The Saints of Today are not Yesterday’s Saints

by Patrick Baillargeon

Whether you’re into punk or rock and roll, The Saints should need no introduction, and yet… even today, the Brisbane combo remains largely unknown to the general public. But among thrill seekers, the band is legendary. That’s why several fans from Montreal and elsewhere didn’t hesitate to travel to Toronto to attend this unexpected Saints concert in Canada. Well, what’s left of the Saints, that is: drummer Ivor Hay and prodigious guitarist Ed Kuepper, the mastermind behind the Saints’ sound.

With singer Chris Bailey and bassist Algy Ward canonized in the afterlife, the two remaining members put together an unstoppable version of The Saints, recruiting Mark Arm from Mudhoney, a singer whose tone is different from Bailey’s but who can perform the songs with intensity and genuine passion. Mick Harvey (Birthday Party, Bad Seeds) was the natural choice to help reproduce the additional parts played on the albums, whether on guitar or keyboards. Bassist Peter Oxley (Sunnyboys) has long been Kuepper’s collaborator on various projects. This new version of the band, dubbed The Saints ’73-’78, is rounded out by a horn section: Eamon Dilworth (trumpet), Julian Wilson (tenor saxophone), and Mark Spencer (baritone saxophone). The goal: to pick up where the original band left off in 1978, performing songs from their first three albums, those with Kuepper on six strings: (I’m) Stranded (1977), Eternally Yours (1978) and Prehistoric Sounds (1978).

After a successful first Australian tour in 2024, The Saints ’73-’78 made their US debut in November, stopping off in Toronto for the only Canadian date on the tour. This is the first time that songs from the original band and their three albums, as well as their respective EPs and singles, have been performed in North America.

Canonization

For those wondering who we’re talking about, here’s a quick recap. Between 1973 and 1978, The Saints laid the foundations for their legend. In September 1976, they self-produced “(I’m) Stranded,” a seminal single that preceded the first releases by the Sex Pistols, the Damned, the Buzzcocks, and the Clash. Their first album was released in February 1977. The band then left Brisbane for Sydney, then moved to London, where, as an introduction, they performed at the Roundhouse as the opening act for the Ramones. Bassist Kym Bradshaw left shortly after to join The Lurkers; Algy Ward took his place.

In the following year, The Saints released This Perfect Day and the EP 1-2-3-4, then began to shift towards a fuller sound, tinged with R&B and sometimes supported by a brass section. Eternally Yours and Prehistoric Sounds were released in 1978. The band broke up shortly afterwards.

Chris Bailey continued the adventure under the name The Saints for four decades, shifting towards a mix of folk and R&B. Ed Kuepper, the musical mastermind of the early days, returned to Australia, founded the Laughing Clowns, released numerous solo albums, composed soundtracks, returned to rock with The Aints/The Aints!, collaborated with Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, explored experimental jazz with Asteroid Ekosystem, and most recently released After the Flood with drummer Jim White. Drummer Ivor Hay made a few occasional returns to Bailey’s Saints and formed the band Wildlife Documentaries. As for Algy Ward, he went on to join The Damned.

73-78… 2025

Although there were a few sporadic reunions of The Saints (in 2001 and 2007), these were limited to a few concerts in Australia. Following the death of singer Chris Bailey in 2022 (and bassist Algy Ward the following year), guitarist Ed Kuepper and drummer Ivor Hay decided to form a band that could best represent the songs performed on the Brisbane band’s first three albums.

That’s what we saw at Toronto’s Phoenix Concert Theater on November 13. Preceded by local band Gloin (sorry, we arrived too late), the Saints quietly took the stage shortly after 9 p.m. and immediately launched into a flawless brass-heavy rendition of “Swing For The Crime,” except for some poorly adjusted sound. The problem was fixed by the second song, the incisive “No Time,” from their first album. “This Perfect Day” (or night, in our case) followed without delay, setting the tone for what was to come. In all, there were 19 songs, including, of course, the unavoidable “(I’m) Stranded,” “The Prisoner,” “No,” “Know Your Product,” “Brisbane (Security City)” and a finale culminating in the furious “Demolition Girl” and “Nights in Venice.”

However, the crowd wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as expected. The atmosphere in this venerable concert hall, which has seen many notable acts since its first shows in 1991 (and which will close its doors for good at the end of the year), wasn’t as wild as one might have hoped. It must be said that the concert was far from sold out… As for the band, they didn’t seem particularly excited about this (only) show in Canada. Not very talkative (like most of the rest of the band, for that matter), Mark Arm contented himself with slipping in a few words here and there, clinging to his microphone stand throughout the performance, or almost. It was as if he felt out of place, he who is capable of all kinds of eccentricities on stage with his band Mudhoney. With the Saints, he doesn’t have to play that role. And it must be said that the American singer has the difficult task of filling Bailey’s very large shoes, a perilous mission that he has carried out with a kind of respect, humility, and serenity when you think about it. And with each performance, it’s pretty much the same scenario, if you take the time to watch some of their shows that are circulating on the web right now.

Let’s be clear, today’s Saints are not yesterday’s Saints, nor do they try to be. The tempo is a little slower, the energy less intense, or at least channeled differently. In fact, the current lineup is content to deliver the tracks from the first three albums as honestly as possible, without fanfare, but with trumpets.

These brass-heavy concerts, which they performed in Oceania, then North America, and now Europe, are the ones they should have given back then, if they hadn’t split up so soon. Kuepper and Hay have aged, Bailey and Ward are no longer with us, but their replacements, and those who have been added, notably the versatile Mick Harvey, who acts as a kind of conductor without a baton, give the ensemble a different flavour.

The Saints from 1973 to 1978, yes, but in 2025, a different perspective, a different energy, but the same music that marked the all too short career of this iconic band.

Live photo by Matthew Ellery

Hard Rock / math rock / Mathcore / Noise Rock / Psych-Rock

M For Montréal | Angine de Poitrine: Heading for a heart attack!!

by Alain Brunet

The Angine de Poitrine tandem may not be on the verge of a stroke, but the signs of the electrocardiogram (cardiogam!) don’t lie: the buzz is tangible, we were able to measure its impact at Ausgang, on Friday, November 21, in the context of M for Montreal. This microtonal guitar-percussion tandem (Khn de Poitrine and Klek de Poitrine on the drums) coated with electro is booming on the indie scenes with its carnival costumes and its digitized Cro-Magnon tracks, served in the form of friendly saturated grunts. Good beasts! All these elements contribute to a winning formula, both daring and hilarious. Tribal grooves are thus immersed in a thick magma of effects pedals and other hypnotic frequency generators. All the beats on the program are well-known, often inspired by prog and mathcore (for the composed bars), psych-rock, Ledzeppian hard-rock (for Jimmy Page’s famous oriental riffs, necessarily microtonal) or downright noise. The interventions of the microtonal strings (Siamese guitar and bass, two handles and a single body) thus eject us from the melodic scales commonly used in the mentioned styles.

This music is made of melodic-harmonic motifs lying on hellish rhythms; all these textural overlays produce an extraordinary jam. Balanced like a jam, these pieces on the program are relatively simple, few variations along the way, except for a few more sophisticated bridges. Regardless of what we think, Angine de Poitrine turns out to be simply incendiary; these thundering blueberries (Saguenay, Alma) make you explode in the face. The ripple effect of this festive trance is undeniable, impossible to resist. Heading for a heart attack!

Contemporary

Quigital Corporate Retreat: how to destroy corporate culture while having a great time

by Frédéric Cardin

How to describe the concept behind Quigital Corporate Retreat by the Architek percussion ensemble, soprano Sarah Albu, and creators Eliot Britton, Patrick Hart, David Arbez, and Kevin McPhillips? I won’t repeat what has already been said in the interview I conducted with Ben Duinker from Architek, Sarah Albu, and Elliot Britton. I therefore invite you to consult it without delay (French and English).

WATCH THE INTERVIEW HERE

I will rather focus on the show itself, which I attended on November 13, 2025, at the Sala Rossa in Montreal. What must be said, first of all, is that this show represents a renewed form of the concept of total art in which the audience is involved. A good half hour before the first notes are played, we are already in the show itself. We are welcomed not as spectators, but rather as employees of the Quigital corporation. The event is a professional retreat, a session of boosting and motivation, collective brainstorming, but also, unbeknownst to us, an evaluation of our performance. We receive an official identity card and a downloadable application connects us to other “employees” with whom we are called upon to exchange ideas for products to launch, to build a network, and above all, to accumulate Quigital points. With these points, we can even buy promotions!

Once this intro is over, the show begins. This is a fairly playful roller coaster whose success, I am told, is due to the advice of the director and choreographer Marie-Josée Chartier. We quickly get caught up in it, so well is everything managed, and the musicians also act as more or less effective managers of the event’s progress. But the person who ensures the impeccable running and the maintenance of the breathless energy is the MC (Mistress of Ceremony), a kind of crowd animator/Club Med GO/pushy motivator of the evening: the soprano Sarah Albu. She’s the one who holds it all together, who sings, talks, encourages to the point of saturation to repeat the ridiculous mantras of this big fictional, but not so fictional, company. Here’s an example: If you’re on time, you’re late; We strive for Data Completeness!; It’s up to all of us to live and breathe the sunset-type environment; Aim to find out your Complete Edgeboard Storylines, and a bunch of other nonsense like that. We are bombarded with hollow propaganda, covered in false-good-feelings that underpin a mind-numbing productivism that seems straight out of an updated version of Orwell’s 1984.

All of this, of course, is a scathing but lucid critique of the contemporary corporate world, which seems unable to avoid the trap of its own extremist caricature leading to absurdity.

The event consists of songs that form a complete cycle (a Songbook) of six tracks, evoking conventional platitudes that one might hear or read in the usual activities of a workday:

Can You Forward This To Me?
I Hope This Email Finds You Well
Exciting News!
Just Wanted To Circle Back
You Left Something Behind
We Love You

All of this is interspersed with sometimes frenetic instrumental moments, like when the host overloads her coworkers by pushing them to always go faster. These (the guys from Architek) type faster and faster on computer “keyboards” that also serve as percussion or funny instruments like a melodica!

The great success of this show, unlike any other I have ever seen in contemporary music, is that, firstly, the staging is precise to the millimetre and timed to the millisecond. Secondly, the proposed socio-economic critique is not done in a heavy-handed or leftist preaching manner. Although the content is undeniably left-wing, the humour and ridicule present throughout serve as a lightning rod against any potential impression of militant political action. Then, thirdly, the music composed by Elliot Britton and Patrick Hart is perfectly suited to the subject matter and the flow. The Montreal composer plunges us into a tornado of sounds, notes and well-turned melodies that evoke as much the muzak of a telephone voice mail or the corporate jingle as the typical song of an American musical and, also, more contemporary instrumental episodes, but always inhabited by an irresistible propulsive energy. The simple little themes associated with Quigital’s “ads” will remind those who remember them of the stereotypical jingles from the fake commercials in films like Robocop (the original from 1987, a very dark satirical masterpiece by Paul Verhoeven) or Total Recall (also the original, with Arnold Schwarzenegger in 1990, and also by Verhoeven and based on a short story by Philip K. Dick). As if the superficial and propagandist tendencies of multinationals have not changed at all… Nowadays, it even seems that a fusion movement is taking place with a certain religious fringe of society, especially in the United States.

The creators probably noted it very well, as the majority of this corporate retreat is divided into six parts associated with a ritual initially launched with the “prayer” Oh Growth, Heed My Call. The six parts follow, whose titles leave no doubt as to the religious links: Invocation, Thanksgiving, Confession, Supplicata, Intercession, Adoration. Imagine then the host who, following the dismissal of some employees, offers very superficial and useless “thoughts and prayers”!! A particularly strong moment when you know how and in what contexts they are used by our southern neighbours.

In the end, Quigital Corporate Retreat is a bold, very bold show, but one that certainly has the potential to reach a wide audience in search of a change of scenery and social critique that is as virulent as it is comical, without forcing anyone to tear their hair out trying to understand what’s going on. That is a very rare thing in contemporary so-called “avant-garde” creation.

When you burn bridges, people fly!

Baroque / classique

Arion Orchestre Baroque | Les Adieux, Expectations Met

by Chloé Rouffignac

On Saturday, November 14, and Sunday, November 15, Arion Baroque Orchestra gave a very moving concert, Les Adieux, at Bourgie Hall. In a varied program conducted by solo violinist Chouchane Siranossian, we discovered and rediscovered the repertoire of Mozart and Haydn, as well as Andreas Romberg in his Violin Concerto in A major.

The concert began with a speech by the artistic director, reminding the audience of the importance of donations on this international day of philanthropy. This was a significant reference, not only to the current economic climate, but also to Haydn’s Symphony No. 45, “Les Adieux” (The Farewell), which was composed at a time when the musicians of Esterhaza Palace were seeking to reunite with their families, in a context where the profession of musician was already precarious…

This well-known symphony by Haydn, the centerpiece of the concert, lived up to all the audience’s expectations. The orchestra shared its energy with us right from the allegro, in a beautiful performance of a piece which, despite its popularity, is not simple and requires a great deal of dialogue between sections, particularly in its nuances. The adagio features oboe interludes and the powerful sound of the horns, which had been rather timid until then. What is also striking is the conductor’s fluid and subtle gestures. We are used to grand gestures and broad movements, yet the soloist’s efficiency is remarkable. This quality of conducting can also be found in Romberg’s violin concerto, where we can hear the beautiful colors of the horn and the very rich tones of the basses. The soloist demonstrates her agility in a piece that requires endurance and mastery of the very delicate high register in the rondeau.

After a flawless start to Mozart’s Symphony No. 5, where the orchestra’s precision was evident in the allegro, we understand the importance of a meaningful concert, where it is essential to recognize the quality of the musicians performing and an orchestra that deserves its longevity.

Photo Credit: ©Tam Photography.

Americana / chanson keb franco / Indie Folk / Indie Rock

Laurence Hélie Gets Out of Bed: All the Variables of Her Inner Self

by Alain Brunet

Laurence Hélie in French or Mirabelle in English? A hybrid creature? It doesn’t matter. This woman creates songs, atmospheres, frequencies that ultimately draw us in and take us to the right place.

Since the 2010s, this singer, songwriter, and musician has been involved in Americana and Anglo-American indie rock. She expresses herself in both languages, which is no cause for complaint in the Republic of Montreal. Since the beginning of her career, one might have concluded that her artistic direction was inconsistent, that she was an aesthetic weathervane.

However modest it may be, her new show dispels this apprehension: Laurence Hélie presents a true artistic body of work: inspired, balanced, complete.

On Wednesday, November 19, at the Lion d’Or, she was able to laugh at herself, admitting that she was tired and exasperated by long COVID, which too often and for too long has kept her bedridden with her cats, as she recounts in the song Last Chance Lake. When she manages to get out of bed, in any case, she presents herself without apparent filters, fragile and mortal as she is, sometimes dampened by the general situation for obvious reasons. Well… we believe her!

That said, Laurence Hélie still finds the energy to produce solid, well-crafted songs that are substantial enough to listen to over and over again. She finds a way to write lyrics that are solid and harmonious despite their apparent simplicity. Nevertheless, her main weapon is her voice: magnificent tone, superb inflections, circumspect whispers, natural power.

Without any apparent pretension, his band includes seasoned multi-instrumentalists, all capable of playing anything, guitars, bass, keyboards, drums: Karolane Carbonneau, Navet Confit (Jean-Philippe Fréchette), Pierre-Guy Blanchard, not to mention the talented Mat Vezio on drums on two tracks. The latter gave a touching and minimalist opening act, presenting half a dozen new songs—the guy has been through a lot, a heart attack in the spring, his mother with Alzheimer’s, his father deaf, and so on.

Laurence Hélie performed songs from her mini-album Tendresse et bienveillance, released in 2025 on Simone Records, as well as a unique cover of Nirvana’s All Apologies, which she recorded recently, not to mention a few “classics” from her French and English discography.

She may take more naps than we do, but her art is anything but sleepy.

Laurence Hélie now brings together all the elements of her inner self and displays a beautiful maturity in her songwriting. Have you realized that she deserves more attention than she receives? It’s up to you!

Africa / Afro-Colombian / Eastern European / japon / latino / Musiques du Monde

Mundial Montreal | A World Tour for The 15th Edition

by Sandra Gasana

Colombia, Japan, France, Lithuania, and the Democratic Republic of Congo were represented on this second day of Mundial at Café Campus. We were treated to a musical tour around the world, wandering from room to room, from one universe to another.

Less Toches

To kick off this 15th edition of Mundial, Less Toches brought their infectious energy back to Café Campus. You’ve probably seen them on several Montreal stages since their appearance at Syli d’Or or MUZ. In a 25-minute show, they managed to set the place on fire, thanks in part to the band’s percussion instruments but also to the accordion. Added to this are the voices of the musicians providing backing vocals. Cumbia is at the heart of this Colombian band’s universe, but they don’t hesitate to add bolero, sung in French no less, to demonstrate their versatility, before returning to cumbia in the same song. The camaraderie between the musicians was palpable, giving the impression of a house party teleported onto the stage. They took care to address the audience in both of Canada’s official languages, ensuring that they reached the many broadcasters in the room. Their electrifying energy appealed to the audience, who even had the opportunity to sing along with them.

Maïa Barouh

My favorite part of the evening was undoubtedly this Franco-Japanese artist with her eclectic style, who has mastered the art of performance. She began her performance in the audience with her two percussionist sidekicks, megaphone in hand. Unfortunately, this part was not visible to the whole room, but she brought that energy back to the stage a few minutes later. Dressed in a patterned kimono and traditional Japanese hats, she spoke sometimes in English, sometimes in French between songs. Patterned Japanese lanterns decorated the room, setting the mood for her mixed-culture universe. She blends traditional Japanese songs with rock, electro, and rap, adding her own unique theatrical touch. She dances at times, shouts loudly at others—in short, she constantly surprises us. In addition to singing, she plays guitar on a few songs and finishes with the flute, which she plays while singing, revealing all her talents, one after the other. Her song “Je ne suis pas Chinoise” (I am not Chinese) addresses this quest for identity and her frustration at being greeted with “Ni Hao” (hello in Mandarin) on the street. She got the audience involved, making them sing in Japanese, accompanied by the percussionists who were also her backing singers. She will be in Ste-Hyacinthe and Gatineau in the coming days, giving us the opportunity to discover her talent.

Sutartronica

The bar was already set very high with Maïa, so it wasn’t easy for the next group to do better. Three women, all dressed in white dresses, appeared on stage, accompanied by a DJ/musician. Together, they mix Lithuanian polyphonic songs with electro, reminiscent of Gregorian chants but with a modern twist. They were rather shy at the beginning of the concert, but as it went on, they loosened up, adding dance moves and stage presence. On some tracks, the DJ added rhythmic sounds from his computer, while on others he played his electric guitar instead. Their music takes us back in time, even several centuries ago, when some women were treated as witches because they sang. “If we’re here tonight, it means they didn’t succeed,” adds one of them, who seems to be the leader of the group. They sometimes sing a cappella and even taught us a few words in Lithuanian. What began as a solemn, almost religious performance ended in a festive atmosphere, combining singing, hypnotic harmonies, and dancing.

Killabeatmaker

There are three of them on stage, but they seem like ten because of the intense energy they project, particularly percussionist Hilder Brando Osorno, who also works the console to create electrifying Afrobeats and Afrohouse sounds mixed with Colombian rhythms from the Caribbean and Pacific regions of Colombia. He is accompanied by Guadalupe, a young musician who also plays percussion, maracas, and the traditional Colombian flute. The third member is the band’s drummer, with a gigantic drum in front of him on which he goes wild throughout the performance. After a few songs, the rhythm is so frenzied that it feels like being in a nightclub. They even had the chance to add a song to their repertoire when one of the members suggested it to the audience.

Kin’Gongolo Kiniata

The second night of Mundial ended with the long-awaited performance by Kin’Gongolo Kiniata, the band we talked about in PAN M 360 when they played at the Nuits d’Afrique festival. Known for using stuff they find on the street and recycling it to make their instruments, they show us that you can make music with anything. Composed of five members from the Democratic Republic of Congo, they all take turns singing and know how to get the crowd going. The bassist, a true showman, had an instrument that looked like a banjo, but he played it perfectly while interacting with the audience. The electric guitar was much smaller than what we usually see, but it was just as powerful. In the center of the stage, two musicians played on a wooden box into which they had inserted metal and plastic percussion instruments. Ah, there was even a tin can that served as an instrument and added ambient noise. They got the audience singing by having them repeat their name, while the drummer played on boxes, using an old 1980s TV as a support. Despite the fact that the activities had started at 8 a.m. that day, the participants still had energy to burn at 11 p.m. thanks to this group that kept them awake. Like Killabeatmaker, Kin’Gongolo Kiniata was treated to an extra song as the audience demanded more. And since it was the 15th, some rules were more flexible, allowing the fun to last a little longer.

“Measures for a Funeral’s” Sonic Grief

by Stephan Boissonneault

Sofia Bohdanowicz’s feature film Measures for a Funeral arrives like a dirge played backwards. Not as a resurrection, mind you, but as a slow archaeological and archival excavation. This is a film about researching the dead that becomes, through some cruel alchemy of form and grief, an autopsy of research itself. Bohdanowicz has expanded her 2018 short into something that feels lengthened and deepened—a hole dug further into frozen Canadian ground.

The story begins with Audrey Benac (Dreagh Campbell), a graduate student consumed by the life of the real-life classical violinist, Kathleen Parlow. Born in 1890, Kathleen Parlow rose to become one of the early twentieth century’s most accomplished violinists, though her name has largely faded from public memory. Her extraordinary skill earned her recognition as a virtuoso among her contemporaries, with admirers dubbing her “The lady of the golden bow.”

Audrey is trying to finish her thesis on Parlow, but has a dying mother at home. Regardless, she follows Parlow’s life, strapped with a violin on her back, leading her to England and Oslo. The score by Olivier Alary, who has worked with artists like Björk and Cat Power, establishes a moody, ominous tone immediately, using extensive repetitive notes that heighten tension and summon a horror atmosphere lurking beneath the drama. What makes the music so devastating is its patience. The film features an almost thriller-like buzz of static frequently on the soundtrack, creating an aural texture that suggests archival decay, the sound of history itself degrading on wax cylinders and magnetic tape.

The score immerses viewers in the world of classical music, but it never romanticizes it. Instead, it exposes classical music’s capacity for haunting—how sound persists differently than material objects, how recordings become containers for the dead, how music can be both preservation and curse. Audrey and the film itself understand something profound about archival work: that listening to recordings of the deceased is a form of séance.

Cinéma du Musée | Sunday, November 23 | 2 PM Mesures Funèbres – presented in collaboration with the Orchestre Métropolitain de Montréal
This special event includes a screening of the film and a Q&A with members of the production team (producer Andreas Mendritzki, composer Olivier Alary and archival lead Hourman Behzadi) and members of the OM (CEO Fabienne Voisin and Artistic Programming Director Mathilde Lemieux), moderated by Head of Short Films & Programmer of Feature Films at FNC Émilie Poirier.

musique contemporaine

Two anniversaries celebrated with Quebec’s musical genius

by Frédéric Cardin

Saturday evening at the Claude-Champagne Hall of the University of Montreal, a concert was held to celebrate the anniversaries of two venerable Quebec musical institutions: the 60th of the Quebec Society of Contemporary Music (SMCQ) and the 75th of the Faculty of Music of the University of Montreal (UdeM). Contemporary Confluences, the title of the concert, highlighted the many intersections between the two organizations. The program honoured the various musical directors of the SMCQ throughout history (Serge Garant, Gilles Tremblay, Walter Boudreau, Ana Sokolovic), who have all also been teachers at UdeM. As a bonus, a creation by a young composer, Maxime Daigneault, because we must not forget that the mission of both institutions is also to ensure the future of contemporary classical music. It was the SMCQ ensemble, led by Christian Gort, and the UdeM Contemporary Music Ensemble, led by Jean-Michaël Lavoie, who shared the stage and the pieces, sometimes in tandem.

READ THE INTERVIEW ABOUT THIS CONCERT

The program showed the depth of scholarly creation in Quebec music. Boudreau’s Coffre III(a) (Le Cercle Gnostique I {}) launched the evening with the composer’s usual mark, his stunning colours and sparkling energy. The trio of young students from UdM, composed of Jérémie Arsenault on clarinet, Alona Milner on piano, and Leîla Saurel on cello, was impressive in terms of technical quality, precision, and timbral beauty.

Following was Serge Garant’s Quintet for flutes, oboe/English horn, percussion, piano, and cello, a true marvel of arch construction, whose expressive beauty relies on an exceptional sense of colour and thematic metamorphosis. Ana Sokolovic’s Five Locomotives and Some Animals bears the mark of the Montreal composer’s efficient style. Descriptive episodes including rhythmic and stylistic motifs from Balkan folklore, interspersed with short interventions driven by exciting motor energy. Ironically, it was the work that seemed the most fragmented of the evening in terms of sonic coherence, whereas the others were rather seeking to create an integrated, morphic and organic whole despite their omnipresent pointillism. Nevertheless, Sokolovic’s writing remains irresistible.

Souffle (Champs II) by Gilles Tremblay reminded us of how the formal and intellectual complexity of the composer’s works is equally matched by a fascinating mastery of expression and discourse. The abundance of colours and the stunning poetry of this seductive abstraction never fail to move. Very great art, as Lavoie and the UdeM Ensemble reminded us.

I really enjoyed the last piece of the evening, Sensations: Lueurs du néant (Sensations and glimmers of nothingness) by Maxime Daigneault. This commission, performed by the largest number of musicians in the program, testified quite explicitly to the nature of contemporary language in 2025, compared to that of its predecessors, concentrated in the years 1978 to 1996. Daigneault’s music is organic, metamorphic in the sense of a moving fluid that almost never contains sound breaks. This fluidity is very representative of current music in scholarly creation, probably informed by post-minimalism and neo-romanticism. In the 21st century, we seek to fill the expressive field, to cover it entirely. It is very different from the atomism that dominated avant-garde and institutional musical thought in the second half of the 20th century.

Daigneault told me before the concert that the idea of this piece was to translate the compositional process that characterizes his own approach. At the moment of starting to write a work, there is nothing. A blank page, or rather a dark void. Then, through persistent searching, a few luminous threads appear, ideas, intuitions. He pulls on them, sees what he can do with them, ties them together, and eventually transforms the darkness into light. Sensations: Lueurs du néant is totalitarian music, in the sense of a total monopolization of the sound space, without breaks, or almost. It is also a very strongly expressive music, and one that has an almost physical impact on the listener. As far as I’m concerned, a great success. Why did it then seem to me that the applause was a bit too polite?

The musicians of both ensembles were at the forefront of the numerous demands of the scores. With perhaps the advantage going to that of the SMCQ, which is also the most experienced.

The celebration of the two anniversaries took place in a sober manner while highlighting the very essence of their missions: to promote the excellence and endurance of local musical genius.

Moyen-Orient / Levant / Maghreb / Raï

FMA 2025 | Chazil Charms Montreal

by Sandra Gasana

Right from the start, Chazil chose to open the show with the song Twahchete Shabi w Bladi, in which he talks about his mother and friends whom he misses when he is far from home. Indeed, exile plays an important role in his repertoire, as if raï music lends itself well to this kind of theme.

For his first show in Canada, Chazil made quite an impression. The National was filled with young people, but not only them—some had come with their parents to listen to the young prodigy of raï 2.0, as he calls it.

By the second song, the audience was up dancing, even though the venue wasn’t really suited to it. As the evening wore on, more and more people joined in, transforming the National into a veritable nightclub.

Wearing his signature scarf around his neck and a beige suit, Chazil has a Montreal fan club that was there to support him, chanting his name several times throughout the evening.

With a full band made up entirely of Montrealers, Chazil delivered a performance worthy of the name, displaying a particularly strong rapport with his guitarist. Some songs start off softly, highlighting his deep voice, before the darbouka and drums kick in with power. Despite his young age—he is only 25—he seems to have the soul of an old sage.

“Are you ready for more?” he asks the crowd before continuing with Algerian music classics that everyone seems to know by heart, alternating with his own hit songs. He got the audience involved, turning them into a choir and getting them to clap along to the rhythms of the darbouka, adding call-and-response songs. His dance moves were a hit with the young girls in the audience, who began to cheer.

After a few songs, a member of the audience gave him an Algerian flag, which he attached to his microphone, declaring himself a nationalist and very proud of his country. A song dedicated to love was particularly popular with the audience, who sang along at the top of their voices.

Sometimes, raï blended with rock on certain tracks, while on others it was more raw, with breathtaking keyboard and electric guitar solos. He took the opportunity to present his new song Katba, which many in the audience already knew by heart, as well as Khelouni, which means “Let me” in Arabic and features in his live session Raï Rayi on YouTube.

The darbouka gave way to congas on certain tracks, notably during his cover of Abdelkader Ya Boualem by Cheb Khaled, the true king of raï. Seeing the crowd go wild, he treated them to a non-stop medley of raï classics. Not very talkative between songs, he addressed the audience mainly in Arabic, slipping in little jokes here and there. He often asked for the spotlight to be turned on the audience so he could see them better, and they kept asking for more and more. Even after the selfie at the end of the concert, the audience didn’t want to leave. Chazil had no choice but to take one last photo before closing his very first show in Montreal, which is certainly not his last.

Publicité panam

Indie Rock / Psych-Rock

Coup de Cœur Francophone | Rare Opportunity: Bon Enfant at L’Esco

by Justine Charland

Coup de Cœur Francophone, an eagerly awaited annual festival, kicked off its 39th edition on Thursday, in the cold and darkness of a harsh autumn. Three shows, all roughly 50 meters apart, marked the start of a long series that runs until November 16.

In the catacombs of the Triangle, the band Bon Enfant was based, ready to take to the stage at L’Esco, which its members affectionately call home. Fresh from winning a Félix Award for Rock Album of the Year the day before, Bon Enfant, tired but determined, were about to open the show, a unique way to celebrate a well-deserved victory.

A look back at an intimate performance in a venue frequented by the fringes of the music scene.

Bon Enfant is scheduled for 10 p.m., a late-night show that’s generating a lot of excitement. This excitement is palpable: there are at least four people on video, the venue is packed, and tickets are sold out. Seeing Bon Enfant in a place as small as L’Esco, when the band can normally fill a Club Soda, is a prime opportunity, a rare treat. The audience knows it.

The group finally takes the stage, gently beginning their show with popular tracks from their most recent album. Four of them follow one another, with the musical elements we know them for: the guitar lines bathed in a layering of dreamlike effects, the synthesizer interventions recalling the Fender Rhodes and the organs of the psych-rock years, the danceable grooves of the drums and bass are true to form, together they are firmly rooted.

Porcelaine finally arrives, a cult classic from Diorama. Daphné’s vocal style, unmistakably reminiscent of 70s nostalgia, is impossible to ignore. It’s during this first major hit that the audience truly joins in the sonic immersion. The lyrics are shouted out. The party officially begins.

Shortly after, the group bravely launched into Enfant de l’air, an instrumental suite reminiscent of Alain Goraguer, which they approached like a long jam session. While few artists allow themselves an instrumental interlude in the middle of their setlist, Bon Enfant executed this nod to the prog and psychedelia with finesse, a nod to the genres they are so often associated with.

The show then features those songs we play on repeat in our living rooms, including the ever-popular “Aujourd’hui” and “Magie.” The atmosphere builds until the end of the evening, proving that fatigue can be fought with music. Some comments make us feel close to the band: “We won rock album at the ADISQ awards yesterday, and we had a blast here right after. Life is good. Yesterday we paid to be here, today we’re paid to be here.” Unsurprisingly, it’s following an encore request that the band closes this long epic of partying and performance with two solidly delivered songs. The message is clear: this edition of Coup de Cœur Francophone is one to watch.

Publicité panam

Violons du Roy | Flawless performance from the orchestra, impeccable soloist

by Chloé Rouffignac

With the renowned Bach Festival in Montreal fast approaching, the composer’s aura is already palpable: this past Friday, November 7th, Les Violons du Roy presented a highly thematic concert (Bach Lessons) at Salle Bourgie. Under the direction of conductor Bernard Labadie, who stepped in for his colleague Robert Levin, the original program curator, we were treated to a concert worthy of the orchestra’s reputation.

Indeed, pianist Inon Barnatan, stepping in at the last minute for Robert Levin (who was also scheduled to perform as soloist), captivated us with his mastery of a complex and demanding text, particularly in the Concerto in D minor, BWV 1056, which concluded with an immediate and enthusiastic ovation. Despite several phone calls being interrupted in the hall, the pianist’s committed approach to the meticulously orchestrated performance was an experience in itself.

A welcome approach in the world of Bach, which demands not only rhythmic precision and impeccable intonation but also a physical dialogue between sections. The galvanizing energy of the soloist and his musicians was transmitted to the audience from the very first notes of the allegro. This synergy continued in the Concerto No. 5 in F minor and its famous Largo, a work of delicate detail and profound emotion.

The sentimental value is also found alone with the Italian Concerto BWV 97, revealing a pianist alone on stage who pours out a stream of notes without error and above all without losing character or precision under the difficulty of the text.

The concert began with excerpts from The Art of Fugue, a fine opening for the orchestra, which showcased a unified sound under a conductor who was very close to his musicians. The cello’s entrance in Contrapunctus II was particularly memorable, as it soared over the flow of the first movement without interrupting the violins’ delicate touch. Beautiful waves of nuance were also found even in the more technical and acrobatic passages of Contrapunctus IX, made possible, in part, by the dynamic presence of first violinist Katya Poplyansky.

She and her section offer a very high-quality sound, and in Offrande musicale, she conducts a very fluid conversation of the melodic current, which could often result in a breathless, strained performance. On the contrary, we observe a light and highly focused interpretation.

In short? A flawless performance from Les Violons du Roy, who nevertheless had to adapt to changes in direction and soloist, and an impeccable performance by soloist Inon Barnatan that won over the entire audience. See you on November 22nd for the chamber orchestra, which will be performing Vivaldi under the direction of Jonathan Cohen.

Alt-Pop / Alternative / Electro-Pop / Electro-Rock

Quai Des Brumes turns into a “club” to the sound of Bibi Club

by Simon Gervais

Energetic and spellbinding, Bibi Club captivated us on November 6, immersing us in a unique universe where the gentleness of a naturalist soul blends with the vibrant power of electro-rock.

I had already seen the duo Adèle Trottier-Rivard and Nicolas Basque in 2023 during the Taverne Tour at Le Quai des Brumes. This legendary venue of Quebecois music is celebrating its 40th anniversary, as programmer Noémie Laniel reminded us. This time, I was driven by a curiosity sparked by their latest song, Amaro, a track far more danceable and edgy than anything they’ve released so far—a song that, I hope, hints at a new direction for Bibi Club.

Bibi Club · Amaro

A breath of new wave

From the very first songs, this shift is noticeable: slightly darker material, more distortion, and a touch drawing from new wave and downtempo. The lyrics retain the natural, elemental poetry that is quintessentially Bibi Club, imbued with love and solidarity. The atmospheres, meanwhile, feel more dramatic than before, with mysterious tones and cinematic guitar strikes reminiscent of Ennio Morricone. Listening to older tracks like Le feu, I realize that this new wave breath has always been there—only tonight, it feels less diaphanous and more direct, even more assertive.

At times, you’re hit with a true wall of sound: heavy drum machine beats, textured synth tones, layered vocals, and fiery guitar solos. Basque frequently lifts his guitar above his head like a rock star. The chemistry between the two artists is effortless and instinctive, forming an almost inseparable unit—reminiscent of Janus—when they stand side by side.

Beneath the multicolored lasers, the crowd sways gently at times, nods vigorously at others, caught in the hypnotic rhythm of the beat.

**Then comes Amaro…**

The highlight of the show. The stage at Le Quai ignites under scarlet lighting. Mystical tones signal a tense build-up. The oppressive character of the track almost evokes phonk, that brazen electro subgenre born from web culture. For Bibi Club, it’s the discovery of a new, danceable horizon—and the crowd follows suit.

The show’s high point. The stage at Le Quai blazes under scarlet lights. Mystical tones signal a tense, electrifying build-up. The track’s oppressive character almost evokes phonk, that audacious electro subgenre born from web culture. For Bibi Club, it’s the discovery of a new, danceable horizon—and the crowd eagerly follows.

The penultimate song evokes a bit of War On Drugs, before returning to a finale that is pure new wave, pure rock. After the concert, Adèle confides that Amaro was originally an experiment, almost a joke. They created the beat for fun, liked how it turned out, and now it’s the title track of their upcoming album, set to be released next February. It goes to show that sometimes a playful, carefree creation can lead to real nuggets of gold. I sincerely hope that Amaro becomes their guiding star moving forward—a way to bring even more “club” into Bibi Club.

🔗 Also check out our review of Bibi Club at FME!

Photos: Marie-Michèle Bouchard | Luna Choquette Loranger