What brings everyone out into the streets on a cold February night? Cigarettes? Dancing? Whatever it is, there’s that bubbling, fleeting feeling that something is happening, and we’re right in the middle of it.
It carries you like a wave to its heart—to the soul-piercing stare of HRT’s singer as she tumbles through the crowd, to Michael Karson’s liquid golden voice, and to Pressure Pin’s and No Wave’s punk barrage. Taverne Tour is the all-you-can-eat buffet of the best shows you didn’t know you needed. The palette is wide and rich, with a local culture of music that ferments between the bars on St. Laurent and St. Denis. Out of these sewers came the mutant of Mulchulation II, flooding l’Escogriffe, the sidewalk, and the street. Out of the sky came Birds of Prrrey, diving into the crowd. Every scene collides into a tense explosion of heat, and if you listen closely, you can hear the whispers of the city—people caught in a moment.
At La Sotterenea, we felt the inescapable potential of trans-fem and queer electronic music for experimentation and radical expression. Puggy Beales opened the night with raw confidence, with the duo taking the stage armed only with microphones and a will to stir the crowd. Their house inspired beats reminiscent of early M.I.A., carried vivid lyrics like “work until you die” and their fierce presence made it clear that this was more than just dance music.
Across the street at Casa, Pressure Pin delivered a high-energy set, blending fast tempos and shifting rhythms with a raw, theatrical edge. No Wave followed, electrifying the room as they played each song like a hit. Between each set people were coming out of the pit with huge smiles and scratches on their faces. Closing the night, Speed Massacre pushed this pressured steam out like a boiling kettle and had everyone hanging on to the very last note.
With every venue packed, Taverne Tour demonstrates they not only curate amazing shows but also ones that contrast and complement each other. Here, you can find sweaty trans-fem music fans waiting in line for their coats alongside cowboy boot-wearing country fans still humming a jubilee. It’s a recipe for fun, for unpredictability that grows onto itself, opening all channels of the night into interweaving roads. Where will it take you next? Word goes around that there’s a dance competition down the street, and the evening goes on, bouncing on the energy this city so desperately craved on a cold February night.
