Strike Extremes

Sorry readers. Sorry month of May. with all the end of semester BS, the coming of spring and all that other good stuff like seeing family, I've been a neglectful blogfather. Forgive me. I return to the fold with both a warning for the Montreal and Quebec police forces and the Jean Charest government as well as the magnum opus of these grind gods I'm lucky enough to be seeing on Monday: EXTREME CONDITIONS DEMAND EXTREME RESPONSES. I'm sure the current police state mentality of our provincial government towards the striking majority of infuriated and insulted students and citizens of the greater Quebec area would gladly adopt this album's slogan to justify their unconstitutional and power abusing attempts at anti-democratic law-making, but they would miss the point. The 'extreme conditions' to which I refer are the militantly oppressive and socially repressive measures this current joke of an administration are actively taking and proposing in their fear of this convicted and powerful mobilization of a politically disenchanted society. The 'extreme responses' to come are from the natural escalation of radical activity on the part of a population who's government refuses to hear or negotiate with them. Police brutality and trigger happy policy making have immediately damaging physical and social, but easily reparable, repercussions for the state of the province. Widespread dissent among the provincial body - the people with the real power - means change. We're fed up with the bullshit, and Charest and law enforcement are only delaying the inevitable. The power of the masses will crush this heinous disregard for the culturally interested political reforms of Quebec.

Fuck the Police

Oh yeah so I had an amazing time seeing these guys live at Sala Rossa with Nasum, who of course were totally fucking insane as well. What struck me hard with Truth's set was that I couldn't possibly imagine a band sounding at their tightest 20 years after a seminal release like this one. Also they were hilarious. 

What's a boy to do?

In returning to my "great over-looked local records of 2011" theme I am realizing that, in trying to cast a far-reaching analytical gaze beyond my city's borders, I have, on two accounts now, overlooked the closest & earliest influence on my musical tastes: my older sister. While in my adolescence it was her years ahead that benefitted me greatly with an early knowledge of life-changers like the Ramones and the Cure, in recent times I've become exposed to amazing Montreal musicians she happens to know personally. Ensorcelor are one such case, as are tUnE-yArDs. The latter's 2011 release is truly a marvel. An extremely dynamic and ecletic pop record that weaves words and themes as intricately and effortlessly as it does complex rhythms and soaring melodies, W H O K I L L is a trip, to put it bluntly. It is a trip through a neighbourhood, through the minds of the people and the events that make it one like no other. It is a trip through a bleeding heart's arteries, showing us where personal indifference dead-ends and where emotion derails political meaning. I certainly have yet to and doubt I ever will hear a record that so perfectly captures the simultaneous socio-political claustrophobia and expressive freedoms that intersect haphazardly in this city. Merril steps on toes lovingly, shouts revolution unforgivingly and all to highly rhythmically complex and frenetic arrangements and lush melodies. Her current explosion onto the larger North-American "indie" scene comes as no surprise when I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that a little city like Montreal contained such a larger-than-life artistic persona this long. If you haven't heard this yet you probably already have a friend who loves it, get ready to join in the fun.

Doorstep

BEST 4 LAST BITCHES!

Evidently my 2011 ear was in crude enough shape to overlook one of Canada's most monolithic doom metal offerings of some time, right under my nose here in Montreal no less! Ensorcelor have been making waves in the city's small but mighty scene of true sonic sculptors of morbidly misanthropic magic. Their bearded, tree-wielding wizard-reared rituals caught my attention not more than a year ago at the unholy Death Church in St. Henri and they have remained ever-present in my mind as a colossal local live force worthy to dish it out along side numeroUS heavies (Thou, Yob, Krallice) to pass through this city's gates in recent times. It is the lumbering emotional juggernaut of their live performance, perhaps, that obscured my radar when hunting down great Canadian metal releases this past anno. I have seen the error of my ways. I could not see the dark woods for the light of the true path had blinded me. Having properly installed this blackened volume at my cylindrical altar my heart now rests as it should: in mother nature's darkness. What has struck me most immediately here is the band's ability to invoke such unholy hordes to my mind Thergothon, Skepticism, Mournful Congregation and the Woodsmoke crowd while remaining entirely unique and original, retaining only a few hints of such influences. On top of all this, the record very eloquently evades the all too common sludgisms of much modern funeral doom. The true strength of this unit is their ability to capture the earthiness of doom metal lore and the seasonal moodiness this music exudes. For those south of our snowy expanses, this is the most direct audio tap into the feeling of long trudges through white abyss; of waking up to days on end of dimmed sunlight consumed willingly by early nightfall. This album represents perfectly the musical equivalent of the black cloud that can envelope one's thoughts under a winter's moon...

and if at the bottom of everything there were only a wild ferment...

Raise Your Glass

Two Horsey

This is a little different from what I've posted in the past. For all you folk rock folks, this should be right up your alley. I should mention that I have a bias because I was on this record and play in Char's band, but it is truly a great album. I think, being around during the time she wrote and developed most of these tunes, that it wasn't until I heard them in this beautiful recording that I realized exactly how brilliant these tunes are. Char has a most amazing ability to articulate emotion simultaneously through voice and music, while doing some impressively complex stuff harmonically that comes off naturally poppy and catchy. Of all her catalog this one, to me, captures both the strength and vulnerability of her personality perfectly in the songs and their presentation. The album also features a who's who of great Toronto/Montreal musicians including Thom Gill, members of Donlands and Mortimer, the Gramercy Riffs and Bent By Elephants. It's also the first of hers to feature Char herself doing bass, drums and of course guitar, voice and songs. Special props to Ryan Granville for an amazing drums/production job! Watch out for this lady, she'll rock your world; she is the reason I like Joni Mitchell.

Way to go Charlotte!

sounds in a basement

Somewhere in the sonic smut cellar - built on top of an ancient native burial ground - of the decrepit Mtl art motel where Fucked Butter's music resides their is a shaman mystic mining dirges of its dank depths. Synth-slime slit open by faux Frithian ultra-chorus jagged wryffing. A demonically debased Sage, like Greg without the clarity Wipers gave. Analog as analogous to a filmy fuzz of future's fog; misty-eyed from mystifying mental mold... When I saw this performed at Pop opening for YT//ST the stage banter consisted of such great lines as "this next song goes out to a friend who isn't here, but if she were here, she'd be outside smoking" and "who knew southern Ontario is now southern California". Then it got vicious.
Basically, this shit is fucked. By far one of the best releases this year.

No Cars

... For the Fuckedness of the Butter

Sorry for that momentary lapse, lets get back into gear, shall we? Fucked Butter is a mysterious entity creating post-ironic electro-lounge disco fucnk grunge rap sporadically since 2010(?) in some twisted, sinful studio/loft space in Montreal's Griffontown area. The group's formal conceptual beginnings are about as vague as their artistic goals and official line-up, which at least includes Mtl hip-hop hooligan Nick Persons - geared for a 2012 solo release - renowned orator Lucas Julien and some other guy I went to highschool with. If Fucked Butter did have one primary intention evidenced by their 2011 output, it was hits. The guys have hits, not the kind that could be played on the radio (well, maybe one) but those kinds of hits that channel that celestially poetic power of music that touches us all, in places we're not sure we want to be touched, but we are. Then they have some weird songs you won't like. For a look into their creative processes of making hits, here is an in-studio making-of video for their one potential crack at charting

You can download their greatest 2011 hits here