Photo: Jean-François Cyr

Sé Montreal, sé Haiti, sé Creole, sé kompa, sé electro cumbia, sé tradition mixed with very contemporary music. Released on March 25, Fwonte’s recent eight-track album, Danser avec mes démons, can finally be heard in a concert hall. The artist was just waiting for an opportunity to infect people with his smartly crossbred music – Pop Montréal will be the launch pad for this record released at the beginning of the pandemic. Kerns Olibrice, alias Fwonte, is one of the festival’s guest artists, and he’s very happy to be part of it. 

“When I saw what was happening around the planet,” he says, “I decided not to have too many expectations for the new album. Things were going to happen eventually… I just had to be patient. I released my album, just as it was supposed to be. I was pretty sure it would find its way, pandemic or not. Anyway, I didn’t expect my album to produce a global explosion. In spite of the crisis, people interested in my work found and heard the new songs… In fact, they listened more to these songs than to those of my previous projects. The majority of people said that this is my best album (laughs). That’s good (laughs). I want to take another look at tradition, I want to take my Haitian culture further, somewhere else, I want to shed new light on the music of my native country.”

Photo: Jean-François Cyr

Danser avec mes démons, for the first time

Due to the crisis caused by the coronavirus, the album was never presented as a stage show.

“This will be the first time I share my new songs in front of a live audience. I’ve never played at the Rialto, but I know the place well. I’ve already been there to attend different concerts. For my show, the audience will be limited to about 30 people. I think they will be standing, as long as they respect the sanitary measures. What I do is danceable. I just hope people can move around a little bit! I think there’ll be enough space for them to have fun, despite the restrictions.  Normally, at my shows, people are moving from start to finish…”

In order to share the songs from the album Danser avec mes démons, Fwonte will be accompanied by two people on stage: “A DJ will take care of the sequences, while another will be in charge of percussion and drums. I’ll take care of the vocals and the atmosphere. I might have some fun on the drums here and there. In fact, I’ll adapt to this particular crowd. One thing is certain, this 30-minute concert will allow me, in amore limited context, to evaluate how people react to my new songs, in concert…”

Photo: Jean-François Cyr

Eventually, Fwonte would like to present a large-scale show that would be ideal for certain festivals.  

“To celebrate the tenth anniversary of my arrival in Montreal, I’ve been working on a mega-show concept including Afrobeat dancers and several musicians (including the addition of an electric guitarist and a keyboardist). I also asked for help from some producers. Because of COVID-19, however, I put this project on hold. It will come…”

Fwonte’s most recent musical work, at once dark and joyful, is made with respect for Haitian traditions, certainly, but it’s infused with a good dose of avant-gardism that will allow most spectators to find something they like during the performance scheduled for the Pop Montreal festival. At least we hope so. Better yet, we believe it.

At the Pop Clubhouse (Rialto), Friday, September 25, 6 p.m. 

Photo: Jocelyn Michel

French chanson, electro-pop, disco, funk, krautrock, space rock, French Touch, jazzy balladry. Is the poetic-techno journey of performer Marie Davidson over? Isn’t the electronic component of the album Renegade Breakdown tenuous for an artist associated with the sharper edges of digital creation? 

Nevertheless… listen carefully to the previous recordings of the musician, writer, composer, and performer. Several popular styles that can be spotted in the mix of her new opus were already present beforehand. This time, however, the pop lights flash much brighter.

Are they likely to dazzle, or blind?  

No matter what fans of the Montrealer and her two acolytes from L’Oeil Nu will think, the choice is perfectly clear – as evidenced by this conversation with Marie Davidson, Pierre Guerineau (Essaie Pas, Feu Saint-Antoine) and Asaël Robitaille, producers of Renegade Breakdown, officially launched on September 25 under the labels Ninja Tune (world) and Bonsound (Canada).

PAN M 360: We crossed paths a few months ago and found out about your admiration for Fleetwood Mac, which might surprise many. Where does this taste of pop come from?

Marie Davidson: I’ve been listening to Fleetwod Mac since I was 17, it’s really nothing new. I can tell you almost everything about Stevie Nicks! (laughs) As a music lover, I really know jazz. Our song “Just In My Head”, by the way, is a jazzy ballad that pays tribute to those influences. Also, I became aware of contemporary music because of D. Kimm (my mother) when she was performing poetry shows with avant-garde instrumentalists.

Pierre Guerineau: Well beyond electro, we listen to all kinds of music – rock, punk, French chanson, jazz, classical, etc. For several years we explored electronic sounds, rhythms, textures, but we always remained fans of good songwriting. 

Asaël Robitaille: For my part, I have a background in composition, Serge Provost’s class at the Conservatoire de Musique de Montréal, I know contemporary music from the classical tradition, then I branched out into prog, jazz fusion, ambient, film music, and more.

PAN M 360: When an artist associated with cutting-edge trends goes pop, how should they go about it? Is there a risk of losing out on all fronts, on the cutting edge and on the mainstream? 

PG: We’ve discussed this among ourselves and indeed, we concluded that we’d ignore this risk. Before this album, we’d worked on the rhythms, the textures, the sound design, we wanted to go back to song creation. So our refinement acquired in electro is at the service of solid songwriting. We know that this is our strongest work.

MD: Yes, it’s very different from previous albums, but we were willing to take the risk. In terms of audience reaction, it’s out of our control. By maintaining the same style to absolutely please the audience, the music can lose its soul. I’m known for not compromising, neither are Pierre and Asaël. We’ve done the work, we like this album. We know that Renegade Breakdown can seem slightly disparate, but we find a real cohesion. The link is my voice, my stories, my expression. 

PG: There’s a variety of genres in this album, we don’t have a problem with that. People listen to all kinds of music today. People are thirsty for it. Personally, I get bored after three or four songs when an album is monolithic. What stands out is honesty, sincerity, hard work, integrity.

AR: There’s not as much risk as that, it seems to me. The first two singles on the album are closer to club music, they are a bridge between what we know about Marie and what follows. It’s a culmination, I think, of the work done in previous years.

PAN M 360: What is the distinction between Marie Davidson, L’Oeil Nu and Essaie Pas ? 

MD: After New Path, we decided to put the Essaie Pas duo on indefinite pause. I had signed for two albums with Ninja Tune under my name, I couldn’t change the deal to the second one. But the people at the label knew that the second album would be recorded with a band, they were really excited about the idea. 

PG: So there’s Marie the frontwoman and there’s a band behind her, L’Oeil Nu. What’s different from the previous recordings is that Marie’s voice and writing are behind the songs.

AR: There is a distinction to be made between Marie and L’Oeil Nu. Already in 2011, Pierre and I started this project. We had then undertaken to create a song each night inspired by the European soundtrack of the ’70s – Vladimir Cosma, Ennio Morricone, Francis Lai, Serge Gainsbourg, etc.

PG: We’d recorded demos that remained dead letters, with a few exceptions. Then we started talking about a pop project with Marie. 

MD: That was in 2015. We finally started work on January 5, 2019, we worked on it for a year and a half.

PAN M 360: In Essaie Pas and Marie Davidson’s solo projects, we observe elements of French pop, electro-pop and other mainstream sources in which you dip your electro experiments. This time, the pop side is more present than ever. How did you organise all this?

MD: We didn’t look for a style or a type of instrumentation, we looked for energy and expression itself. If we felt something, it was okay. For example, “Worst Comes To Worst” is disco funk, “Renegade Breakdown” is disco rock, “Center of the World” is influenced by Robert Wyatt’s album Rock Bottom, among others. You can hear Pink Floyd as much as you can Mylène Farmer or the Skatt Bros. It’s the expression of our pop universe.

PG: That was the idea: we would make a pop/songwriting album, and it took all these forms. But it’s still who we are, it’s done in our own way. 

PAN M 360: What was your methodology? 

MD: Until now, my work has been based on creating rhythmic and melodic sequences. This time, I wanted to get out of the loop and bring back “real” instruments. I would come in with my melodies and lyrics, and they would play the rest. I hardly played any instruments but we were always together in the studio. 

PG: So Marie would record the skeleton of the songs with her dictaphone and come with us to the studio. Relatively limited means forced us to use virtual instruments, in part.

AR: Specifically, the harmonium, woodwinds and strings are virtual, while the keyboards, guitars, bass, and drums are real for the most part. 

PG: Asaël plays several guitars and keyboards, Guillaume Éthier (Chocolat, Bernardino Feminelli) plays drums, and with producer Dominic Vanchesteing we worked on some band sections… Studio Crow, Jackson Macintosh, bass and guitar, Asaël, guitar and keyboards, Yair Elazar Glotman, double bass. 

MD: Jesse Osborne-Lanthier joined us, he took part in the arrangements, mixing and post-production.

PG: When you’ve been working for several months on an album, it’s good to have the ear of someone you trust. It’s always a great help, and that was Jesse’s role.  So we created hybrids, with real instruments and with virtual instruments. At the end of the day, we really like this postmodern side.

PAN M 360: The lyrics to Renegade Breakdown‘s ten pop songs aren’t too rosy, are they?

MD: I had a lot to tell about my life over the last few years. These songs talk about my artistic career, my work, my relationships, including my relationship with Pierre, and also my relationship with myself. Among other things, I talk about my feeling of isolation. Very often I was alone on tour, alone in my hotel room, alone at the airport, alone in the club, alone with drunk or high people, alone in the line of toilets, alone at customs with my equipment, alone with myself. It’s also an intention to get to the point, to be more intelligible and more vulnerable. For example, the track “Lead Sister” pays tribute to Karen Carpenter (The Carpenters), who died of anorexia. It has something to do with my personal background; I used to be anorexic, I’ve been in remission for several years, but it’s always going to be sensitive. 

PG: For “Lead Sister”, we worked a bit like Gainsbourg, that is to say, by transposing a classical melody into the public domain. We took up the Adagio by the Italian baroque composer Allessandro Marcello. When Marie arrived with the text, it set the tone, we treated it with inspiration.

MD: It’s a nightmarish song. Anorexia can lead to death. It’s the descent into hell for the quest for perfection and performance, it’s so destructive! In addressing the obsession that killed Karen Carpenter, this song stems from the spirit of the album Working Class Woman.

PG: That’s why we’re taking “Lead Sister” and “My Love” from self-deprecation to self-love and remission. It moves me enormously.

AR: In fact, this sequence was better positioned at the end of the album, because it’s a death followed by a resurrection. 

PAN M 360: This album has three songs in French and one bilingual, among the ten. A deliberate choice? 

MD: Bilingualism is very important to me. French is my mother tongue, the one I know best. English is to be understood by anyone. From the beginning, we have been aiming for an international career, we have never been interested in being stars only in Quebec. We love to travel, we have friends all over the world. This doesn’t prevent us from honouring our cultural roots.  

PAN M 360: How will all this translate on stage?

MD: There will be four of us for the show, when the public-health conditions are favourable for going on tour, obviously. Pierre and Asaël on keyboards, guitars and electronics, and me on vocals. A drummer will join the band. And when our budget allows it, we’ll hire a bass player. 

AR: I’m the only one to have played several instruments in real time over the last few years, Pierre hadn’t played guitar for five years before getting back into it. It was laborious at the beginning, but with each rehearsal, he finds his bearings and skills again.  

PG: So it’s going to be a hybrid form. Instruments and computers. I have the impression that more and more people are fed up with music performed in front of an audience without instruments. 

AR: We want to do the concert hall circuit and not really the club circuit. Because that wouldn’t make sense with the instrumentation we have now. 

MD: We’re going to change the context of presentation, we’ve already switched tour management to do so. Until then? We’re concentrating on the music.  Turning point ? I hope so !

Boogieman and Samito have the honour of closing 2020’s hybrid edition of MUTEK, up just before the final performance, by Poirier. That’s a stage that’ll turn up the heat. Remaining seated will be a challenge for the spectators in the hall, taunted by the roaring bass of the duo’s flagship title, “Wasa Bibi”, and by the solar energy of the two companions, accompanied by VJ Danica Olders. 

Longtime friends Boogieman and Samito hadn’t planned to work together. Things happened naturally. The former brings energetic analog compositions, the latter, lyrics sung in Portuguese, the official language of his native Mozambique. A unique blend, explained in detail during a videoconference meeting (a first for all three of us).

PAN M 360: “Kussom” is the name you give to the musical genre you’ve created, can you tell me more about its meaning? 

Samito: Basically, it’s a mix of genres of music and the word som, which is “sound” in Portuguese. What happened was that when we started working on the second song with James [Benjamin, aka Boogieman], I realized that some of the beats he had created made me think about batida, which is a sound from Angola. It then became closer to kuduro, and so the first syllable was the ku and then I put som after it, which is a ku-som, so meaning the “sound of the ku”. 

Boogieman: Calling it a name gives us the possibility of having a grasp on what we’re doing, which is to create a new sound. Exploring something new in a world such as music where there’s so much thought given to the analytical aspect of music and where you fit, what it is, what genres are combined… I found it harder to classify, especially with us working together, so by classifying ourselves we can kind of preempt a little bit of that conversation.

PAN M 360: There are also Japanese cultural elements in your “Wasa Bibi” video, are there other important influences that feed into the project? 

Samito: The breeding ground of all sound is Montreal. When we worked on that video – actually we didn’t do it, it was a 17-year-old who’s now 18 – we wanted to open the platform for him to create and explore different directions, just as we were. His generation compared to mine is more into Japanese anime, and he wanted to go there. I think we live in a city where we can experiment with many things and there are many growing influences.

PAN M 360: You are not just creative collaborators but close friends, how do you work together?

Boogieman and Samito: Really, there’s no process. We spend a lot of time together. When we’re at the studio and we start playing something, if we find it interesting, we jump into it, and then suddenly it starts gaining life. It’s more a jam in the process. If we can talk about “Wasa Bibi”, it was really joking around, like singing Danica Olders’ artist name, “Wasa Bibi, Wasa Bibi”… and it made it all the way to the final thing, we weren’t really able to replace it. You can’t fake that kind of feeling or recreate it, it’s spontaneous and authentic.

Samito

PAN M 360: Samito, you’re a musician trained in music school. Boogieman, your learning comes from outside the institutions. How did you manage to combine your approaches? 

Samito: I think for me, it was very easy because if you look at things that I did before, I’ve always been more interested in exploring certain possibilities of sounds, or getting a different rhythm from somewhere else, and then put it in a context that is completely opposite, to see what comes out. I think the first time when Boogieman called me, he was like, “I have this modular synth, I want you to come see it.” I went to his place, I was like, “I think there’s so much that can happen if we open our minds and just dive into it .” And we did. 

PAN M 360: Your visual signature is as colourful as your music, it ’s the result of a collaboration with Danica Olders.

Boogieman: The whole visual aesthetic of Boogieman is pretty deeply ingrained in collaboration with Danica; her vision, her aesthetics often go against the grain. I think the sound of the project is so open that it actually allows place for someone who can take it even further. She’s really a multidisciplinary artist. 

Boogieman

PAN M 360: How’s this visual dimension going to be expressed during your performance?

Boogieman: We have the intention of taking people on a bit of a trip! Like the fact that you might see nothing at times… Not to give away too much, but it is just as impactful as all those things you see. I think that’s cool because it leaves room for the sound to be experienced, and then at times, the sound can be very minimal and the visuals can take over.

PAN M 360: You’re performing dance music, music for the body, how do you feel about playing in front of a very small, seated crowd?

Samito: I don’t know, what I’m telling myself is, whatever’s going to happen is a challenge in a new way of making music. I don’t know if jumping around and dancing for me will make sense, I don’t know how people are going to react. It’s almost like we have to re-learn how to play a show, and also learn how people will fit in. It can be exciting!

Danica Olders

Particularly prolific, with an album and several EPs released during the past year, Priori (Francis Latreille) expresses himself under different pseudonyms. Recently with RED, the most “spontaneous” according to his friends, he is also half of ANF, MSL, and Ntel. The Montreal producer also set up the musical project Jump Source – which doubles as a recording studio – with Patrick Holland. With Adam Feingold, aka Ex-Terrestrial, he heads the NAFF label, whose tenth release is scheduled for the end of the month.

In the manner of a space explorer, Latreille invites us to discover his solar system of techno, IDM, deep house, acid, dub techno, and even breaks (a non-exhaustive list). Impressed by his ability to take us in different directions without ever getting lost or compromising on the quality of his productions, PAN M 360 connected with Latreille just before his 30th birthday, and a few days before his second appearance at MUTEK.

PAN M 360: How do you compartmentalize, or tie together, your different musical personalities?

Francis Latreille: For me, it’s really just a way of being able to make music every day. I think that if I only had one project and I was always trying to have a unique style, I wouldn’t be able to do it, because my state of mind changes too much. I almost always have several projects going at the same time, it’s difficult to work on just one album, for example. We absorb what’s around us. It changes from day to day, so I listen to my emotions and see what happens.

PAN M 360: Among your latest projects, there are many remixes, the one you did for Gilb’R and Ariel Kalma, but also an EP of tracks from your album On a Nimbus, revisited by Roza Terenzi and Beta Librae among others. Remixing is a founding principle of electronic music, how do you approach the exercise?

FL: It’s like a nice way to trigger potential accidents that wouldn’t have happened otherwise, to fall in a direction you would never have gone, and I find it really interesting. Gilb’R wrote to me once he finished the album with Ariel Kalma and it was just great fun because they used a lot of instruments that I don’t usually work with. For the remixes of my album, you can recognize the sounds I chose, but it’s so far from the originals! The artists did what they wanted and they put their personality into it, so I think it’s beautiful.

PAN M 360: I’d like to come back to the notion of accident, is it something that’s part of your daily creative process?

FL: Electronic music, as I know it and as I imagine it, is the experience of being able to set up parameters that allow experimentation and that will take us to interesting places. It’s a lot of trial and error, except that with time, we make better trials, therefore better mistakes (laughs). It’s done with time, we learn by putting out records, we see the results. We set up better parameters, we settle better into our practice and we are more likely to catch the good moments, to recognize them when they arrive.

PAN M 360: You pay particular attention to science fiction, and your inspirations are numerous on that side. What is the place of images in your creative process? 

FL: It happens while I’m creating. I often have an image in front of me when I make music. I start with an image or something I’ve just read. It could be a video game, a film… I’ll immerse myself in a scene, an image that can be very blurred or very precise, and in a way it dictates the mood. The idea can then be extended by the vision of a graphic designer– with NAFF, we collaborate a lot with Jesse Osborne-Lanthier.

PAN M 360: Have you ever made music with images? 

FL: No, maybe eventually. Soundtracks are always something I’ve loved, I often watch a film just for that!

PAN M 360: What was the last soundtrack that made an impression on you?

FL: A friend of mine recommended a short animated film recently called Noise Man Sound Insect (1997), by Koji Morimoto. In the soundtrack, there’s some jungle from the ’90s, I think there’s some Photek, some Aphex Twin, several mythical artists from that era. And I think the parallel between the music and the visuals is absolutely incredible. It’s really an experience to watch.

PAN M 360: Your performance at MUTEK is going to be a bit special, how do you feel about playing in front of a seated audience?

FL: I didn’t know until recently how it was going to be, the details anyway. I started to prepare a set with no idea how many people would be there, how they would be seated. Of course, at this point, I can’t really change what I do to accommodate that, but I hope the music will speak for itself, it can be enjoyed without necessarily having to dance. 

SEE THE SHOW

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)

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