’re not fronting yet.
Hynes fades into the background for a stretch, content to be a guy on a stage, until he picks up his reverb-drenched electric cello and does something that felt, chemically assisted or not, divine—like poking a hole in the sky and letting a little sun through to say hello. We get one or two more from Essex Honey, including the childlike wonder of “Countryside,” and he finishes with “Champagne Coast,” which is cut off halfway by the festival gods. Blood Orange did start five minutes late, but did you really have to do the man dirty like that? Shit, that was a good set, though. On to the next.
There’s always a self-appointed king of soul crowned at Osheaga, and this year the throne tilted toward Leon Bridges on a slot too early for his own gravity. He arrived like as a rumour, last-minute, mid-afternoon, blue Adidas tracksuit and matching shoes, glowing like a UV signal flare against the stage.
His backup singers shimmered in tropical green and gold, a small humid ecosystem behind him, and during “Tears of Joy” their voices curled up like sweet, sweet steam It was so, so familiar, I could’ve sworn I’d heard it in another life. Turns out it’s brand new, a preview of Leon Bridges’ Happiness Anytime, out September,
already haunting the air waves.
Bridges is like Marvin Gaye reincarnated through a fun-house mirror — same velvet phrasing, but his feet do something ancestral and alien at the same time. Mid-song, mid-sentence almost, he’ll slip into a moonwalk or a camel walk. He and his band clearly rehearse a shit ton. “Good Thing” arrived stitched between newer tracks, seams barely visible, Bridges’ gravity optional the whole time. We gotta give props to the horn section, and I’m sure they played “The River” or “Texas Sun,” but many company and I had to make our way to check out Wolf Alice. So it goes at the festival. Still, Leon Bridges was the perfect opener for my Osh this year.
Nuits d’Afrique 2026 | Somos Más: A Celebration of Memory, Community, and Resistance
by Juliana Cortes
Thursday, July 16, the musical collective Somos Más filled the Scène Loto-Québec at the Festival International Nuits d’Afrique. One by one, each woman took the stage, performing body percussion and harmonizing their voices. Singers from Peru, Chile, Bolivia, the Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Brazil, and Morocco shared their talent, and we had no idea what was coming next.
They performed songs spanning a variety of musical genres, including rancheras, cumbias, festejo, and Chilean and Bolivian folk music. Some were original compositions by members of the group, while others were songs that many Latin Americans would recognize from their childhood. For me, these genres were the soundtrack to parties, road trips, family reunions, and the most important ritual in my family, which took place every weekend: cleaning. Somos Más transported me back to these everyday moments that, now that I live so far from home, have become cherished memories.
Photo Credit: Ivan Arturo Escobar M
I was deeply moved to witness these women, who all, for different reasons, ended up in Montreal and created this beautiful project together. They reminded me that, even though Latin America is a vast and diverse region, we can still connect by recognizing ourselves in one another’s realities.
Somos Más offered an intimate performance. We could see the complicity, sisterhood, vulnerability, and solidarity they spoke about in their interview. Whenever one member stepped into the spotlight, the others supported her with their voices and instruments, but I could also see how proud they were of whoever was leading or performing a solo. The percussionist, who recently joined the group and is of Moroccan origin, captivated me with her talent and remarkable versatility as she effortlessly followed the group’s exploration of multiple musical traditions.
Photo Credit: Ivan Arturo Escobar M
As the performance unfolded, I never knew what to expect. I felt a comforting warmth, as though I were at a house party with my closest friends, alongside deep admiration for each artist’s authenticity and a sense of wonder with every surprise they brought to the stage.
Somos Más collaborated with dancers Carmen and Paula from Girovago Productions, who accompanied the group with cumbia and contemporary dance before leading an interactive moment that invited the audience to dance as well. The dancers’ graceful movements and warm presence helped us connect even more deeply with the music of Somos Más. The group also collaborated with Centro Cultural Kusiy, whose performers presented the Bolivian dances saya and tinku. Stomping their feet in rhythmic unison, the Kusiy dancers grounded the music, connecting it to the earth and to the Indigenous roots of Latin America.
Photo Credit: Ivan Arturo Escobar M
For the finale, all of the dancers joined Somos Más to perform a medley of three beloved Latin American songs: Cariñito, Canción y Huayno, and Adiós Pueblo de Ayacucho, with part of the lyrics sung in Quechua. One of the Kusiy dancers moved across the stage carrying the Wiphala flag, a symbol representing the Indigenous nations of the Andean region. It was a powerful closing, bringing together musicians, dancers, and singers in a celebration of Indigenous peoples, whose cultures are essential not only to Latin American history but also to the very DNA of its present-day identity.
I experienced this performance as an invitation to embrace these connections. Whether through a shared love of music or a shared connection to Latin America, we can lean into one another through solidarity, community, and art.
Nuits d’Afrique 2026 | Suraras dos Tapajós: Connecting Us to the Amazon Forest Through Music
by Juliana Cortes
For the 40th anniversary of the Festival Nuits d’Afrique, the organisers decided to dedicate the 7 p.m. show to female artists. This year, the series opened with Suraras dos Tapajós, an Indigenous women’s musical group from the Pará region of Brazil. Having this group perform was quite a privilege for Montrealers. It is not every day that we get to connect with traditional music from the Amazon, a region that many of us have never visited. Yet we recognize it as one of the most important tropical forests on the planet, now under imminent threat from deforestation, with serious consequences for Indigenous communities, biodiversity, and the global climate.
The group entered the stage wearing their traditional garments and headpieces. One of the members was playing a small ceramic wind instrument called an “ocarina,” which mimics the sounds of birds. As each woman took her place and picked up her instrument, I could only think about what this concert would be like in their territory, surrounded by the forest. Each member performed with her whole being. Their music carried their ancestry and their commitment to defending Indigenous women’s rights and territory. The group quickly created an atmosphere of celebration. They invited the audience to form a roda, or dancing circle, where people could enter the middle and dance with one another. The Brazilian community was full of joy, recognizing one another in the dance, hugging each other, and connecting.
In the middle of their performance, the sky became cloudy and the atmosphere grew quite windy. Earlier that day, we could barely see the sun because of the smoke generated by the wildfires Quebec, and Ontario. Suraras dos Tapajós’ concert was canceled because of the risk of lightning. Rain began to fall, bringing relief from the heat while leaving us disappointed that we could not watch the entire concert. As this sudden sequence of events unfolded, I returned to the Amazon I had been imagining. Every summer, wildfires seem to become more present here in Canada, sadly affecting Indigenous communities in Canada. Like the communities in the Amazon confronting environmental devastation, many Indigenous nations in Canada are also disproportionately affected by increasingly severe wildfires, facing evacuations, threats to their territories, and disruptions to cultural and everyday life. At that moment, the distance between the Amazon and Canada felt much smaller.
Fortunately, the next day Suraras dos Tapajós led a workshop where they shared that the group emerged from a community organization. The musical group is its major project; however, they also have bio-economic projects and textile production. The group specializes in carimbó, the principal cultural manifestation of the region—an ancestral dance centred around the drum of the same name that blends Indigenous and African traditions. Practiced in a circle that brings together musicians and community members, carimbó helps keep culture alive through songs about everyday life, nature, and spirituality.
The group was able to perform again, this time on the ground, where the distance between stage and audience disappeared, leaving only a shared circle of music and movement. We all formed a circle and were invited to join the roda, wear their skirts, and dance together as one of the members guided us. I appreciated having this more intimate moment with the group because it allowed us to connect more directly and experience this tradition more closely. I only wished there had been more time to talk about what is happening in their territory, how we could amplify their commitment to protecting the Amazon forest, and how their struggles resonate with what is happening here in Canada. As the wildfires continue to remind us that forests in Canada are also under threat, I hope there will be more opportunities to build these connections, because they are where understanding—and action—begins.
Lanaudière 2026 | Explosion of colours and emotions thanks to Payare, Weilerstein, Ortiz, and Shostakovich
by Frédéric Cardin
The concert on Saturday evening at the Amphithéâtre de Lanaudière featured a stunning performance by the Orchestre symphonique de Montréal (OSM), conducted by Rafael Payare, in formidable technical and expressive form. On the program: Egmont by Beethoven, Dzonot (a cello concerto) by Gabriela Ortiz, and Shostakovich’s Tenth Symphony.
Before launching into the scheduled music, the orchestra performed a piece by Antonio Estevez (1916-1988), Mediodía en el Llano, in tribute to the victims of the earthquake that occurred in Venezuela on June 24. The title, which means Midday in the Plain, effectively evokes the enveloping heat of the tropical sun, in an elegiac and beautifully lyrical language, somewhat like a film score. The OSM fully succeeded in creating the desired radiance. The music was followed by a minute of silence, which was fully respected by the audience. It should be noted that the introduction of the piece was made by cellist Alisa Weilerstein in English, Spanish, and French (very good).
Beethoven’s Egmont was meticulously constructed by Payare and his musicians, culminating in an elegantly heroic finale, slender yet appropriately muscular.
Dzonot by Gabriela Ortiz (born in 1964) is a cello concerto premiered in 2024 by Alisa Weilerstein. The work also won a Grammy Award for Best Classical Composition of the Year. We understand why. Ortiz’s music is a true expressionist firework that pays homage to the nature of her country. The composition is divided into four movements: Luz vertical (Vertical Light) for the cenotes (very deep water-filled sinkholes); El ojo del Jaguar (The Eye of the Jaguar); Jade, in reference to the vibrant colour of underground rivers in certain regions of Mexico; and El vuelo de Toh (The Flight of Toh), which evokes a colourful bird that is endangered.
The score by Ortiz pulses with a feverish energy. The orchestra is pushed to the limit of its coloristic subtleties. The technical difficulty is impressive, and only a top-tier orchestra can do it justice. That was the case on Saturday. Payare drew the best from the OSM and the many rhythmically difficult passages. In certain passages, one felt like dancing with the musicians. But the biggest nod goes to the soloist Alisa Weilerstein, for whom the composer has woven lines and soundscapes of a savage difficulty. Nothing to slow down the American artist, who showcased the vastness of her talent without a hitch. Dzonot is a true gem of orchestration, a contemporary music that knows how to charm and dare at the same time, filled with lyrical traits, swaying episodes, and bursts of contemporary expressionism naturally integrated into the narrative fabric.
The main piece arrived after an interminable pause where the conductor, ready to start the music, had to wait a few long minutes for the entire audience to settle down and fall silent. As they say, everything comes to those who wait, and in this case, everything came together masterfully. Payare is deeply inhabited by the soul of this music. He constructs a world steeped in melancholy and gloom, but powerfully imbued with humanity and emotions. The slow episodes are fortunately not too emphasised, which would weigh them down. They breathe abundantly and very naturally. The conductor guides them through the stormy passages, where he unleashes the power of his orchestra. A paroxysmal power, but always controlled. The sound quality is breathtaking. Let’s note the exceptional solos of all the winds called upon for this purpose (flute/piccolo, clarinet, oboe, English horn, bassoon/contrabassoon, horn).
An absolute masterpiece interpreted at the height of its intentions. For the first of the concerts that the OSM will give in Lanaudière, Rafael Payare has just set the bar very, very high.
It is with this program (in part) that the OSM will go on a European tour in August. I think the audiences in Edinburgh, Warsaw, Aarhus, and Hamburg will get their money’s worth.
Nuits d’Afrique 2026 | Chris Combette: the groovy elegance of the Guyanese troubadour
by Frédéric Cardin
With nearly fifty years of musical career, singer and composer Chris Combette was passing through the 2026 International Nuits d’Afrique Festival. He was on the Balattou stage on July 15th, with his “Angels,” Patrick Plénet on bass, Aymeric Létard on keyboards, and Éric Valérius on drums.
It is a complete, authentic, and experienced know-how and way of life that Combette presents from the very first notes. We hear a fairly complete panorama of the titles that have made his success over half a century, from La Danse de Flore to Maroni, passing through Salambô, Lè siel si ba, Lévanjil dan bouch (a sharp critique of religious colonisation, on swaying rhythms – “they left us the Bible, and took the gold”), Les Enfants de Gorée, and many others. A very generous program over two sets of more than an hour each.
Songs that talk about life, love, everyday life in Guadeloupe, French Guiana, or elsewhere in the Caribbean, stories that are told there, a bit like a Provençal troubadour did in mediaeval France. All of this to the rhythms of 20th-century Afro-descendant music, reggae, cumbia, Creole folk, a bit of zouk.
The man presents his songs with a calm humour and a class that is noticeable in all those artists from a generation of gentlemen who knew how to express themselves with restraint and a lot of honesty. Seeing and listening to him, I thought of the great Henri Salvador, who had that kind of educated charm.
If you want to get a (very) good idea of the concert, listen to his album Chris Combette & Angels – the Live released last January. It was almost exactly what we had on Wednesday evening.
Nuits d’Afrique 2026 I African Circus Courtesy of Kalabanté Hits Different
by Stephan Boissonneault
The journey begins with six drummers, pounding on different-sized drums, and soon a breathtaking kora solo clings to the air. The kora player shouts something, and other performers—acrobats, trapeze artists, and contortionists—flip onto the stage.
Yamoussa Bangoura is not only a majestic and world-class kora player, but he is also the artistic director of Kalabanté, a circus school and international show production company. Under the name Afrique en Cirque, Bangoura and about 18 other performers took the Scène TD audience through a journey into the heart of West Africa, with some more modern additions, for the festival’s 40th anniversary. Soon, a tower of people holds up one performer as he balances his arm on the head of another, about 30 feet in the air.
Bangoura is the de facto leader of each performance—singing, playing kora, or hand drums—while another drummer and bass player (who seem never to rest) keep the music going. My only critique is that the saxophone and guitar solos were all pre-recorded, but the rest of the instrumentation was performed live. Why not just have a saxophonist or guitar player dressed in costume as well?
We’re all witnesses to a human pyramid and two contortionists who thrash against a long rope, while dislocating joints, spinning their heads and torsos in what should be impossible fashion, while some Afro blues jazz takes up the scene. I’ve personally seen the Russian, Aleksei Goloborodko (named the best contortionist in the world) during Cirque du Soleil, and these Kalabanté contortionists are easily on par with him.
Halfway into the performance, Bangoura and about six other absolutely shredded dudes dressed as construction workers begin what I can only call the “Magic Mike” portion of the set. They didn’t strip per se, nor did they need to, performing acrobatics on planks of wood and doing some pretty suggestive hand gestures to the beat of the African blues music. The crowd loved it. Next, we have more acrobatics with people flipping over other performers.
At times, it feels chaotic, but it then ends with two human towers, 40 feet in the air, falling in unison onto the mats. I think the reason the troupe doesn’t have a live saxophone or lead guitar is that they need the music to be on a loop so Bangoura and the other performers can queue up the next part of the show. There were a few moments that seemed to continue until the performers got it right. But hey, this is show business and sometimes the production doesn’t always work out the very first time. Either way, Kalabanté brought the heat and created a very memorable Nuits d’Afrique performance.
Nuits d’Afrique 2026 | The Two Enriches its Creole blues
by Sandra Gasana
They may be called The Two, but they’ll be performing as a quartet on Monday night at Club Balattou as part of the 40th edition of the Nuits d’Afrique International Festival. Yannick Nanette and Thierry Jaccard were the original members of the duo, but along the way, Loris Martenet joined them, and just recently, a new member came on board. This latest member is a longtime friend of Yannick’s, and after 20 years without contact, they reconnected via Facebook a few years ago—and… the rest is history.
Unlike their first performance at Balattou several months ago, adding the keyboard was an excellent idea and breathed new life into their repertoire. Nanette is from Mauritius, Jaccard from Switzerland, and together they transport us to a world of “blues from the south, from the Indian Ocean,” as Nanette so aptly described it. Alluding to the various types of Creole languages around the world—including, in their view, Quebec Creole—several songs had titles with a French ring to them but in a modified form. For example, the title “Tiombo” actually means “Hang in there.”
There were several musical exchanges between Yannick and Thierry’s many guitars, almost spiritual rhythms inspired by sounds from Mauritius and the surrounding region, with percussion that took us in all directions. A banjo added a folk touch to the blues, with a triangle occasionally chiming in to round out the sound.
We were also celebrating Yannick’s 44th birthday that evening, and in fact, the birthday boy’s family was in the audience. Yannick’s sister even took the stage to sing a chorus with her brother—a tender moment that was greatly appreciated by the audience.
The song “Fam Couma Ou,” which means “a woman like you,” also went over well with the audience, who were struggling to resist dancing. The Two shift seamlessly from gentle to intense, transporting us at will into their world. The percussion helps create depth, and Yannick’s harmonica finds its place within it all, while the audience turns into a veritable choir on several occasions throughout the evening.
Another traditional instrument, the kayamb—a sort of wooden board similar to the one played on Réunion Island—was also featured in the show.
My neighbours, who are of Haitian descent, told me that they understood almost all the lyrics sung in Creole. At times, you could sense a trance-like atmosphere on stage, especially during Thierry’s intense solos, before the performance continued with moments of tenderness. “Mo ale” and “Lao”—a tribute to those who have passed away—were my favourites of the evening.
“I’m 44 today, but I remember when you were 33 and we performed at the Montreux Festival: It’s still just as much a pleasure to work with you,” Thierry confided amid the audience’s applause.
Publicité panam
PRIMAVERA SOUND – PORTO 2026 : The Big Little Festival on a Human Scale
by Patrick Baillargeon
Launched in 2012 as the first international spin-off of Barcelona’s now-famous Primavera Sound, Primavera Sound Porto quickly forged its own identity. The event features concerts in an urban park overlooking the Atlantic, with a capacity of around 35,000 people per day. Held in the vast Parque da Cidade, the Portuguese festival opts for a more intimate and accessible format than its Spanish parent festival.
The 13th edition of Primavera Sound Porto recently took place from the 11th to the 14th June 2026. Spanning four days, the line-up offered a wide range of styles, alternating between afro-jazz, noise, indie rock, indie folk, fado, punk, electro, neo-soul, trip-hop, socially conscious hip-hop, experimental music and Iberian flavours. True to its eclectic formula, this year’s Portuguese festival brought together 55 artists on a line-up headlined by The xx, returning fourteen years after their last appearance at the festival; Gorillaz, who were there to promote their latest album The Mountain; and Massive Attack.
Then, alongside these headliners, were IDLES, Big Thief, Ethel Cain, Bad Gyal, JADE, KNEECAP, Yard Act, Slowdive, Sudan Archives, Panda Bear, Gisela João, Criolo, Joey Valence & Brae, Melt-Banana and Viagra Boys. Ninajirachi, Texas Is The Reason, Black Country, New Road, Model/Actriz, Nation of Language, Bad Gyal, Triángulo de Amor Bizarro and Portuguese artists such as NAPA, PAUS Emmy Curl, Rita Vian, Capicua, Sensible Soccers and Inês Marques Lucas, amongst others… Obviously, we couldn’t see everything. But we tried. Out of the thirty or so concerts I managed to attend, let’s focus on three. One for each day: Thursday, Friday, Saturday.
Banned from performing in the United States, Canada and many other countries due to their political stances – particularly regarding the Israeli-Palestinian conflict – the show by the controversial Belfast hip-hop trio at Primavera was therefore unmissable. Whilst their incisive rap and aggressive beats are certainly worth listening to on record, it’s undoubtedly on stage that the magic happens. Fuelled by punk energy, defiant lyrics and biting humour, the band is one of the most original voices on the new Irish scene. Every track hits the mark, with the band giving the audience no respite. Somewhere between Sleaford Mods, Slowthai and The Streets, KNEECAP have found their own path, blending these influences with a typically Irish rebellious and defiant spirit. This ban on their concerts in Canada is utterly ridiculous, particularly when you realise just how essential this band is. On that note, the docu-drama KNEECAP, which traces the trio’s rather unique story, is well worth the 100 or so minutes you’ll spend watching it..
Apart from the wild concert by the Viagra Boys – whom I was seeing for the fourth time and who put on a truly off-the-wall and intense performance – it was Baxter Dury’s set that really stood out for me, and that I was really looking forward to catch. The son of the legendary Ian Dury has established himself as a key figure in contemporary British pop, and, strangely enough, he’s never played a gig in Montreal… It’s highly time to put a stop to that, as he’s a real force on stage, fully embodying his persona as a decadent playboy crooner – a sort of unlikely cross between Bukowski, Gainsbourg, Sleaford Mods (them again) and, of course, his famous father, from whom Baxter takes after greatly, particularly in his vocal delivery. The apple never falls far from the tree.
Since the early 2000s, the singer-songwriter has cultivated a unique style, blending spoken word, pop, rock and electro in songs – or rather, short stories – that are elegant, ironic and cinematic. His eight albums, notably Floor Show (2005), Happy Soup (2011), Prince of Tears (2017), The Night Chancers (2020), I Thought I Was Better Than You (2023) and Albarone (2025), have cemented his status as a standout artist on the British independent scene. His show is a distillation of all these albums, featuring the unmissable “Miami,” “Cocaine Man,” “I’m Not Your Dog” and the highly danceable and dynamic “Albarone,” which had the crowd on their feet at the end of the concert.
Almost two decades after the Beastie Boys split up, Mike D’s return to the stage was eagerly awaited by the New York trio’s many fans. It was known that an album had been completed, and it was precisely this debut solo effort, Thank You (scheduled for release on the 28th of August), that Mike D came to promote on stage. He was accompanied by the 5D – his sons Skyler and Davis Diamond (who also form the electro-pop duo Very Nice Person) – alongside Eddie and Milo Ruscha and guitarist Will Graefe.
All dressed in orange-red and bouncing from one side of the stage to the other like a bunch of hyperactive rabbits, the 5D worked their way through the ten tracks on Thank You, some far more captivating (the bass-heavy “What We Got”) than others (the long and rather unremarkable title track, “Thank You”). Having kicked things off with a Beastie Boys track (a wildly energetic “Hello Brooklyn”), Mike D and his band wrapped things up with the unmissable “So What’cha Want,” virtually identical to the original and which sent the crowd into a frenzy. But the real highlight of this rather energetic concert was their flawless rendition of the Delta 5’s ‘Mind Your Own Business’. A completely unexpected cover, a little nod that proves that from D5 to Delta 5, it’s just one (dance) step away.
A good festival depends largely on its line-up, its vision and its artistic direction, but also on the audience and the venue. As for the Portuguese section of Primavera, the decision to feature artists who have been established for several years attracts a much less youthful crowd than you might find at events such as Osheaga, to stick with a familiar example. And the difference is striking. The atmosphere is more laid-back, people are calmer, and so the listening experience is all the more enjoyable.
With a maximum daily capacity of 35,000 people, Porto’s Primavera Sound remains a major festival, yet on a human scale; there are none of the massive, dehumanizing crowds found at certain other major events in Europe or North and South America. There’s no oppressive, ever-present security here, nor any aggression, so it’s no surprise to see many people enjoying the festival with their families. What’s more, the site is well-designed and pleasant, just a stone’s throw from the ocean yet right in the heart of the city, and there’s no one to complain about the concerts going on until the small hours… So the party doesn’t come to an abrupt end at 11 pm or midnight, like some other cities… There you have it: all the ingredients for a captivating and memorable festival. The team behind Porto’s Primavera Sound have understood this perfectly and have maintained this approach and artistic vision for thirteen editions, tirelessly and flawlessly. Add in good weather and warm temperatures, and the equation is perfect.
knitting, frown line, and Fireball Kid Tear Up Sala Rossa
by Stephan Boissonneault
I love a bill stacked with local bands, and if Montreal has an abundance of anything, it’s local bands. Knitting’s album release show for their new record, Souvenir (Mint Records), felt more intimate than your typical Sala show. A makeshift stage sat on the floor, buried under gear, and the crowd — which swelled after opener Fireball Kid — kept inching closer between sets. Amazing turnout for a Thursday with a stellar lineup.
Fireball Kid, fresh off their own terrific release, Deer Path To A Shortcut, opened with infectious energy. Singer and synth player Colin Ratchford told the crowd the band was down a member — his other half, Seth O’Neill, on backing vocals — so he’d be pulling friends from the audience instead. One of them was none other than local KT Laine, who came up to harmonize on “At Your Leisure.” I’ve seen Fireball Kid three times now, and this new shoegazey dance-rock incarnation is easily my favourite version of the band. The crowd agreed, hollering the lyrics to “Guilt Drive” and the tearjerker “King Of The Lake” straight back at Ratchford and company.
Fireball Kid
Next up was frown line, the mainstay bedroom-indie-rock project of Annika Devlin, who fronts one of the best-mixed live bands in Montreal. Devlin’s vocals slice through like a scalpel through wallpaper, while behind her, walls of ’90s alt-rock guitar pile up and threaten to swallow the room whole. The newest iteration of the band now has Jacob Barton on lead guitar, adding a more sporadic streak of guitar wizardry to the mix. New music has been scarce from frown line the last few years, but they debuted a newer track, easily the danciest thing we’ve heard from the group yet. They closed, of course, with the grungey barn-burner “Days Without.” Always good.
Frown line
Finally, knitting took the stage, dragging Souvenir‘s guitar-forward glow behind them like a comet tail. This is the record where the band fully molts into their own strange skin—angsty grungegaze that sounds and feels like a bruise. Knitting’s been circling this city for years now, sharpening its teeth on smaller rooms, and somewhere in that slow grind the riffs got weirder— fronts of noise rolling in low and strange, then clearing just enough for Mischa Dempsey’s voice to wander through like someone talking to themselves in a hallway of mirrors. It’s half-poem, half-static catharsis.
The set tilted heavier as it went, gravity pulling the whole room down into it, and “Sequel” arrived like a door left open in a dream you can’t quite place. That song just gets me. “I Want to Remember Everything” followed, all jagged tenderness. Both songs landed with the same physics as the album versions, but heavier and thicker, songs that have been played live many times, left out in the rain and swelled. And just like frown line before them, knitting’s live mix threaded that needle between piercing and pleasant — a sound that presses against your sternum and stays with you.
