The Weird Wizardly World of King Tuff

by Lyle Hendriks

From the moment he took the stage at Bar Le Ritz PDB, it was abundantly clear that Kyle Thomas, better known as King Tuff, is a weird dude.

King Tuff’s March 28th show was supported by Tchotchke, an excellent indie rock group from Brooklyn, NY. The all-female trio played with fantastic energy, with a particularly strong performance from drummer/vocalist Anastasia Sanchez that carried each track’s momentum through to the end. 

After a short break, the King himself (along with his merry troupe) arrived onstage, opening up in short order with the whimsical opener of his latest album, “Love Letters to Plants.” Featuring restrained keys, subdued yet complicated drums, and imperfect, impactful vocals, this weirdo track did an excellent job of setting the tone for the rest of the set. 

After a little banter about Montreal and its bagels (including the controversial move of pledging allegiance to Fairmount Bagel), Thomas carried on through his setlist, mainly playing cuts off his latest album, Smalltown Stardust. As with the record itself, King Tuff’s Montreal performance was one that could be summed up in a single word: confidence. 

There was an overwhelming sense of ease in everything played by Thomas and his band—a distinct sense of humility backed up by decades of practice and experience. While Thomas no doubt has the skills to melt our faces at a moment’s notice, he clearly doesn’t feel the need to prove it with these new songs, opting instead to include the bare necessities of what each song requires. These tracks feel like they were made for Kyle Thomas above all else, and the fact that anyone else cares to listen is simply a bonus.

Despite Thomas’ apparent maturity and growth, he still had his moments, including cursing a floppy mic stand and asking irreverent questions to the audience about our options for local swimming holes. To our delight, it got to a point where even Thomas’ own guitar player told him he was a freak—a statement which was not denied by the King or his bandmates.

At this point, we all figured we had a bead on King Tuff’s oddball vibe. He’s a grown man with years of experience and the skills to match, yet still maintains a youthful streak in the way he talks and performs. I figured he’d soon be wrapping up, suddenly he stopped and said he forgot something backstage, vanishing to the back hall.

After an awkward pause, Thomas’ drummer shrugged, hit a fill, and led the band through a few minutes of jazzy elevator music. Shortly after, King Tuff reemerged, having donned a pink, iridescent wizard robe with accompanying hat and shades. With the tone severely and suddenly shifted, the band jumped into some older, heavier songs, including the truly awesome “Black Moon Spell,” and iconic “I Love You Ugly.” Thomas shredded, screamed, and howled through these last few tracks, delivering the energy and intensity that he had so gracefully held back to that point. 

King Tuff is a psychedelic vision in a shaggy beard. A fork of lightning that strikes wherever it damn well pleases. A whimsical wizard armed with a Telecaster and a Rhodes piano. King Tuff is a weird dude, and you can’t help but love him for it. 

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