Interviews

Photo: Manuela Martelli

Based in Montreal but originally from Valparaiso, Chile, Gabriel Vigliensoni enjoyed some success in his native country in the late ’90s with the alternative band Lucybell, and then the electro-acoustic band Mismos. This former student at the Santiago Conservatory began his solo career with Nata in 2004, an album on which he experimented with techno and breakbeat. He also explored vocal-oriented songs on The Animal Kingdom in 2014, and blended krautrock and electronic music with Jaguar the following year. With a PhD in music technology from McGill University, Vigliensoni has pursued in-depth studies of the design of new music interfaces and music recommendation algorithms.

For his appearance at MUTEK this year, Vigliensoni presents the premiere of Clastic Music, a largely improvised performance for which he teamed up with fellow Chilean Eduardo Pérez Infante to create a web application that allows the audience to modify the visual component of the show as they wish. PAN M 360 spoke with the musician, artist and researcher to discover the meaning of his unique approach.

(Photo: Bruno Destombes)

PAN M 360: Reading your press kit, we learn that you’ve touched on all kinds of music before coming to the Clastic Music project. Can you briefly retrace your career for us?

Vigliensoni: I come from Chile. I started there. I participated in a few bands, doing mostly rock and pop. I was playing keyboards. Some of these bands were popular, in a way. We worked with EMI, Warner, and others, and eventually I started liking more electronic music, stuff like Autechre, Aphex Twin… Then I started working with some friends making electronic music, but mostly with instruments like vibraphone, stick bass, double bass, and things like that. But I’ve also been playing always with synthesizers and drum machines. I did a path from playing with physical instruments to computers, and then I went back to more physical instruments because I don’t like to just stand there playing with my computer and a mouse. I like to embody music.

PAN M 360: Your new project is called Clastic Music, what’s it about?

Vigliensoni: “Clastic” is a geological term in which different layers of rock and sediment make something new. The analogy for music is that I am building from other musicians’ work to create my own. I’m actually learning the intrinsic features of rhythms in order to create a machine-learning model, an AI model which I play with. So for MUTEK, I will play just unreleased material and it will be very improvised in a way.

PAN M 360: You’ve given serious thought in your studies and research to the design of new music interfaces and music recommendation algorithms. Can you tell us more about this?

Vigliensoni: I am always curious about new ways of playing with music. I think there’s always space for improvement in the way we interact with music. As I said, I’m not using the computer a lot when I play because I don’t like how it interacts with music. I don’t like to look at a screen in order to play music. In that sense, I’ve been building this device which allows me to explore a data set of rhythms in a different manner. The way I work with this is that I collect a bunch of clips of rhythms and then, by using a machine-learning device, I learn the characteristics of these rhythms. And then I map these rhythms into an imaginary space with which I can explore in real time. 

PAN M 360: How long did it take you to develop this process?

Vigliensoni: I’ve been working on this since last March. The tricky thing about software development is that it’s endless. You always have a new thing in mind, and then another one. So there is a very fine balance between actually making music and coding something. But the nice thing is that one informs the other. If you just keep doing software development, it’s kind of boring and pointless, but if you are switching from one to the other, it gets better.

PAN M 360: Your biography states that you are turning the process of making a record into a playground for learning and experimentation. How do you achieve this?

Vigliensoni: I don’t like to repeat myself in the workflow of creating music. The way we usually work these days for making music is that we go to a computer, we open the Pro Tools or Ableton or whatever we want to use, and then we start building our song, and if we don’t like something we just undo it and then start again. But I’ve been getting sick of that workflow, so what I’ve been exploring lately is getting rid of the computer and just doing it à la old school, in a way You record a track but you cannot just undo it, and you have less possibilities of editing. To do it properly, you have to rehearse more. I use the computer to write emails and other stuff like that, but I don’t want to use it to make music. 

PAN M 360: You prefer to work in a more physical way, finally. 

Vigliensoni: Exactly. For me, music is physical. Yes, I like ambient stuff, but I like to be more on top of things. So this idea of changing the way in which I interact with music is important to me, finding what the best workflow is that fits certain ideas, or what I can do to make this process different…

PAN M 360: You teamed up with Chilean artist Eduardo Pérez Infante to create a web application with which spectators will be able to modify the visual components of the show.

Vigliensoni: What we want to do is, while my music is being played, you can have a browser open and the visuals will react to the music. There is a component of interactivity, so the audience at home can, for example, move the mouse from their computer and change the visuals in real time along with the music. When MUTEK offered for me to play at the festival, I started to think, what can we offer for a hybrid-mode festival? To be honest, I think streaming is very boring in general, so I thought of offering a kind of browser-based game or web application to enhance interaction with people. That’s what we will try to deliver. So, you can be your own VJ in a way. 

PAN M 360: Do you intend to make this project available after your performance at MUTEK?

Vigliensoni: Yes. The idea is to release the music as a web-based application. I don’t really believe in those streaming services, not at all in fact. I like the concept of having access to a large library of music but don’t like the concept of neverending recommendations, so that you don’t really know what’s actually playing if you’re not in front of your computer. I have a PHD in music recommendation so i know a bit about that! And I also don’t like the payscale for musicians. So I’m even considering not even releasing this on Spotify or iTunes, because there’s no point. It’s much better on Bandcamp, because you have control of your stuff, you receive much more money, you can have all your discography, you are in charge of uploading your music, you know exactly at which level it will be played back…  So having a way to allow people to play and interact with your music, I think it’s interesting, you’re offering something different. I believe it’s important to think about new ways to bring music to people and give them a different concert experience, because it’s quite possible that the situation we’re in right now will continue for a long time.

Haitian heritage, bilingual Montreal culture, strong interests in experimental music and fashion design, sexual fluidity… From adolescence to adulthood, Tania Daniel gradually became a Tati au Miel, and the 23-year-old artist is about to pulverize all the stereotypes in her path, and contribute to the actualization of black identity.

PAN M 360: Let’s start at the beginning, with a summary of your journey.

TATI AU MIEL: My family is Haitian, I was born in Montreal, and grew up in the West Island. I visited my relatives from the Haitian diaspora a lot in different American cities, so I have a good grasp of English. Musically, no one around me liked what I liked, so I grew up surfing the internet, I discovered several musical styles on my own. I studied cinema at Dawson College and, around the age of 18, I decided to make music. My life as a young adult in downtown Montreal allowed me to discover its experimental DIY scene, and become a DJ, and then a composer and producer. I also design clothes, I did it notably for Klein, an experimental artist from London who shared the stage with Björk. By working with such artists, several creative visions have enriched mine. I have been able to count on real support from the creators I have worked with up to now. 

PAN M 360: How did you go from DJing to composing? 

TAM: In the beginning I DJed because I didn’t know much about music production. But I intended to compose, to start my own projects. My experimental, techno and industrial influences were already there as a DJ, I think of Moor Mother, Crystalmess, Dreamcrusher, Merzbow, Keji Haino, etc. I had a lot of influences in my head. I continue to develop my own style, I would say that my next recordings will be marked by noise. The more I put my music online, the more precise it becomes and the more I get approached by different broadcasters. 

PAN M 360: Our propensity for stereotypes leads us to think that your approach is a departure from the idea of black music. What do you reply to that?

TAM: It all depends on the stereotypes we have! You know, I was introduced to instrumental music by black friends, I really don’t believe that experimental music has a skin colour. For sure, black experimental music artists influence me, that encourages me to continue and maybe get in touch with these artists and maybe collaborate with them. One of my aspirations in life is to make unusual music, that’s for sure! I try to deconstruct sounds and noises of all kinds, recorded in the street or everywhere I go, and then turn them into original works. I dare to believe that the authenticity of my work can be seen through my projects. 

PAN M 360: Is the sexual fluidity with which you identify reflected in your music?

TAM: It is not for nothing that my first EP is entitled The Exorcism of Tania Daniel. Exorcism has an often negative connotation, I wanted to see it as a positive and spiritual rebirth. There are references in my art to the queer/trans/LGBT community, as well as gender-fluid black people, that bring a lot of positivity to my personal experience. 

PAN M 360: What is the project that you’re presenting at MUTEK? 

TAM: The Tati au Miel project, a nickname inspired by Tania Daniel, explores my vision of noise and puts forward experimentation. For MUTEK, I want to create an atmosphere involving all sorts of emotions emanating from unusual sounds. I am planning a 45-minute set, truly unique for the event, built from my sound bank that I have built up over time and also with my instruments – Ableton, midi controllers, etc. – which I will use to create a unique sound experience. A special guest will also come up to sing on two pieces. I’m also working with Maiko Rodrig on this project, one of my closest collaborators. We will soon be launching the Trademark collective, which will showcase different artists in experimental music. It’s all about creating a sense of community and recognising each other, because these artists are unknown and often difficult to spot. My life continues on this path.

MUTEK OFFICIAL WEBSITE

Photo: Lucas Paris

Both a composer and visual artist, the Quebec artist designs and builds interactive objects that react to the movement of the user in real time. In this case, himself. Hypercube is the most recent of these objects, once again coming to life in front of an audience, or on your screen.

Langevin-Tétrault is behind the conceptualization or co-design of various projects appearing internationally – Interferences, Falaises, DATANOISE, QUADr, ILEA, BetaFeed, Alexeï Kawolski, Recepteurz, and of course Hypercube, presented this Wednesday at MUTEK Montreal.

The works of this Baie-Comeau-born artist constitute ecosystems involving audiovisual devices based on cutting-edge digital technologies, but also on both physical and theatrical interpretation. 

Why does an electronic music composer choose to become multi-disciplinary? 

“I studied digital audio composition at the Université de Montréal,” says Langevin-Tétrault. “Before going into these studies, I was a guitarist and keyboardist in rock bands, I had a relationship with the stage. I really enjoyed learning how to compose, but I missed that connection to the stage. I like the exchange of energy that happens only when an audience is in front of you. But I found it difficult to recreate this energy by manipulating only a computer on stage. I missed being able to move, to use the whole space. I wanted movement on stage to be part of the performance.”

He’s been working on this project for the last six years.

“I try to create devices that allow me to interpret in real time. Electroacoustic instruments don’t exist, or are very rare, they’re usually controllers with buttons. So I decided to interpret through gestures, and therefore through a physical relationship with audiovisual objects whose sound and light I control in real time. 

“I used to broadcast my music on the Internet,” he says. “I used to make electronic music where I was inspired by both experimental codes and more popular electronic music. In the studio, I worked a lot with modular synthesizers, a kind of continuity of the IDM trend – an expression I don’t like that much…”

Langevin-Tétrault interacts with devices that, he says, have a personality of their own – well, almost.

“This performance is the result of my relationship with the device that manifests an appearance of behaviour. I am not the only one doing the show. Hypercube seeks a balance between planned performance and moments of free improvisation. It is important for me to have this freedom to improvise. At the same time, I don’t want it to get too confusing. I still have a direction during the performance; different predetermined signals or points keep me on track. It’s important that there is a coherent dramatic arc. I’m free to do what I want to do, but I try not to get lost in the performance.”

Langevin-Tétrault is aware of the risk of working with state-of-the-art digital audio equipment, because there is always the trap of technical prowess… not necessarily at the service of a conclusive work. 

“I worked in the studio for a long time to make sure that it sounds good, that you can listen without seeing and be satisfied with the audio. The idea is not to make a kind of big buffet and demonstrate the full potential of the object, but to stay within the same aesthetic and present a coherent work from beginning to end. Technology is a tool, not an end in itself. The objective is to express something.”

Photo: Lucas Paris

Langevin-Tétrault notes that advances in computer technology and access to laptops that have become very powerful are driving this advance in artistic expression.

“Not so long ago, the possibilities of real-time interpretation were limited, computers did not have the same capacity. Now, if you have any programming skills at all, you can do quite complex things in real time. At the end of the day, it’s not so much technology as imagination and mastery of the tools that prevail.”

In the case at hand? The designer of Hypercube explains.

“To create the device, I was inspired by the idea of a geometric form that moves in time, in the fourth dimension. When I manipulate this shape, I get a lot of simultaneous information from sensors – it allows me to deduce the orientation and position of the cube. In addition, the tension sensors linked to the cables that keep the cube in suspension allow me to control the music and the light. I must mention here the contributions of Lucas Paris, who helped me a lot in the construction and programming of the device. He’s to me a valuable collaborator,  an artist himself. He has a great passion for electronics, he excels in programming, he knows how to find the right components.”

Contrary to the more physical aspacts that have characterized his previous performances, Hypercube takes the artist elsewhere.

“It’s more nuanced, more subtle, in restraint, in nuance, in introspection. It requires me to move, but in a different dynamic, because the slightest small movement has an impact on the sound. I have to be really concentrated to succeed in this performance, it can be close to tai chi or meditation. I’m exploring another emotional zone here – very slow movements, deep breathing, more vulnerability on stage, I try to make it look as simple as possible. In my previous performances, my posture resembled that of a rock guitarist. This time, I try to avoid my show-off side. In order to make my gestures evolve, I worked with dancer and choreographer Anne Thériault, who followed me throughout the process.”  

Such interactive devices are certainly attractive when their creators use them wisely, but… when they move on to the next chapter, do they have to constantly relearn a new language without having really mastered the previous one? 

“It’s a lot of work to reinvent every time. At the same time, the more you work with technological tools and the better you understand how to work with them, the easier it gets. So the aesthetics have become clearer over the last few years, there is less wandering, I know much better where I’m going.” 

For Langevin-Tétrault, the artistic success of his Hypercube lies above all in its ability to harness the technological beast and put it at the service of the work.

“In recent years,” he notes, “we’ve seen more and more artists who can transcend the tool. You can appreciate the work without knowing exactly how it was conceived… that’s not what matters. So there’s a greater emotional charge than before in audiovisual works, it’s less cerebral, less hermetic. The audience is able to grasp what it is about, rather than how it is done.”

Photo: Lucas Paris

Photos: Ása Dýradóttir

2020 marks the 100th anniversary of Leon Theremin’s weird and wonderful electrophonic instrument, unique in that it’s played without physical contact. With its association to science fiction and horror cinema, its backstory of Cold War intrigue, and of course its unmistakable, otherworldly sound, the obscure Theremin does have a devoted following and skilled players. Among the latter is Hekla Magnúsdóttir, whose music for Theremin (with voice, and some piano) fits comfortably into the cluster of atmospheric post-rock sounds emanating from her native Iceland. Her new album Sprungur isn’t exactly a comfortable listen, though, as alluring and mesmerizing as it is. PAN M 360 corresponded with Hekla on the subject, by way of electrical impulses cast into the aether. 

PAN M360: You’re self-taught on the Theremin. Looking back now, what’s something you wish you’d known about it earlier, and conversely, something you don’t think you’d have discovered, had you been formally trained?

Hekla: I wish had I known how to properly tune it. I had many confusing moments, which probably could have been avoided had I had a trainer or any learning material. However, I am happy that I was not locked into a certain technique and that I was able to develop my own style, getting inspired by other Thereminists and incorporating some of their techniques. I don’t think any teacher would have condoned me playing the Theremin with a slice of pizza in one hand.

PAN M360: It’s been said that the saxophone is the instrument closest to the human voice, but listening to the Theremin, I’m not certain the sax can alone claim that distinction. What do you think?

Hekla: I agree. The Theremin can be heard in many renditions of songs that originally were written for a singing voice and I think it works beautifully.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZfxducDQzsQ

PAN M360: You’ve just released your second album, Sprungur. How would you compare Sprungur to your first album, 2018’s Á?

Hekla: This album features piano, which I think grounds the music more, and I would say it’s a bit more accessible because of that.

PAN M360: I think it’s a very nice gesture to start with a brief welcome. Having said that, “Velkominn” is a minute of pure apprehension! It seems to advise the listener, enter at your own risk. How would you describe the themes and emotions of Sprungur?

Hekla: This album has more of a concept than Á. On “Velkominn”, my Theremin goes through distortion and filters, and it ends up sounding like monsters welcoming you into their world.  The whole album is kind of a soundtrack to an imaginary monster realm. And there is an old Icelandic lullaby, “Sofðu unga ástin mín”, which I found really terrifying to listen to as a child, so I found it fit very well as well.

PAN M360: The piece “Aftur Og Aftur” really showcases the low-end bass of the Theremin, which is generally overlooked and underused.

Hekla: I really like putting a lot of bass into my live performances, and a lot of distortion, and getting random, uncomfortable sounds – it’s often a bit of balance to get it right in concerts because the lower frequencies can make everything shake.

PAN M360: Are you still playing in the surf band Bárujárn? That’s such a great context for the Theremin, though very different from your solo work.

Hekla: Yes! We have recorded our surf symphony for the third time now, and I think it might be the charm. It is a lot of fun to do that kind of music on the Theremin. I started out just doing sound effects on the Theremin with them, when I’d just bought my first Theremin. I think it really helped me to not give up on the instrument, because playing that kind of music was just a lot of fun and I felt no pressure to actually properly “play” the Theremin. But over time I started doing little hooks and bits, and got better and better, so I really recommend beginner Theremin players join a surf band.

PAN M360: The Theremin celebrated its 100th anniversary this year. What do you imagine people will be doing with Theremins, 100 years from now?

Hekla: That is a fantastic question. I think every household will have a Theremin by then.

(Photo: Diana Seifert)

On September 4, 2020, The Pineapple Thief launched Versions of the Truth on the Kscope label, directed by singer and guitarist Bruce Soord, keyboardist Steve Kitch, bassist Jon Sykes, and drummer Gavin Harrison. The songs are permeated with the theme of truth in these troubled times, when alternative facts abound and daily supplant objectively demonstrable facts. Joined in England, Bruce Soord told us more.

PAN M 360: The Pineapple Thief has existed since 1999, and many prog fans hold the band in high esteem, for its songwriting qualities, and the arrival of super-drummer Gavin Harrison around 2016. In 21 years of existence, The Pineapple Thief has only performed once in Montreal, at the Corona Theatre in November 2019 – why is that?

BRUCE SOORD: For years, that was just me putting out songs and records. As time went by, we started performing in front of an audience. For years, The Pineapple Thief remained more or less confidential, but our operations grew a little bit larger with each new album release. Things really changed four years ago when drummer Gavin Harrison (King Crimson, Porcupine Tree) joined my band. Yeah, it’s been a long road, but I’m certainly not complaining.  

PAN M 360: So Harrison’s impact is considerable. How do you see his contribution to the group?

BS: When Gavin joined The Pineapple Thief, we thought we were pretty good in what we did. Then we realized we had to step up, we had to get better, so we worked really hard on our live shows. I worked hard on my voice, I got singing lessons. We just knew we had a real chance to get some success, and we just took it. When we first toured with Gavin, I observed the reaction of the audience watching him playing. I was outstaged! (laughs) Then we spent a lot of time together touring and exchanging ideas.  

Now I know Gavin Harrison as a person and as an artist, not only Gavin Harrison the world-famous drummer, bla-bla-bla. It’s quite a natural relationship we have now. On stage, Gavin is playful, he likes teasing me when I make a mistake. The Pineapple Thief has not only a great new drummer, but also a creative partner. When I write a new song, I deliberately stop and send this work to Gavin, who sends it back to me with his comments, and so on. Yeah, this relationship came to blossom.

PAN M 360: After several years of work, the levels of composition and execution have therefore been raised considerably within Pineapple Thief – can we speak of a rebirth? 

BS: Absolutely! And this Pineapple Thief revival is not just about me, but a whole group, I think it’s really important. It’s no longer the way I used to work, and it leaves less room for me as a solo artist. The new Pineapple Thief is the result of a collective work, but it’s not a committee or a democracy. You have to find the right people to associate with, and then the songs can go further if other people work on them. That’s what comes out in our new record, our performance is that of a more cohesive group.

PAN M 360: Can we even speak of a golden age for The Pineapple Thief, so long after its founding?

BS: It seems incredible to me that we are achieving worldwide success after so many years of existence. For a 21-year-old group, that’s certainly unusual. With our new album, we feel like we’re listening to a more cohesive band. It’s quite incredible that we’ve recently become a successful band all over the world. That must be pretty unusual for a 21-year-old band. I’m touching wood because it’s a great time for The Pineapple Thief. Yes, we’re taking full advantage of it, despite the pandemic. Since our North American tour is inevitably postponed, we’re going back to the studio for a project that will be released in about a year’s time. Also, I will probably record a new solo album. So we have to make the most of this situation.

PAN M 360: The Pineapple Thief is associated with prog rock style, what does that mean to you?

BS: Today, I’m more relaxed than I’ve ever been about my allegiance to progressive rock and what it represents. I’m happy to be part of a progressive rock band, but it’s such a vast territory, there are so many sub-genres, so many styles! For my part, the approach hasn’t really changed since I started: I take my guitar, a song is started. Personally, I like for a recording to hook you. For that, you need a song, you need a hook. That’s why I don’t like music that’s too technical, I don’t like to patch up songs with long instrumental sections just to call it prog.

At the same time, I don’t want to be a simple author of superficial pop songs. I want depth, I want to reveal the substance of a song. Finding the balance is a real challenge. Now I’m happy because I feel that we have found our sound. We don’t venture into progressive metal, for example, we don’t rely on shredding on the guitar. Some bands do it very well, not us. We wouldn’t be very good at it. In fact, we’re a more conventional rock band, but it’s similar to current progressive rock. That’s what I’ve been trying to perfect for 20 years of my life, creating visceral songs that connect with people.

Gavin Harrison (drums), Bruce Soord (guitar/vocals), Jon Sykes (bass/vocals), Steve Kitch (keyboards) – Photo: Diana Seifert

PAN M 360: So The Pineapple Thief wouldn’t correspond to the idea of progressive rock that many fans subscribe to, would it?

BS: Progressive rock fans would see their style on top of other styles. You have to be more complex, smarter, lead the listener into more demanding areas… Personally, I’m wary of this perception of superiority, even though our style allows us to venture into any musical territory. In fact, I would remind you that we have already recorded with large string sections. I know that prog often involves crossovers with classical music, that it integrates long and complex instrumental sequences. But that’s not what we do. We have to create a good song before we package it. Of course, some of the productions on the latest album are quite atmospheric, sometimes dramatic, they also have electronic advances but… I always have to be able to play each song with an acoustic guitar. That’s the key.

PAN M 360 : Critics of prog denounce the relative immobility of the form, often bogged down in the ’70s and ’80s, how can that be escaped? What are the possible advances? 

BS: The advancement of electronic music is important to us, we’re trying to take advantage of this innovative knowledge.  As such, we can’t do much new with the forms of the ’70s, with guitar, analog keyboards, bass, drums, but that doesn’t mean we have to throw everything away. All these instruments are just tools. On this new album, in fact, I was interested in new ways of recording and treating the guitar, in the atmosphere, I wanted to make a traditional band relevant in today’s world, without falling into overproduction. 

Because we’re playing live, in the studio, I always have in mind how it’s going to work on stage. It has to be great live because Steve is going to do this on the keyboard and Gavin is going to do that on the drums, and it’s going to work. I keep adding things, trying things until everybody in the band agrees. Sometimes I’d try things that didn’t work, and then I’d come back and choose what I did originally. It’s a bit of a trial and error process to get to the song where we wanted it to be. The electronic beatmaking and the instrumental recording kind of come together.

PAN M 360 : The lyrics of Versions of the Truth were written in a troubled period for the West, to say the least, how were the themes expressed?  

BS: The title song of the album was written in October 2018. The idea for Versions of the Truth came up, a theme that seems today relevant to me given the state of the world, disinformation, social polarization, and the fragility of human relationships. It’s a very strange time, where different people’s visions of the truth confront each other. They firmly believe in their perception of reality, but this is only one version of the truth, which is why they argue, fight, break up their relationships of love or friendship. Everything is distorted, and that inspires me. There is a lot to write about.

Alternative facts… alternative truths… alternative prog.

(Photo credit: Anachnid)

Based in Montreal, Anachnid is a hunter from the Far North as well as a city dweller in the South. Released last February, her album Dreamweaver reconciles these two worlds: one is more spiritual, linked to nature and the traditions of her ancestors, the other is more urban, punctuated by the nightlife of downtown Montreal. Each piece makes us discover a part of the web that the artist has woven from her animal spirit, the spider. Delicate, protective but biting and venomous at the same time, Anahnid reveals a little more of her personality in preparation for her concert at the FME festival this Saturday.

PAN M 360: The concert venue for your appearance at the FME is kept secret – what can we expect?

Anachnid: In my culture, pow wows were secret places too, because we weren’t allowed to dance or have rituals, so for me it’s a little bit of a reminder of the past, of my ancestors. Anachnid is very minimalist, but I always do a small performance, like I wear black clothes. At other times, I have little horns from deer that my godfather and my father hunted together. I always have a cultural element that I bring with me. Sometimes drums, a small flute, it depends on how I feel the energy of each event. I have a band now too. I played with them for the first time in Quebec City, one is on guitar and drum, the other on the keyboard for the samples, it’s really interesting as a vibe.

PAN M 360: Your totem animal is the spider. I would be curious to know more, how did it come to you?

Anachnid: It’s always an elder who gives the animal spirit to someone. I was still a difficult, complicated teenager. It helps the parent to know the child’s totem pole. It was an elder who gave me the spider. The spider protects children from evil spirits. I lived with a lot of nightmares, so I learned to make dreamcatchers to protect myself. For it to really work, you have to make your own dreamcatcher, because it is your own energy. A dreamcatcher is actually a spider’s web that protects people from their bad dreams. At dawn, when you see water on the spider’s web, that’s when the dream is purified. That’s why we put little marbles in the dream catchers, to represent the water and the elements of the earth.

PAN M 360: What about your album?

Anachnid: When a spider breaks a leg, it grows back. I fractured my left foot, so I made my album in a wheelchair. I had like four legs, I was half machine, half human, it was weird. I fell into a bit of a psychosis because I couldn’t walk. That’s how I made my album, with all the pain, the vulnerability of depending on others. I really felt like a spider. I realized that when you are in psychosis, 75 percent of your thoughts are not true. So you stay calm like that (laughs). It’s a phase of my life that I’m glad I’m not living anymore. I got all the pain out, so being in my 40s was almost a game for me, to stay inside. I learned to love myself in my forties too, to rebuild my nest. There is a pandemic every hundred years, you just have to look at the instructions of the past, how they survived. It’s knowledge that helps us through unstable periods.

PAN M 360: The traditional Indigenous references contrast a lot with the more modern electro and trap sounds you use.

Anachnid: It’s a little wink, in Indigenous culture there are trap lines, to catch game. I draw parallels, the album is really a spider’s web. There are little First Nations references in it. It encompasses the web, like a dream catcher. You need something concrete to hold the web. My web is made of something spiritual, then around it, it’s the machine, it’s metal. You have water, a metal wire, then it creates electricity. With electricity you can create sound, with sound you can create music. These are parallels with nature.

PAN M 360: Your album has been selected for the short list of the Polaris Prize. Also in the running is Backxwash, who’s also playing at the FME.

Anachnid: Yes, I’m in contact with her. I really like her music. When I listen to it, I feel like there’s a side of me that mirrors this tribal, bloody energy.

PAN M 360: This side is also found in your song “Windigo”.

Anachnid: It’s the first song I did, it was recognized by the national Indigenous Songwriter of the Year Award. I was still happy, because a lot of my family members didn’t approve of my anger. But it was an expression of a frequency that I shared. My drinking was affecting my friends around me a lot, it was affecting me too. I still had that side of my ancestors that prevented me from “fully letting go”. It’s a little bit about that, about consumption, capitalism. Yes, I drink and then I smoke, it doesn’t mean that the indigenous people should be stereotyped because I drink and smoke (she sings the “Windigo” refrain). It’s the capitalist system that programmed me to stay there as a minority, to consume and then not flourish.

They put us in a corner, in a reserve, literally. Reserves protect our identity, but they are also a poisoned gift. I think there are 52 indigenous communities that lack water. I think it’s really appalling. With the pipelines, it’s like shooting yourself in the foot. There is a lot of sex-work trafficking, indigenous women often disappearring. People say it’s to protect the land and water, but it’s also to protect women. There really is a problem in the system. Canada is much darker, like “Windigo”, than you think. There is an injustice.

Photo: Dominic Berthiaume

His name isn’t Personne, and he’s a somebody. Behind the pseudonym is Jonathan Robert, illustrator, director of several music videos and, incidentally, guitarist and singer in Corridor. His new solo effort, Disparitions, is an album where nods to classic rock and spaghetti Western soundtracks are intertwined with Personne’s very personal indie rock. It’s also an album that capped a low point for the musician. After a very busy year, Jonathan Personne had found himself at the end of his rope. Not necessarily unhappy, but overwhelmed, exhausted. Disparitions was a sort of valve and an outlet for the artist, a way to find himself and recharge his batteries. Jonathan Robert tells us about his reappearance.

PAN M 360: What does the title Disparitions (“disappearances”) mean to you, and why in the plural? There are several disappearances?

Jonathan Personne: I always title my albums with the title of a song that appears on it. I did that for my previous one, Histoire Naturelle, and for Corridor as well. I try to choose the song that best represents the vibe of the album. “Disparitions” talks a lot about the last year, which was pretty special. A lot of things happened in my life. The signing [of Corridor] with Sub Pop, the tours that followed… So, in 2019 I released my first solo album Histoire Naturelle, then we composed, recorded, and released Corridor’s Junior, there were other tours, I made three music videos, did a lot of illustrations… Arriving in the summer (2019), I had a big shutdown, I had pushed myself to the limit. I didn’t recognize myself anymore. I realised that I was neglecting my personal life in favour of my professional life. So I had to keep only what was essential, and say no to several professional offers. And I also didn’t want to make so much music that I would be fed up with it. So I took a little break, and it did me good. So by disappearance, I mean that I was the one who was disappearing with all that.

PAN M 360: Who did you work with for this record?

JP: I went to Pantoum studio in Quebec City. I particularly like this studio because they record in analogue. I was looking for a sound that didn’t seem to be tampered with. I worked with Emmanuel Éthier (Chocolat, Bernhari…) for the production, and Guillaume Chiasson (Ponctuation, Bon Enfant, Jésuslesfilles…) for the sound engineering. These are people I know well. I like to be with friends to record, I feel more comfortable. We’ve done it quite a bit live, as a group. I wanted to keep those little flaws that give charm. It was my first time recording outside of Montreal. When you record in a studio in Montreal, you go back home after the session, you go back to your little habits while there, we were all focused on the project. We only had that to do. We recorded in the fall of 2019, in about a week. 

PAN M 360: How did the songwriting go?

JP: The first album, I did it over four years on a 4-track. I had no knowledge of recording. That was different, I didn’t know what I wanted. For this new album, I had ideas for songs that were a few years old. Last summer, after the episode of overwork, it inspired me to write new songs and rearrange the others. Then I made it all happen with my musicians.

PAN M 360: What is the difference between Histoire Naturelle and Disparitions?

JP: For Disparitions, I wanted to try more indie-rock patterns, even make a more classic rock album. I don’t know if I succeeded. I can’t put into words what a classic rock album is, but in my head and what’s on the album is what I had in mind. I also had inspirations from spaghetti Western soundtracks that I wanted to add through it all. I went in two directions, mixing them together. The first album is more dreamy, it has an aspect I wouldn’t call melancholic but a bit nostalgic. While for the second record, I was looking to do something more raw. I put much less effects in my voice.

PAN M 360: What makes Jonathan Personne different from Corridor? 

JP: The themes are much more personal in my solo projects. When I write a song for Corridor, I don’t know whether it’ll be me or Dominique (Berthiaume) who will sing it. But in this case, I know that only I will sing. I get more emotion out of it. 

PAN M 360: Would Jonathan Personne be a vehicle for doing everything you don’t allow yourself to do with Corridor?

JP: With Corridor, there is an effort to compose as a group; we all come up with our own ideas. While with Jonathan Personne, I have a lot of things in mind to put together the song – the drums, the bass line… It’s really another trip. With Corridor, I’m not able to make a demo, whereas I don’t have any problem with Jonathan Personne…

PAN M 360: You were talking about classic rock a little earlier, the press release also mentions it, just like the spaghetti Western soundtracks. If I hadn’t read it, I would never have noticed it… 

JP: That’s quite all right! My intention was to do that, but I know I always get lost on the way. (laughs) 

PAN M 360: The song “Terre des hommes” has a little riff from “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper” by Blue Öyster Cult, doesn’t it? Is that your classic-rock wink?

JP: I’ve been told that! I was thinking more like Neil Young with Crazy Horse, or something like that. I have some pretty classic-rock references on this album. Take the song “Springsteen”, I named it like that to confuse the issue, because it’s more “Sultans of Swing” by Dire Straits that inspired me for this song. The goal was to take elements from the ’60s and ’70s that have always influenced me, from the ’80s too, and put it all together.

PAN M 360: Aren’t you very indie or alternative in your musical tastes?

JP: Yes, I like things from the ’90s, even 2000. On the other hand, I try not to let myself be influenced too much by these genres of music, or by what’s being done at the moment. I know that inevitably I’m going to do something that will have a contemporary flavour, there’s no escaping that. The fact remains that I didn’t make a retro album but rather added elements, or retro winks. The goal is to appropriate the genre, but not to copy it. 

PAN M 360: You do a lot of illustrations – do you create the design for all your covers?

JP: Yes, and I find that quite important. Some people use their faces more to sell their music, but I have always opted for an illustration. I’ve been drawing for a long time. I started by making flyers for shows, then posters and videos. 

PAN M 360: Any projects in the near future? There are many musicians who, as soon as their new album is released, are already working on another one at this exceptional time.

JP: That’s what’s happening to me at the moment, I’m already working on the next album. As much as I didn’t have time for myself a year ago, now I have plenty of time for myself. And there’s also a new Corridor album in the works. And I’d say that’s a bit of a deal for me because I prefer to compose and record rather than tour. I love doing shows, that’s clear, but I have more satisfaction in creation…. I’ve nevertheless enjoyed the last few months, I won’t hide it from you (laughs). What’s a pity is that we were on a good track with Corridor. We were starting to do shows again, tours, we had booked dates in great festivals, we had better conditions, we had momentum and all that disappeared… Well, I’m not the only one in this situation so I shouldn’t cry. But fortunately it doesn’t stop me from making music, so it’s not all fucked up!

• A Disparitions listening session takes place on September 10, 2020 at L’Esco (free event)

• Jonathan Personne is on stage at the Rialto Theatre on September 23, as part of the Pop Montreal festival

Photo: Mathieu Fortin

Established in 2009 by Victoria, BC native Laura Lloyd and Californian Jasamine White-Gluz, No Joy began their shoegaze epic with riffs exchanged via email, before White-Gluz moved to Montreal. Six singles, three EPs and four albums were born from this fruitful collaboration, until Lloyd left the ship in 2015, shortly after the release of More Faithful, leaving White-Gluz alone to stare bereft at her footwear. Now in charge of the band’s destiny, White-Gluz ventured slightly outside of shoegaze, notably during her collaboration with ex-Spacemen 3 member Peter Kember (Sonic Boom), on the No Joy/Sonic Boom EP of 2018, where she set aside the six-string in favour of electronic tools. 

It’s with this spirit of openness that White-Gluz attacked the composition of the band’s fifth album, Motherhood. Although No Joy had shown an interest in ingredients other than shoegaze from the beginning, notably the often groovy bass and glittering pop flights, this new effort takes the Montreal band elsewhere, while remaining firmly rooted in the basics of the genre. Trip-hop, nu-metal, and trance are now added to No Joy’s menu. Jasamine White-Gluz told us about the creation of this album, which could well redefine the boundaries of shoegaze.

Photo: Mathieu Fortin

PAN M 360: Motherhood, which has just been released, is the first full-length album without guitarist Laura Lloyd. Did her departure change your way of composing? Listening to this new record, it feels like you’ve given yourself more freedom.

Jasamine White-Gluz: Laura left five years ago; there was no drama, no tragedy, it was just that she had come to terms with what she wanted to do with No Joy, and wanted to move on. So the last record she was on was More Faithful in 2015. Garland Hastings, our drummer since the beginning, left in 2017, after the release of the Creep EP. With him too, it went well, we could see it coming, so nobody was surprised when he announced he was leaving. For sure, their departure changed the dynamics of the band. I would say that it provoked a different kind of collaboration. You know, we’ve played together for so long and made so many records, it’s normal that it affects the band; that’s why I did these three EPs before Motherhood. I wanted to see where I was going because after Laura left, I was in charge of a lot of the compositions and the destiny of the band. I see these departures more as a progression, after all. So these EPs allowed me to further define my style, and what No Joy would become.

PAN M 360: With the elements of trip-hop, trance, and nu-metal found on Motherhood, would you say you’ve made a radical change from what No Joy used to do?

JWG: I’d say so. For me, shoegaze is not just “rock”, it implies certain manipulations of sounds… Take Kevin Shields for example. He did remixes, had fun with drum loops… Or Primal Scream. They started out as a shoegaze band and then branched off into something much more danceable with Screamadelica, while still retaining the essence of shoegaze. Which means that shoegaze can include all kinds of things, and Motherhood is for me an extension of that.

PAN M 360: Would you say it’s No Joy’s most ambitious album?

JWG: Absolutely, definitely. This is the album where I tried everything (laughs). All the ideas I had, all of them! A lot of times, I’ve tried an idea and wondered if it’s stupid or interesting, but I’ve really tried everything instead of trying to stick to a style. And we’ve kept almost everything! At one point we said to ourselves, what if we added a baby’s laughter?, and it ended up on the record! It wasn’t easy to fit all these different sounds into the mix, though…

PAN M 360 : How did the creation of  Motherhood play out?

JWG: I started making demos in 2016. Always with guitar and vocals. I was doing this with [multi-instrumentalist] Jorge Elbrecht [Ariel Pink, Sky Ferreira…], with whom I’ve been collaborating since the album Wait To Pleasure (2013). He really understands what I’m trying to do in terms of sound. So when we came into the studio, the goal was just to have fun. I wanted to give the feeling we had fun making this record. We recorded it in Montreal, at the studio Toute Garnie, which belongs to Braids. 

PAN M 360: Your sister Alissa, who plays guitar with Arch Enemy, is also on the album. Is this the first time you’ve collaborated with her?

JWG: Yes, it’s the first time we’ve worked together since we’re adults. We’re rarely in the same place at the same time, and when it happened, we felt we had to do something together. 

PAN M 360 : So, she’s where the nu-metal sounds on the record come from?

JWG: Um… no. I’m older than her, I grew up listening to nu-metal, whereas she’s more purist, more into Swedish metal. She knows a lot more about metal than I do! So the nu-metal on the record, it comes from me… and I still like it! (laughs)

PAN M 360 : You come from a musical family, right?

JWG: No, not really. It’s just me and my sister who play music in my family. But my parents, on the other hand, are great music lovers. There was always music playing at home, and my mother has a huge collection of vinyls. There were also always instruments lying around at home, so my sister and I used to play with keyboards, guitars… It must have been very annoying for my parents, because we made a lot of noise. We didn’t know how to play, but that’s how we learned. 

PAN M 360: Who else is on the album?

JWG: So there’s Tara McLeod, who was in the teen metal band Kittie. She’s been playing with me for about three years, and I can tell you she’s the best guitarist I’ve ever met. She plays so amazingly – it’s crazy! I’m nothing compared to her. Our new drummer is Jamie Thompson, who played with Unicorns, Islands, Esmerine. He’s really talented too. These two exceptional musicians have really helped me improve myself. Madeleine Campbell, who is our touring sound engineer and who knows us very well, did the production with Chris Walla of Death Cab for Cutie. We were lucky because he was there in the studio when we were recording, so he helped us out. He was in Montreal for a good six months, I think – we were lucky! 

PAN M 360: About the title, did you pick it because you became a mother?

JWG: No, not at all! In fact many of the songs on the record revolve around people getting older, mothers, fertility, family… Observations I made of friends, my family, myself, the relationships of people around me with their mothers and grandmothers… Family in general, femininity, fertility, what is a mother, who can be a mother, what is the role of a mother… The fact remains that I’m not a good storyteller, I prefer people to make up their own minds about the lyrics. I didn’t realize, when I was writing these songs, that they were more or less on the same subject. So I thought that the word “motherhood” fit well with all these themes – and I think it sounds a bit metal too! (laughs)

Photo: Mariana Reyes

Meridian Brothers is the project that Colombian multi-instrumentalist Eblis Álvarez started in 1998, and which serves as a kind of musical laboratory to explore all kinds of Colombian and Latin American sounds, with a special affection for cumbia and salsa. Álvarez, who composes lyrics and music and generally records all the instruments found on the Meridian Brothers’ albums, is however accompanied on stage by other musicians. Like the eight previous albums, the latest from Meridian Brothers distills an experimental cumbia spiced up with tropicalism, salsa, chicha, and vallenato, forming a playful, avant-garde and often completely wacky mix to which are added elements of rock, pop, new wave, and electro. 

For Cumbia Siglo XXI, Meridian Brothers’ ninth album, Álvarez has taken a more electronic turn. After the resolutely acoustic ¿Dónde estás María? released in 2017, the mad scientist of cumbia, who’s active in Ondatrópica, Frente Cumbiero, and Los Pirañas, among others, has tried a new experiement, taking Fernando Rosales and Ramiro Beltran’s group Cumbia Siglo XX, well known in the 1980s for its futuristic vision of cumbia, as a reference, along with other groups such as Grupo Folclórico and 2000 Voltios, for example. Taking the work of Rosales and Beltran as a source of inspiration, Álvarez has somehow adapted it to the 21st century, its instruments and tools. Thus, several drum machines, guitars, synths and software were used in the creation of this new album by Meridian Brothers, on which are found various urban beats, synth grooves, and glitches mixed with all sorts of swear words and Colombian slang.

Stuck at home in his neighbourhood in Bogotá due to severe confinement, the versatile Eblis Alvarez was kind enough to deconstruct all this and explain his singular approach to us. 

Photo: Mariana Reyes

PAN M 360: Eblis, can you elaborate on the link between this new Meridian Brothers album and the group Cumbia Siglo XX?

Eblis Álvarez: When I started thinking about the style I wanted to give to this new album, I thought about this funky approach to tambor music that was mostly found in the area of Baranquilla, and on the Felito and Machuca labels, between the late ’70s and the mid-’80s. It was a trend where they mixed more traditional music such as bujerengue, puya, cumbia, fandango, and drums associated with traditional music, with funky bass and disco grooves. So I wanted to try that same kind of approach, but in the 21st century. So I simply called this record Cumbia Siglo XXI. But it’s not a 21st century cumbia record as we know it today, it’s a mix of different things.

PAN M 360: What’s the difference between this new album and the previous ¿Dónde estás María?

EA: Well, ¿Dónde estás María?, I would call that global song. Let me explain – it’s not a term you find in music books, it’s just a term I made up. For me, the best representation of global song would be the Beatles, a British band that has become known all over the world. So this rock, pop, folk sound with strings, brass and all kinds of other instruments, you can find it in Asia, in Brazil, in Colombia, with some traditional or typical elements from these different parts of the world, but with the same kind of style and structure as a Beatles song, for example. So I followed this approach and I applied it to the cumbia, but in a more acoustic way with a lot of strings, especially the cello, since I’ve been playing it for 20 years. So that’s what I’ve been working on for ¿Dónde estás María? As far as Cumbia Siglo XXI is concerned, I’ve been more into the spheres of the modern cumbia that you hear everywhere, made with synths and computers and mixed with electronic music. So by staying in the spheres of modern cumbia, the way it’s approached today, I tried to do something creative by crossing with this more typical cumbia approach, like bands like Cumbia Siglo XX were doing.

PAN M 360: I’m not an expert on Colombian vernacular, but I hear you using a lot of swear words and slang on Cumbia Siglo XXI.

EA: It’s another ingredient I wanted to add to the mixture, something censored. Because all the swear words are censored by myself on the record. You can guess them, but I replaced them with beeps or blips that blend well with the music. You can hear that on eight of the ten songs on the album. That’s another one of the rules I set myself for the album.

PAN M 360 : There are several styles of cumbia, which do you prefer?

EA: There are three main branches of cumbia. First, international cumbia, which has spread to Mexico, Argentina, and Peru. Each of these countries has developed its own cumbia, depending on the different influences that have been integrated into it. Then there is the global cumbia, which is more modern, very electronic, and is found mainly in these same countries, but also in Ecuador and of course in Colombia. It’s from these two lines of cumbia that Meridian Brothers originates and feeds off. Then there’s a third branch, that of traditional Colombian cumbia which has spread its roots to different styles of music. That’s something I’d like to do, in other words, dive seriously into all these different forms of Colombian cumbia. So cumbia is a lot more complex than we think, it has ramifications everywhere, different sources and is very often mixed with other styles of music. And although it is said to have originated in Colombia, it’s mostly the ones from Argentina and Mexico that most people are familiar with. 

PAN M 360: What are you trying to accomplish in the long term with the Meridian Brothers project?

EA: I’m not necessarily trying to accomplish anything with this project, I see it more as my playground. It’s my way of occupying my time while I’m waiting to die (laughs). I mean, I’ve got to do something to pass the time, and Meridian Brothers is one of those activities. It’s a very personal thing that’s become a little less personal. But I don’t have any other intentions. I don’t have any political intentions or the goal of achieving public recognition, it’s just a consequence of the times we live in, I don’t see what else I could do. But basically, it was a project for me and my friends.

PAN M 360: You’re involved in various projects outside the Meridian Brothers, do you have anything going on right now?

EA : I’m actually always doing a couple of things at the same time. I’m working with Grupo Renacimiento, with whom I’m trying to reproduce, as faithfully as possible, the Colombian salsa of the ’70s [which the writer of this article invites you to discover, if you haven’t already done so]; I’m also doing a neo-perreo album with the Meridian Brothers right now, which is a kind of post-reggaeton; I’m mixing a new album with Los Pirañas in which there will be horns, and I’m thinking of continuing the Los Suicidas trilogy that I started with Meridian Brothers in 2015, so making a new album that would be like elevator music with a lot of organ… So yes, I have a lot of work going on right now! 

TJIW Photos: Ed Marshall Photography

Jeanty, Momin recalls, “was the first person that I met who was channeling electronics with this spiritual vibe. I’d never really experienced that. I’d only heard experimental electronics like blips and screech, or very much four-on-the floor techno in New York. So it was incredible to hear experimentation rooted in Haitian rhythms, and have it still be all digital.”

“Working with Momin has been exciting,” says Jeanty, “because in the Indian culture, the music is very spiritual. So, we have that connection instantly. And he’s also very progressive, pushing it as far as using triggers, using Ableton Live. That’s the stuff that I love. It’s just great to have similar aspirations as far as keeping connected to the culture, but working with electronic instruments.”

PAN M 360 corresponded with TJIW for more insights into what they do.

PAN M 360: When we posted about the video for your track “Our Reflection Adorned by Newly Formed Stars”, we took the opportunity to establish a new category in our database – drum music. The term doesn’t necessarily mean music that’s exclusively drumming, but rather, that’s centered around drums and percussion. Do you think the term is accurate in the case of TJIW?

Turning Jewels Into Water: Of course, lots of music ensembles out there, from Afrobeat to salsa, come with a large percussion section – which is necessary to propel the music. While the percussion becomes an essential component, it’s not the only thing that defines the music, as there are plenty of other melodic and harmonic elements in play. In a similar manner, I’m more inclined to think of our own music as “folk music from nowhere”, as we’re also taking melodic inspirations from global folk music traditions and blending them with Haitian, Indian, and other rhythms from underground dance music, such as kuduro and gqom.

PAN M 360: Because drums, beats, and percussion – the sounds of which a brief and pronounced, rather than sustained or extensively variable – are so fundamental in your music, it feels like there’s a strong sense of space, of the positioning of sounds within space.

TJIW: Indeed! To follow up to my point above, while we certainly derive musical inspiration from those melodic elements, we do write the tracks with the rhythms first, so what you’re saying makes sense. We’re also blending digital and analog elements along with samples and field recordings, which helps add a sonic richness and spaciousness to our sound.

PAN M 360: It’s mentioned that there is an aspect of ritual to your music, which I can certainly hear. Rituals have a purpose, an intended outcome. What are yours?

TJIW: Our musical rituals focus on using drones, repetitive patterns and ancient chants to take the listener on a musical journey through their subconscious realms. We hope to instill a reflection on the present state of things, and also hope to inspire change and positive action.

PAN M 360: One cool thing about percussion-based music is it allows a lot of room for other musicians to get on board, so to speak – and dancers too, opening up even wider creative possibilities. What can you us tell about the collaborations on your record?

TJIW: We strive not to simply be performative of our individual cultural identities. I’d approached various guests and remix artists who were challenging norms in their own way.

Iranian singer and daf player Kamyar Arsani, based in Washington D.C., is just as comfortable with punk rock as he is with traditional Iranian music. Mpho Molikeng, a master musician of South African indigenous instruments, based in Lesotho, also works with electronic musicians. Producer Laughing Ears is based in Shanghai, and is as influenced by Buddhist chants as she is by footwork. EMB is a producer and drummer from Réunion Island who combines her African heritage with techno and other electronic music as well.

We’ve also always worked with different types of dancers in live performances as well as video shoots, to further highlight the ritual aspects of the music.

Above (clockwise from top left): EMB, Mpho Molikeng, Laughing Ears, Kamyar Arsani

PAN M 360: I’d like to zoom in on the first track, “Swirl in the Waters”, to find out more about it, and about Kamyar Arsani’s involvement.

TJIW: Kamyar runs a broad range of music, as mentioned. For this track, I’d specifically asked him to create lyrics based on the importance of water for human beings, without giving him further guidelines. He ended up with a beautiful poem in Farsi, which focused on the contrast between the vastness of an ocean and the shrinking timeframe for addressing climate change. The driving percussion, which is the focus of this song, is a blend of Iranian rhythms and vogue beats. 

PAN M 360: “Kerala in my Heart” is a particularly fun track. In an odd way, it makes me think of the big beat genre of the late ’90s, Fatboy Slim, Propellerheads, and so on. What can you tell us about that track?

TJIW: Rhythms from Kerala collide with chopped and spiced vocals, while melodic fragments of the kombu, an ancient wind instrument only found only in South India, harmonize with vintage synths to capture the spirit of the street festivals of Kerala that exists in my heart.

PAN M 360: Art Jones’ video for “Our Reflection”, mentioned above, speaks to the story of the Siddhi, an Afro-diasporic community in India and Pakistan. I think their story merits some mention.

TJIW: the Siddis are believed to have descended from the Bantu people of the East African region who first came to India in 628 A.D. They were merchants, sailors, mercenaries, and some even rose to political power within Indian territories. Their population is currently estimated to be around 350,000, mainly in the states of Karnataka, Gujurat, and Andhra Pradesh in India, and Makran and Karachi in Pakistan. Siddis are primarily Muslim, although some do belong to other religions as well. They have been marginalized and are not considered a part of mainstream societies.

As the Black Lives Matter movement rightfully gains prominence in the world, it’s important to note that anti-blackness is embedded in most Asian and Arab cultures as well. Siddis have had their histories erased, and as a child growing up in Mumbai, I never learned about Janjira, Malik Ambar, the African Hashbi Sultans of Bengal, Sidi Saeed, or other luminaries.

We all have a responsibility to address the anti-blackness that is systemic and deeply rooted across the globe as well, before meaningful structural change – and regime change – will be possible.

PAN M 360: Looping back to the topic of terminology, another descriptor I’m inclined to use is “supernational” – transcending formally recognized borders. There is, appropriately, a marvelous international movement, predicated heavily on drums and electronics, addressing this idea musically. Strongly rooted, but also fiercely forward-moving. TJIW strikes me as very much part of that.

TJIW: I don’t think I could have said it better than this. For sure, I’ve always sought to create “music without borders,” even with past projects I’ve led such as Tarana. In TJIW, I’ve still preserved those aspirations, and I hope to create a music that can be cerebral and body-shaking simultaneously.

PAN M 360: A common feature of this musical movement is an inclination to create music for a sort of imaginary “somewhere else”. I wonder how much this reflects a restlessness, a dissatisfaction with where one is at any time. What do you think?

TJIW: It’s not so much restlessness as it is a reflection of our hybrid influences.  Especially given that we live in Brooklyn, New York, which is truly a meeting of all races and backgrounds.  That dissatisfaction to which you refer can stem from the frustration with a world presently focused on artificial borders, and denying the human history of constant migration.

(Photo: Maya Fuhr)

Clearly, the golden age of the “Montreal sound” is far behind us. The hipster generation is in its forties, Arcade Fire and the rest have toured the world, we’re two decades later and… here are new residents with big dreams, more inclined to R&B than indie rock. Busty & the Bass have the firm intention of conquering the global soul-pop market, this time blending with hip-hop, electro, and jazz.

“I’m from Washington D.C.,” says Johnson. “When I was 17, I came to Montreal, almost nine years ago, to study music at McGill, where I met all my friends in the band, and I decided to stay. Montreal is a great place to be for everything I’m interested in.”

The new album from Busty & the Bass was built around a concept: Eddie. Johnson offers an outline.

“Eddie‘s a fictional character. The record as a whole is a kind of mixtape, conceived as a message for our young selves, a kind of beacon that serves as a light at the end of the tunnel, that helps us get through the difficult moments and the uncertainty that overwhelm us, that helps us reflect on what we have been and what we have become today.”

For Johnson, Eddie represents an important and even decisive advance in the development of Busty & the Bass.

“It’s certainly a huge step forward, after a long and winding journey. This new album is a kind of pinnacle of our pop output, and a dream in terms of the characteristics we were able to achieve on this record. We went into the studio and used it more as an instrument. We did a fully fleshed-out recording process there, done by real, live musicians. When you express that through eight musicians, incredible things come out of it. A lot of lushness, more maturity acquired in writing, in the instrumentation and in production. So, yeah it’s a big step in that direction. In addition, we have diversified the musical genres even more, you’ll hear more jazz and classical influences, for example, chamber-music sections have been woven into pop songs. I think it’s a wonderful encounter that comes across beautifully.”

From the very beginning of their recording career, the musicians of Busty & the Bass were able to work with producer Neal Pogue, whose resume is impressive – Outkast, Anderson Paak, Janelle Monáe, Tyler the Creator, Nicki Minaj, and Earth, Wind & Fire, to list a few.

“Neal is originally from New Jersey, he worked in Atlanta for a while producing and mixing, and then moved to Los Angeles. I think it’s really cool for us to work with someone of that stature, who was involved in the music industry even before the digital era, because many recording practices from before get lost. The nature of production used to mean working with a group of instrumentalists, whereas nowadays, most of the time, producers create the track and the singer goes on top. Neil has worked with big bands like Earth, Wind & Fire – here with us in the studio is someone who helps create the sound and facilitate our musical journey.

“I think the most interesting part is going through a second full-length album process with the same producer. It’s just beautiful working with somebody who knows all the personalities, and is able to get the best out of us. Pogue has really helped us all grow as individuals and musicians. He always says that for him working with us as a band was like having eight kids. That was such an honour to collaborate with amazing artists and elders in the music industry.”

It should also be noted that Pogue’s network includes Verdine White. The legendary bassist of Earth, Wind & Fire participated in the production of this album.

“Verdine got involved with us after seeing a couple of our shows in Los Angeles. He and Nick had meetings in L.A. about our recording sessions, he’s been a great supporter, providing feedback on our songs, thinking about the best selection, and he and Nick have done some writing together for us. Pretty unbelievable, actually! When I was a kid, I was going to give my dad a record as a birthday present, I bought this Earth, Wind & Fire compilation. Then I played bass along with this music.”

In addition to Michigan rappers Illa J and Jon Connor, Busty & the Bass had a special guest. The legendary George Clinton, one of the founding fathers of psychedelic funk, expressed himself on the song “Baggy Eyed Dope Man”.

“George Clinton is one of my living idols. Just for his ability to create his Parliament-Funkadelic universe, and also his side projects. Musically, visually, conceptually, he’s such a legend, we are so indebted to him for everything he’s given to the music. So yeah, we got the idea of having him featured, we developed the song around that so we also put in a doo-wop section, reminiscent of his early days. We were super lucky to have him.”

Another guest star on Eddie’s programme is the singer Macy Gray, who enjoyed a heyday at the turn of the 2000s.

“Our relationship with Macy Gray goes back a while because we covered her stuff at our early beginnings as a group. With this song ‘Out Of Love’ developing, we had suggested her feature… we thought it was hilarious and would never happen. Neal had also worked with her, it was just a lucky line in. I really love what she ended up doing on the track. Incredible musical and writing abilities, such a pleasure to work with her on this.”

Busty & the Bass choose an approach reconciling neo-soul, R&B, hip-hop, and jazz groove mixed with electro and the legacy of legendary combos such as Earth, Wind & Fire, Parliament-Funkadelic, Tower of Power and Average White Band. The brass and reed arrangements are reminiscent of Roy Hargrove’s work for D’Angelo… 

What’s up? Retro-nuovo? Not quite, Johnson suggests.

“With us, it’s a constant effort for a new combination of sounds, we’re really lucky to have come up just being very aware of our musical history, the legacy that we’d learned from and our walking through the lineage of. So it’s a never-ending process, there’s always a new way of recontextualizing stuff that we’ve already learned. We are interested in a massive scope of different music that have been produced, even in the last five years, but we also have a connection with music from the previous decades. 

“Everybody writes in the band, we’re trying to blend so many different voices, to keep them unique but also not water them down. We stay true to the history, but we also try to create something new. Moving forward, we’re constantly building upon a foundation that we handed down to us. It is one of the most exciting drivers for us.”

Respect for the past, openness to the future… necessarily marked by the digital environment. For an octet made up of university-educated instrumentalists, this is another ecosystem to be mastered in order to avoid redundancy and nostalgia.

“We’re instrumentalists, but many of us are producers in our individual side projects. Many of those projects are very influenced by electronic music, from techno to dubstep to electronic jazz. One of the super exciting things in this band is being able to bridge those two worlds. There’s not a ton of overlap, but you’re able to express so much with so little. You can now take an acoustic piano and make it sound like anything you want. I think that there’s so much freedom and opportunity in a studio production context, especially when you’re working with such beautiful recorded material. Yeah, we aim for a beautiful blend between instruments and an electronic approach.”

As for transposing the material to the stage, it has to wait a while, pandemic and all. Nevertheless… more revisiting is yet to come.  

“When you try to recreate a record for a show, it doesn’t really do justice for what you are as a performer. The fun of transitioning from the studio to the stage is rather in finding what can surprise the audience. A live show is its own experience, its own piece of art. And there are eight voices in the band, it presents so many possibilities of music and layering, especially in a live sense, and I think that live show experience is something that people don’t get now, very rare in these days. So it is important for us to build on that legacy.”

PAN M 360: Some people, because of the pandemic, freeze up, but you seem to have done the opposite.

Barrdo:  I must say, I was already in the beat of doing a lot of songs, the album out on August 21 was recorded in April 2019, L’éternel retour came out in February 2019 but I’d already started this one in January 2019. I was very inspired by my colleague David Bujold, with whom I play in Fuudge, who is inspired by the Ty Segall way of getting stock out quickly and regularly.

PAN M 360: Your forthcoming album (les) méandres de la soif seems to me your most ambitious – there are a lot of strings, the arrangements are rich, and I had the impression that you had put a lot of thought into this one. But now, you’re already working on something else, you never stop, you’re always composing…

Barrdo: That’s kind of the rhythm I’m trying to get into. But at the same time, the new album seems thoughtful and ambitious, but I think the stars have aligned well because it could have gone wrong. I’ve got the Beatles approach, as I say, when recording in the studio I’m not totally ready. I’ve got the songs, the structures, the chords, the melodies, but the lyrics are still to be fine-tuned. That’s the thing that takes a lot of time to get perfect, that I find satisfying. And when we went into the studio for this one, there were a lot of songs where the lyrics weren’t there, some of them didn’t even have a melody. Some of them were pretty much all there, just lacked a bit of work on the lyrics, but there were others where we recorded the rhythm section without knowing what the string arrangements would be, or the melody of the voice and the lyrics. We ended up doing the arrangements, and it all came together, and I think the result is really cool, but that’s it. Sometimes when I go into the studio, I put it like “in God’s hands”, in the sense that I bring the tunes and hope that the magic happens.

Recorded at the famous studio B-12 (Klo Pelgag, Hôtesses d’Hilaire), the album features the same musicians as L’éternel retour – Olivier Benoit on percussion and drums, Nicolas Ferron-Geoffroy on guitar, David Bujold on bass, keyboards, vocals, and more, and of course PA on guitars, vocals, and all the rest, plus a string section. They were lucky enough to be able to immerse themselves in the making of the album for a week, and the experience made PA want to get back into the same state of mind for the album that would follow, (les) méandres de la soif, which was recorded a few days after this interview was conducted, this time at the legendary Studio Wild with the equally legendary Pierre Rémillard at the board, and with the same musicians.

PAN M 360: How does it feel to work with David Bujold, who is also a band leader, when it’s time to work on Barrdo?

Barrdo: We’ve developed a good efficiency together and we don’t think too much about our roles. I also contribute to Fuudge, maybe not as much because David is very autonomous, but when we get to Barrdo, he really understands what I need, he comes up with ideas, he questions others, but I’m the one in charge. And he’s so versatile, plays bass, keyboard, does super-good backing vocals, and he’s also a producer. Having him on the team makes me feel really confident that I’m going to get the results I’m looking for.

PAN M 360: So far we’ve had the impression that Barrdo was mostly a studio project, was it intentional or did it just happen?

Barrdo: It’s true that the pace I set in the studio didn’t leave much time for the stage, and we don’t feel like we’ve been around too much. But with L’éternel retour, it still changed, we signed with Doze Management and the summer of 2019 wasn’t bad. We’ve had six or seven shows, cool shows, not huge but for Barrdo, it’s something. Summer 2020 would have been pretty good too, if there had been shows. But it’s true that there were more songs recorded, more albums almost, than there were shows.

PAN M 360: You’re still prolific. You get the impression that the songs never stop coming out and it’s never in the same niche, it’s very versatile. Do you give yourself a guideline?

Barrdo: No, there’s no guideline, but I feel like over time it’s kind of created itself. There’s a consistency. I compare it to eclectic artists, Zappa for example, you listen to some albums and there’s some weird stuff, but if you take a step back from the general work, you see that there’s stuff coming back, that there’s a coherence. On the three albums, some things come back, spirituality and existential questions are very present, it’s a form of coherence. Eclecticism is a kind of coherence in itself. It’s when we put together everything we do that we realise that there are things that will be classifiable, but since we don’t give ourselves directions, it’s the final result that does. It all depends on the compositions at the beginning. On this album, there are different styles, like pop, orchestral, folk, and I think we went a little bit more classical, some moments more classical music…

PAN M 360: …and a little bit of prog, which you can always feel there. It’s not Yes, but it’s there.

Barrdo: It’s not Yes, but it’s often there, especially in the song structures.

PAN M 360: Is it something you think about when you’re composing, when you think, I’m not going to do the same thing I’ve done before, or do you leave the creation free and at some point, you have enough songs to go in the studio and it gives you an album?

Barrdo: I don’t put stylistic barriers up, I see songs as children, seeds that you plant and watch them germinate. I’ve got a month’s free creative time where I record my ideas, and when I come back to it later, it’s like children who’ve developed their personalities, the songs define their style. It also depends on what I’m trying to do, whether I’m trying to emulate something or someone. On the last album, there’s a song where I tried to do something in the Herbie Hancock style during the Sextant period, I wanted to do something more fusion, more jazz, like Bitches Brew. It’s not pastiche, but it’s inspired by. Sometimes it’s Gainsbourg. It’s all influences of the moment that I’m using.

PAN M 360: You’ve signed up for bookings but you’re still independent for the albums, have you tried to get a label, or would you rather be independent?

Barrdo: I tried a few times to be on a label, but I always arrived too late in the process, everything was done and the labels answered me that they didn’t know what to do with it, that the time before releasing an album didn’t fit with what I had decided. I was ready to release, but it was too fast for them. It would have been especially handy for grants, because as an independent artist, it’s hard to get funding. And even what exists, we didn’t get it. I pay for everything out of my own pocket, in fact I pay for the choices I made for the project. It’s not ideal, but that’s also my responsibility.

(les) méandres de la soif, by Barrdo, available on August 21.

The audio version of this interview is available in PAN M 360’s Podcast section.

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