Five Years and Three Cities: VICTIME Unveils New Album En Conversation Avec (Mothland)

 

VICTIME by Rose Cormier, from left to right: Samuel Gougoux, Laurence Gauthier-Brown and Simone Provencher

Crumple it up. Unfold it. Walk away. Come back together and start again (and again). This was noise rock trio VICTIME’s unexpected five year-plan to create their second long-player En conversation avec, unveiled today via Montreal label Mothland.  

En conversation avec album artwork by Cléo Sjölander

Deconstructing a guitar-bass-drums mold, while still embracing their unbridled exploratory approach, VICTIME have returned with a genreless sophomore manifesto that they credit as their best work to date. Hurtling at 100kph, En conversation avec is a corrosive, meter-busting rendez-vous of DIY breadboard overdubs, pixelated synth-scapes and a complete disregard for conventional musical permissibility. 

Devised across three cities (Gatineau, Montreal and Quebec City) between bandmates Laurence Gauthier-Brown (Ponctuation, Pure Carrière), Simone Provencher (Album) and Samuel Gougoux (Corridor, Kee Avil) through virtual demo-ing with high-stakes jams in-between pandemic lockdowns, En conversation avec is the result of the VICTIME’s unanimous urge to overhaul their sound. 

While the band is adverse to talking about the COVID-19 pandemic (with good reason), they agree that making a record long-distance was a cornerstone to the evolution of their creative process.  

“Without some delineation of guitar-drum-bass, it truly isn’t a VICTIME record,” says guitarist  Provencher. “The three of us worked on every part, which defined the album more than anything. The studio-based approach allowed us to rediscover the joy [in playing] through recording riffs, vocals, rhythms and loops directly on our computers and then sharing them with each other for processing or overdubbing,” she adds. 

For vocalist-bassist Gauthier-Brown, the digital back and forth allowed her to tackle difficult and uncharted subject matter through her lyrics differently than before. 

“Over the many years with the band, living through both the #MeToo movement and the pandemic, I’ve learned how to use my voice and take my place. The album’s first single [M.A.] allowed me to grieve and process a difficult experience. At first I couldn’t sing it without crying. But at the same time, after 7 years in a relationship, I also wrote my first ever love song with this record. It felt like the first time I could really do it,” she explains. 

The band attributes lessons learned from exploring expressive mediums outside of music to the spirit of En conversation avec

“We weren't necessarily tired, but we were excited about new things that we were learning while working on separate projects,” shares Gauthier-Brown. “We were all playing music with other people, scoring films, theatre and dance pieces as well, and that brought out different elements of our [musical abilities] that we were interested in incorporating into Vicitme,” she adds. “I had worked on a theatre show for two years that never happened because of the pandemic. Having to really sing on my own [while practicing] and not just do rhythm stuff helped me go deeper into myself and find my voice.” 

“I remember a moment, way before we even started the record, where Laurence walked into the jam space and said she didn’t want to be in a rock band anymore,” recalls Provencher. “I cried,” adds Gauthier-Brown, as the band laughs in harmony. 

“We each wanted to do something different with our own instrument and influence each other’s output,” explains Gougoux. “While using loops isn’t exactly inventing anything new, it brought a different element to thinking about the songs’ rhythmic elements and changed my [creative] vision over time,” he adds. 

Since forming in the late 2010s, VICTIME’s trust in each other as friends and collaborators is a testament to the band’s progression in tandem with the members’ individual growth.

“We’ve been able to find a balance in having fun together and being serious,” says Gougoux. “We started this band when we were still teenagers in our heads, but now we all have full-time jobs and are thinking about, you know, having a house and a family,” says Gauthier-Brown, the band all laughing together.

That being said, VICTIME are just as weird, and just as millennial, as they’ve always been. Along with Kim Gordon, eye surgeries and the sadness of roadkill, En conversation avec cites Twilight's Breaking Dawn and the documentary Sisters With Transistors among a myriad of intriguingly cryptic references.

While VICTIME is currently challenged by the ambitious translation of their “studio-heavy” songs to live context, they are collectively eager to see what the future holds for En conversation avec

“We’ve spent time in different scenes. For me, more the art scene than the music scene. And we’ve changed labels. I have no idea what kind of reception we’re going to get, because we’re starting over again, in a way… But we’re going to keep the momentum going and hopefully not take five more years to write another record,” giggles Provencher. 

“Even though I’ve been touring a lot with other projects, I know that the music communities we’ve been in will be receptive and supportive. I think we’re in a place now where we’re just excited to get invited to venues and festivals again,” says Gougoux. 

Don’t miss VICTIME’s upcoming shows in Montreal and Ottawa!

Double Album Launch Party

with Yoo Doo Right with We Owe ft. Brian Chase (Yeah Yeah Yeahs) 

December 6th, 2024 at Théâtre Plaza (Montreal) 

Tickets 

Debaser’s Pique Festival 

December 14th, 2024 at Arts Court (Ottawa) 

Tickets 


EN CONVERSATION AVEC

Out October 25th, 2024 via Mothland

1. Pleine conscience
2. Un beau spectacle
3. M.A.
4. Ces ruines
5. Collage
6. Résonne encore
7. Faire la matière
8. Régicide
9. Figurine
10. En conversation avec



 

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Population II Get to the Heart of their Sound with Latest Album “Électrons libres du québec” (Bonsound)

 

Population II photographed by Starly Lou Riggs

Playful and alluring, Population II’s Électrons libres du québec is an enigma wrapped in a fever dream. These new sounds by the Montréal-based band hang above Earth’s atmosphere like a twisted multicolour satellite. Sure, it’d be easy to call them “psych-rock”, but that would be an oversimplification. Instead, this powerful trio successfully brews a multi-era potion, seamlessly collecting jazz fills, funky basslines, and emphatic synth in their intergalactic cauldron. 

I had the honor of chatting with the band in their practice space—a treasure trove comprised of Tristan Lacombe’s synth and guitar pedal collection and Pierre-Luc Gratton’s drum set—complete with a rubber chicken in the kick drum (a gift from their tour, they tell me). The wall across from Sébastien Provençal’s bass gear is adorned with a cute Sesame Street-themed bedsheet. Ah, and don’t forget their iconic collection of troll dolls (my favourite is the one with earmuffs and a blue star belly button), as featured in the band’s L’Esco video interview, “L’Autel 4461”. Needless to say, it’s abundantly clear that this ragtag group have been friends for a long time. 

In fact, they’ve all known each other since high school. Tristan, Pierre-Luc, and Sébastien all grew up in the North Shore, just north of Montréal. “[Tristan’s] father is the reason we’re playing together,” Sébastien laughs. “He’s like the guru of the band, if I can say, definitely a guru.”

Incidentally, some of the band’s early independent tracks caught the eye of John Dwyer—of the prolific rock band Osees—and Population II signed on with the rocker’s label. The group’s premiere album, Á la Ô Terre, came out hot on Castle Face Records in 2020. After returning from tour with the aforementioned legends, Population II are back in Québec with Électrons libres du québec, released via Montreal-based label Bonsound.

“We were at Ursa for [someone’s] show and I was going home very late to go to sleep,” Pierre-Luc recounts how they landed on their current label. “And then I received a call [from] someone and she’s like, ‘Hey, come to the park, there’s that person who works for Bonsound.’ So I go to the park and I talk with Valérie [Bourdages]… We talked for, like, two or three hours.” Pierre smiles and adds, “And the next week, we were on Bonsound.” 

Population II photographed by Starly Lou Riggs

Pierre-Luc, Tristan, and Sébastien have a sweet and honest chemistry that comes through in their music. It’s truly as if they can read each other’s minds. That could explain how their music is so bold and intricate, yet seems to come naturally. “We’re really fortunate to have crossed paths and to have this sensibility for the same music and art. We’ve been playing since we were fourteen/fifteen, so sometimes we don’t even talk,” Sébastien speaks to their innate intuition together. 

While the three have known each other a long time, Pierre-Luc is the newest addition to the band. Tristan explains, “We had a different line-up of that band and it was instrumental music. It was basically just jams and we were making long songs with a different drummer. And then we wanted to play with Pepe [Pierre-Luc]. In the first months that we were playing together, he was playing and one time had a mic and started singing. And [it] completely changed the band.” 

“Not singing like a karaoke singer,” Sébastien adds with a big grin, “It’s more like face-melting. Like, ‘How in the world did that little guy do that?’”

“Our first band broke up and we had a show booked,” Tristan recounts. “It was at L’Esco, and when we were kids it was really big, so we couldn’t cancel. So we were just like, ‘Okay, we have to do this show,’… We had to play that show and then we added Pepe and he just added his personal background.”

Pierre-Luc’s lyrics are simple. His vocals act as an instrument all their own—impressive, as he is the drummer and lead singer. These belting vocals, akin to ‘60s garage-style, compliment the wall of sound in instrumental: Tristan’s alternating synth and guitar, and Sébastien’s booming bass. Pierre-Luc shares that his words are meant to “break the fourth wall”.

Électrons libres du québec is truly a powerhouse of an album. From the space-like sonics of “Orlando”, to ripping funky bass licks in “Beau baptême”, to the discorded cacophony of “Pourquoi qu’on dort pas”, the whole thing screams epic. 

Listening with a fine-tooth comb, their influences seem fairly visible to the naked eye: ‘60s and ‘70s psych rock, definitely some classic jazz, and the likes of Funkadelic. Admittedly, Population II are very open-minded when it comes to music. We chatted about Sébastien’s dad being a ‘70s disco DJ (very cool), Pierre-Luc’s use of 6/4 jazz timing, and Tristan's affinity for exploring all genres.

“Oh yeah, there’s a lot of jazz. You wanna talk about that jazz, all that jazz? We’re all about the jazz,” Sébastien says emphatically of the band’s rhythm. All that, before leaving me with a list of recommended bands to add to my roster: ‘60s German band CAN, Canterbury scene legend Robert Wyatt, and Canadian ‘70s rock bands Simply Saucer and Aut’Chose

“There’s something good in a lot of different genres,” Pierre-Luc says as the band reflects on their own “genre”. 

“I literally listen to everything and I don’t want to stop myself,” Tristan tells me. “When I was younger, I was trying to be this cool kid: ‘Pop music is not for me. Oh, I don’t like country.’ And one day, I had a narrative shift. I want to be able to love everything.”

Tristan Lacombe of Population II, photographed by Starly Lou Riggs

“Mainly on Électron, we were really listening to those Canterbury prog bands like Soft Machine,” Tristan explains. “Mixing that with like… Krautrock bands that we love, and just a more naïve and primal energy of early proto-punk. Basically, it was a dumb and really naïve way of playing those styles of music.” While Tristan says naïve, what I hear is “experimental”. Population II has this in abundance—a childlike wonder for music and a desire to just play. 

As it turns out, the band writes most of their songs in an improvisational way, jamming out ideas. They record their sessions and revisit from there. “We’re always, always recording,” Sébastien says. “Ideas are always flowing and it’s just because there’s this chemistry, this weird chemistry about the three of us being in a room.” Sometimes he’ll come in with some bass lines as a “foundation”, but the band seems to thrive on improvisational form.

All the music videos for Électrons libres du québec came to fruition in a similarly experimental fashion. Released both individually and as one full-album piece, Bonsound’s own Hugo Jeanson is the genius behind the strange colourful masterpiece. Tristan explains, “He wanted to have something that would work with the cover, just textures and stuff… We just had total confidence with him and we were just like, ‘Do your thing, have fun!’ And it looked good.”

“What was really cool,” Sébastien adds, “is that when we invited him [to] the rehearsal spot, he saw the whole vibe… He asked us to play every song on the records and he filmed us.”

Tristan was a fan of Hugo Jeanson’s visual art before they got the chance to work with him. “It was strange,” he mentions, “because since I was a teenager, I knew about his posters and stuff.” Hugo’s a bit of a music poster icon in Montréal, now operating as the Head of Label Marketing with Bonsound. “Yeah, we were just like, ‘Okay, this guy is the one who is making those crazy posters, he has good taste in music, he works there [Bonsound], we wanna work with this person.”

The band has had some luck, stumbling upon talented artists to join them on their journey. Pair this luck with musical skill, a charming demeanour, and a curiously open mind, it’s really no wonder the trio has come to put out such a killer record. “There’s a lot of layers to the band,” Sébastien tells me as we wrap up our conversation. “You just gotta witness us and hang out with us.”

The group laughs as Pierre-Luc sums it up this way: “In the end, we’re just normal guys shredding.”


Électrons libres du qu​é​bec

released October 6, 2023 via Bonsound

1. Orlando

2. C't'au boute

3. C.T.Q.S.

4. Beau baptême

5. Tô Kébec

6. Lune Rouge

7. Réservoir

8. Rapaillé

9. Pourquoi qu'on dort pas


Pierre-Luc Gratton – percussion, vocals

Tristan Lacombe – guitar, organ, oscillator, piano, synthesizers

Sébastien Provençal – bass guitar, synthesizers

Emmanuel Éthier – violin on “Reservoir”

Colin Fisher – saxophone on “Pourquoi qu'on dort pas,” “Réservoir”

Emmanuel Éthier – production and mixing

Trevor Turple – sound engineer


Population II

Instagram | Bandcamp | Spotify

Starly Lou Riggs is a queer agender visual artist from the United States, currently based in Montreal.


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La Sécurité Ignites the Boulevard with Debut Album "Stay Safe!" (Mothland)

 

La Sécurité by Aabid Youssef

With their highly-anticipated debut album waiting in the wings, La Sécurité is ready to cause some commotion. The Montreal art-punk group shares Stay Safe! tomorrow via Mothland – a record consisting of ten electrifying tunes united in their skittish asymmetry.

The musicians that form La Sécurité are no strangers to the scene, having charmed countless audiences through other projects like Choses Sauvages and Silver Dapple, but operating within this collective keeps each member on their toes. From the arresting synths of debut track “Suspens” to the domineering bassline of “Serpent”, the band has set a standard of heightened sonic volatility, and the remainder of the record continues that thrill. Stay Safe! provokes the senses with its bilingual musings and jagged new-wave arrangements, traversing between subjects like flirtation and bodily autonomy with the same crafty cool. Expect to strut to zigzagging guitars, commanding rhythms, and a sprinkle of woodblocks.

A few weeks before the release of Stay Safe!, vocalist Éliane Viens-Synnott connected with Also Cool to reflect on the final touches and tease the summer adventures ahead.

La Sécurité by Aabid Youssef

Rebecca Judd for Also Cool Mag: This new single “Serpent” is peppy with a punch. I love the effortlessness of its undercut, how it captures the messiness of catty gossip with such breezy disco flair. This is a broader balance you strike within your forthcoming album as well: this determination to be both lyrically and instrumentally bold, scratching many different surfaces and thriving in the madness. How did the development of “Serpents” fit into Stay Safe!’s creative process?

Éliane Viens-Synnott of La Sécurité: It came about in a pretty organic way. [Drummer] Kenny [Smith] started doing that funky beat, just joking around during a practice, and [bassist and producer] Félix [Bélisle] kinda whipped out that super groovy bassline! We noodled around with the rest, keeping in mind the more dancey side of our art-punk influences (Maximum Joy and ESG, to name a few) without wanting to rip anyone off, of course. I thought it was fitting for some lyrics I had already written. I didn't want the song to be emo or dramatic or anything – just a friendly little jab!

Also Cool: The video for “Serpent” is frenzied and lighthearted, capturing everything from Sonic to South by Southwest. Your videos notoriously stay true to your sound, feeling lo-fi yet descriptive. Does the band have a particular approach to concocting music videos, or was this one just as simple as a glitch?

La Sécurité: Pretty simple, yeah! Since we kinda established that DIY/VHS approach with our first videos, we thought it was a nice direction to continue in. It's a way to keep a natural, sort-of intimate-feeling approach, highlighting good times that we have spent together as friends and bandmates.

AC: As the video shows, La Sécurité recently played SXSW, which feels like a significant milestone given your first show at DISTORSION was six months ago. Can you share more about your experience in Texas and what you took from it?

LS: Yeah, what a ride that was. Even having our first show at DISTORSION was kind of unreal! We were pretty curious to see if there would be any buzz at all outside of the comfort of our MTL scene, and I guess the short answer to that question is yes! We met many awesome people and our shows felt pretty electric. Playing six shows in a week definitely helped us weld our dynamic on- and off-stage together.

AC: Stay Safe! comes out on June 16, and you’ve teased that your debut will be “quite pleasing, even to unsuspecting eardrums”. Without giving too much away, what kinds of experimentation made the final cut?

LS: Well, there is one unexpected surprise I'm excited to share. I guess the one hint I'm willing to share is: 90s prom night vibes, haha. Once you hear it, you'll get it. Besides that, expect more songs along the same lines as what you've been hearing so far. They each have their unique touch, but somehow all belong together.

AC: Festival season is afoot… surely there are some plans up your sleeve. What does this summer look like for La Sécurité?

LS: Looking good! In June, we are hitting up FLOURISH Festival in New Brunswick, followed by a show in Québec City with our friends Jesuslesfilles (which [guitarist] Melissa [Di Menna] also plays in)! Then we head to Calgary for Sled Island, and in July we are doing La Noce in Saguenay as well as Le Festif in Baie-Saint-Paul. There are a few more dates that aren't announced yet, so it's a secret for now. Last but not least, we will be doing a record release show in Montreal at l'Esco! The date will be announced the day our record comes out.


Stay Safe!

Out June 16, 2023 via Mothland

1. Le Kick

2. Dis-Moi

3. Anyway

4. Waiting For Kenny

5. Suspens

6. K9

7. Serpent

8. Try Again

9. Hot Topic

10. Sleepy Rebellion


All songs written & performed by La Sécurité


Produced, recorded, and mixed by Samuel Gemme & Félix Bélisle

Mastered by Francis Ledoux

Artwork & layout by Melissa Di Menna


La Sécurité

Bandcamp | Instagram | Spotify

Rebecca Judd is the features editor of Also Cool Mag.


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Mue On Ritual, Intimate Spaces, and Decomposition in LP "Les vasières" (Halocline Trance)

 

Mue by Vincent Castonguay

Explore the esoteric and terrestrial that is embodied in Mue’s first full-length new album, Les vasières. Even though the electronic duo—made up of Léon Lo and Catherine Debard—is based in Montreal, the sonic perimeters of Les vasières are vast, spanning across complex layers of sound and space. 

Elaborating on the landscape of their latest release, the band explains: “The French album title translates to “The mudflats.” Sounds from disparate sources form aural silt that is brought to life by waxing and waning cycles, each improvisation presenting a new, different mudflat scenario.”

By incorporating the sound of water, nature, and compost, Mue presents more than an album but an auditory experience through their experimental rhythms and alternative percussions. In this conversation with Mue, Liza Makarova mediates the intimacy of Mue’s spontaneous-yet-methodical approach to their world-building and soundscaping process. 

Les vasi​è​res by Mue. Cover artwork by Katherine Melançon, graphic design by Haley Parker

Liza Makarova of Also Cool Mag: What is the history behind Mue? When did it start and why?

Catherine Debard of Mue: Mue is definitely a pandemic project. It [all began]in March 2020 – I was supposed to go on a European tour and had sublet my place. A few days before leaving, I started having doubts and ended up cancelling everything (which was a really good decision, since the international lockdown happened the week after). I stayed at Léon's place and we quarantined together.

Léon Lo of Mue: I had some gear stocked at home from a previous performance, so one day, out of boredom or curiosity, we decided to jam together for the first time. I set up my computer to record it just in case and it turned out to be unlike anything either of us had done individually before.

Liza: Throughout the three- (or more) year process, what were the feelings, sources of inspiration, rituals, and expectations that motivated you to develop Les vasières?

Catherine:  Looking back on the recording process, the ritualistic aspect was undeniable. I think the pacing was important in this respect. We recorded a song or two at a time, a few weeks apart, for a few months. Each time, we would clear the space and since our project is hardware-heavy, it would take us about an hour to set everything up. It was meticulous and messy as if we were building a world out of a bunch of cables and machines, all intertwined and tangled together. Then, without talking much or planning anything, we improvised until we connected with each other and when the sounds locked, we would record until we felt satisfied. It would always start playfully and chaotically, but then, intuitively, we'd find each other and vibe on the same frequency.

Léon: I would say “frequencies”, as there were so many elements acting of their own accord. It was entrancing but also eerie in how egoless the process was.

Catherine: Somehow, we always intuitively stopped recording at the 12-minute mark, possibly our own sacred time unit. That was the first phase of the project, and we didn't have an album or concept yet.

Léon: After letting those recordings sit for a bit, we revisited them, chose the ones we liked best and set about cutting them down to more digestible formats. That proved to be really difficult because of the overlapping cycles of different lengths. Finding the right spots to cut out without it showing too much was challenging. But at that point, there was a feeling that the compositions could become something more concrete –that together, they could turn into something else. Kris from La Rama was an early supporter and singled out two songs (“1,000 Passages” and “A Tangle of Filaments”) to release as a limited edition 10” vinyl on the store’s in-house label La Rama Dubs. Toronto-based label Halocline Trance gracefully signed on to release the remaining tracks, which were coalescing into something like an album.

Catherine:  It's around that time that we started thinking about mudflats, right? That's what “vasière” means. We added the interludes to expand a bit more on the idea. Before that, I remember we were into more of a “compost”, “slimy” imagery. I was trying to grow plants out of vegetable scraps, and I recall we were both pretty invested in the process.

Léon: Yes, listening to the tracks, we started seeing how our disparate sounds would come together like all the different overlapping cycles present in mudflats: those of the waves, the countless micro-organisms, the vegetation, the birds overhead, etc. So, each jam was re-imagined as us having set up a new mudflat and wanting to see how all the different elements would co-exist.

LM: The album is both transcendent and down to Earth. While utilizing high-frequency vibrations to create an ethereal aura, the title—Les vasières—and the organic rhythms create a grounding sensation. By balancing the abstract and the earthly, where would you “place” the sonic atmosphere?

LL: I think "transcendent" and "down to Earth" are two poles that we reach for. However atmospheric our music may be, we really want it to be a physical experience.

CD:  I think a telling example is the kind of field recordings we used in the songs. I had recorded myself playing with rubber bands, pine needles, water... I think these sounds bring everything together in a more physical way, as you were saying.

LL: When you listen to the music and hear these sounds from different sources, you're getting all of their original sonic contexts as well. So, the sounds are actual physical spaces merging and vibrating in your space, and not just ethereal evocations of ideas of space.

CD: Thinking about your question, it made us realize that we both embody a different end of that spectrum. I am very much in my body and my senses, but my contribution to the music is more amorphous, and ungrounded.

LL: Whereas I'm very much in my head most of the time, I contributed the more grounding rhythmic base.

CD: Weird!


LM: Les vasières was recorded on your living room floor. What do “home vibrations” mean to you? What kind of energy is generated while recording in a home studio and how does producing in intimate spaces affect your creative process?

LL: Recording in a small living room with all of our gear felt like a cozy spaceship.

CD: Like the cover of that Silver Apples record, but super chill, and with herbal tea and fruits.

LL: Because we didn't have any plans at the outset, the recordings were intimate moments of exploration. There were no clocks ticking overhead, no pressure to deliver anything specific.

CD: I think it's because the whole thing was so low-key and fun that I made much bolder moves than I would usually. I had the time to dive further into my instruments' menus and settings, which led to more sophisticated, weirder textures. I didn't care about perfection at all, and you can hear that. Also, not using a computer led me to rethink my way of creating loops or to improvise using more than one instrument at a time. It was all quite clumsy but special.

LL: Also, I think it's important to let people know exactly where we worked so that the music doesn't just float around untethered. The context is important because it defined what we could and couldn't do at that specific time. For example, I was a middle-aged, middle-class, cis-het settler of colour lucky to still have a job and some music gear at home.

CD: I was a white settler part-timer in the service industry—temporarily out of work and living out of a suitcase—but still, I was able to get some of my equipment from my place.

LL: We didn't have access to a professional recording studio, and neither were we constrained to just doing everything in Fruity Loops. All this binds the listener back to us at that specific time and avoids creating a purely isolated aesthetic experience.

CD: What I like about working with Léon is that context also becomes a performative, playful and intrinsic aspect of creation. For example, when we started working on our radio show (Heavy Metal Parking Lot, N10as), he had this whole idea of using dice to determine the “energy curve” of each episode. That led us to make adventurous, playful choices that we wouldn't have necessarily made. We could say our live project at Mutek with Katherine Melançon was another example of a both constricting and super-stimulating context.

LM: Many visual and video art pieces, such as the album cover (created by Katherine Melançon and designed by Haley Parker, in addition to Melançon’s music video), were produced in tandem with Les vasières. How do you think the listening experience of “Télophases” changes when paired with the visual component?

LL: The visual aspect of the music video really transforms the listening experience, especially with someone as talented as Katherine. She had run the idea by us of scanning our shared compost and using the resulting images to produce the video for “Télophase”. That sounded awesome, but she mostly kept it a secret until it was done, giving us periodic progress reports along the way. We were totally confident that it would be fantastic, but we were completely unprepared by exactly how fantastic it would be.

CD: When we watched it for the first time, we kept exclaiming throughout the whole thing. We had to watch it a few times in a row to wrap our heads around it.

LL: The images in the video end up taking the lead, in my opinion. They're so strong and the narrative arc is so well-constructed that it could seem like we composed the music to go along with it. That's definitely not a bad thing, and I think it's okay if the music is not experienced the same way as if it was listened to on its own.

CD:  As for the album artwork, it offers a very earthy, physical, material palette (food, leftovers, intimate bodily relationships), but made surreal andeerie. The meticulous beauty and the strangeness perfectly set the tone for the record.

LM: To follow-up: in using compost as material for “Télophase”, the binary between decomposition and composition is blurred. Do the song titles and order convey a narrative regarding these themes?

LL: In keeping with the theme of mudflats, we didn't set out to mark any clear beginning or end for the album. We preferred the impression of catching the middle of something, that things were already constantly starting and ending.

CD: Or like if each piece is a glimpse of an ecosystem at a specific time, a fleeting impression of a landscape. As for the song titles, they emerged from an intense research session on various subjects that we felt resonated with the music.

LL: Things, beings, spaces, and the relationships between them.

CD: We followed various rhizomatic associations and jammed intellectually. We looked over the results and named the songs.

LL: Song titles for instrumental music end up acting as super-condensed lyrics, so we tried to choose the most potent words we came across. And about binaries, though they can be useful sometimes, we make it a point to avoid them. A blur is much more interesting to us. Ambiguity rules!


Les vasi​è​res

Out November 25, 2022 via Halocline Trance Records

1. Hylozoïste

2. Ambeing

3. Balanes

4. Télophases

5. Quatre Temps

6. 433 Eros

7. Andand

8. Sumac

9. Naica

All pieces composed, produced and recorded by Catherine Debard and Léon Lo

Mastered by East End Mastering

Cover artwork by Katherine Melançon

Graphic design by Haley Parker


Mue

Instagram | Bandcamp | Spotify

Liza is a multi/interdisciplinary artist and writer who, at all times, feels an inner pull toward the stars, towards the future. They gratefully reside in Tiohtià:ke, which is the unsurrendered territory of the Kanien'kehá ka.


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Sometimes Alienating, But Always Fascinating: Suuns' Joe Yarmush Reflects on New Album "The Witness" (Secret City Records)

 

Suuns, shot by Will-Lew May

Montreal’s Suuns opened their first show in nearly two years at l’Impérial Bell in Quebec City, a setting which guitarist Joe Yarmush describes as “an old-timey nightclub, where a crooner would play.” Yarmush highlighted the experience as something the avant-garde trio isn’t used to, but went on to liken it to riding a bike: “It’s weird at first, but it’s also very familiar on a lot of levels,” he says. “And it’s more familiar than I would have thought.”

The band’s ongoing tour supports their newest offering The Witness, which was released on September 3rd, 2021. The LP’s 38-minute runtime opens and closes with the sounds of swarming cicadas, and contains elements of dark techno, contemplative multi-interpretive lyricism and colourful synthesizers all-throughout. The result is something that is sometimes alienating, but always fascinating.

During our phone call, Yarmush clarified the meaning of their album’s title, explaining that their music focuses much more on the act of witnessing in and of itself, rather than witnessing any specific thing or event.

“Now, in our civilization and society, we witness stuff that even 50 years ago we wouldn’t have seen,” Yarmush says. “When anything happens in the world, we see it immediately. Everything’s filmed, everything is being shown… How do we choose to react to things in these circumstances? Do we lose our capability to react to things that would have been appalling to us a mere few decades ago?” Yarmush and fellow Suuns members are echoing a sentiment that is all too prevalent in the 21st century: That we are becoming desensitized to the world and losing interest in major global events as soon as the next shocking headline pops-up on our newsfeed.

Exploring themes of desensitization is not new for Suuns, who have been channeling existential philosophy through free-form rock compositions since their formation in 2007. Still, Yarmush believes that “there’s something pointedly different about The Witness,” saying that all three band members could sense this difference from the moment it was being recorded to the time of its September release. 

Yarmush and company are not the only ones picking up on this shift. Pitchfork describes The Witness as the band’s “most cohesive album yet,” and Cult MTL praises the album’s “fresh, offbeat sound and poetic insight.” This might be attributed to the band feeding into a desire to explore; which becomes more restless with each new year.

When asked to what extent the genre of science fiction informs their work, Yarmush explains: “While it might not necessarily be dystopian, the concept of the future is definitely a recurring theme in a lot of our music.” In a purely musical sense, Yarmush describes his band as constantly trying to propel themselves towards the future, doing something new and unimaginable each time they enter the studio for a recording session. “We never do throwbacks or purposely try to recreate a genre in a new way, even though we might put older, more traditional elements into our music from time to time.”

“In many ways [Suuns] has stayed the same, but we’ve also evolved drastically,” says Yarmush, reflecting on how the band has developed over time. “We were four members for twelve years, with very distinct musical voices. We really felt the change after Max Henry, our former bassist, left… and the band has certainly been heading in a new direction.” Yarmush fondly recalls forming the band with vocalist Ben Shemie in his mid-20s, saying: “It’s crazy to believe that I’m now in my 40s… I feel like Suuns is only starting out now in a lot of ways, even though that’s not the case, and we are very different from when we first started out.” He elaborates by saying that when he listens to their 2016 album Hold/Still, he feels as though he is observing a previous version of the band from a distance. “There are distinct contrasts between the band that made that album, and the band that just released The Witness,” he says.

For Yarmush, the process of creating, recording and subsequently performing music can be best described as a spiritual experience. When asked about whether he feels more validation during the creation or the performance of his music, he replies: “The two feed off of each other,” and are thus inseparable. “Both can speak volumes regarding an individual or a group’s musical legacy,” he adds. “Records will live on longer than performances, but there’s something really cool about playing a show. Because as soon as it ends, it just disappears.”

Suuns, shot by Will-Lew May

Suuns, shot by Will-Lew May

Suuns has existed for more than a decade now, blending experimentation with indie-rock, and method with madness. There is a thread which weaves through the experimental post-rock chaos of their works, and though The Witness marks their fifth studio album, the band shows no signs of slowing down any time soon. “People are starting to get us more,” says Yarmush. “And we’re starting to get us more. On our latest album, we’ve begun to understand something about our band, which was always elusive before. I think people are reacting positively to that.”

Luckily for Suuns listeners in Quebec and Europe, the band will be spending the next two months touring across the globe. They will be ending the French-Canadian portion of their tour later this week in Gatineau, and will proceed to spend October and November visiting Belgium, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom and beyond. For more information on tour dates, visit their website.



Suuns

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Spencer Nafekh is a tireless reader, writer, editor, and advocate for the written word. With an undergraduate degree in Concordia's English and Creative Writing program imminent, he plans to pursue a Master's specialization in journalism so that he can fully realize his career path. When Spencer is not working away, he is probably listening to experimental music while lost in the world of a science fiction novel.

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Also Cool's FME Top Picks: Round One

 

Pierre Kwenders by Uproot Andy

If you haven’t already heard of Quebec’s FME (Festival de musique émergente), we’re thrilled to acquaint you. Founded in 2003, FME is an annual music festival held in the beautiful town of Rouyn-Noranda and exclusively highlights independent artists. Our team is grateful to be attending this year’s edition of FME, and leading up to the festival we will be rounding up our list of must-see (and hear!) acts from the 2021 lineup (which is top-tier all around, for the record). Take a peak at our first collection of FME Top Picks below, featuring Pierre Kwenders, Lido Pimienta, Pantayo and Crabe.

Pierre Kwenders by Fanny Viguier

Pierre Kwenders 

Pierre Kwenders is the stage-name of Congolese-Canadian singer-songwriter José Louis Modabi, who is somewhat of a living legend as a Juno-nominated and Polaris-longlisted after-hours king. After immigrating to Canada as a teenager, Kwenders attracted widespread attention for his guest appearance on Radio Radio’s 2012 album Havre de Grace and began releasing his own music shortly thereafter. The Montreal-based musician is celebrated for his music that “is a response to a world that so often asks people who fit comfortably in multiple boxes to pick only one.” Known for rapping and singing in multiple languages (English, French, Lingala and Tshiluba), Kwenders is also recognized for his percussive rhythms that command undeniable danceability. If you find yourself in Montreal, check out Kwenders’ after-hours Moonshine soirées, held every Saturday after the full moon in a location only disclosed via text message the day of the event. 

Pierre Kwenders will be performing at FME on September 2nd, 2021 at 7:00PM EST

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Lido Pimienta by Daniela Murillo

Lido Pimienta 

Another trailblazer on our Top Picks list is Lido Pimienta, the Afro-Indigenous, Colombian-Canadian superstar who dazzles audiences with her artistry, while simultaneously confronting systemic toxicity that permeates society at large. With the 2016 Polaris-Prize win under her belt, Pimienta is known for her mesmerizing poetry, electronic soundscapes that embrace her Afro-Indigenous traditions, and a wholeheartedly punk stage-presence and outlook.  Now based in Toronto, Pimienta also works as a visual artist and curator who explores “the politics of gender, race, motherhood, identity and the construct of the Canadian landscape in the Latin American diaspora and vernacular.” To top it off, she has of the most eye-catching performance attire and visuals we have ever seen. 

Lido Pimienta will be performing at FME on September 2nd, 2021 at 7:00PM EST

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Pantayo by Sarah Bodri

Pantayo 

Pantayo’s 2020 self-titled debut is constantly spinning for us. This Canadian queer quintet based in Toronto is made up of members of the Filipino diaspora. Formed in 2012, Pantayo combines of kulintang —an ancient form of Southeast-Asian instrumental percussion using gongs, drums and chimes— with elements of synth-pop, punk and R&B to create infectious rhythms as a basis for their ethereal soundscapes. Named as one of NOW Magazine’s Toronto Indie Musicians to Watch in 2018, their debut LP was shortlisted for the 2020 Polaris Music Prize. The group is perhaps the first ever act to fuse the rippling effect of a gong with pop sensibilities; a feat made clear by their name, which is Tagalog for “for us.” 

Pantayo will be performing at FME on September 2nd, 2021 at 7:00PM EST

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Photo credit: Crabe

Crabe

Self-described “présent-punk” duo Crabe are constantly pushing the envelope with their aggressive, experimental sound and work ethic. Known for their energetic, chaotic live performances and a career that spans over the last 15 years, the band has played over 250 shows and are a staple in Quebec’s experimental music roster. Their most recent release Sentients is described by Mothland as “a tribute to out-of-date sounds [due to] the band offloading their traditional rock n’ roll instruments to pursue new avenues of ‘crabisme.’” Possibly making the most noise between two people, Crabe are sure to wake us up from the quarantine haze with their industrial, thrashing expansion on punk’s skeleton.

Crabe will be performing at FME on September 3rd, 2021 at 10:00PM EST

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For more information on FME, to review the festival schedule and purchase tickets, please visit their website.


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Toronto's New Chance Makes Existentialism Danceable on New Album "Real Time"

 

New Chance (Victoria Cheong), shot by Yuula Benivolski

Toronto’s New Chance (Victoria Cheong) has joined the roster over at new indie label We Are Time with the release of her new LP Real Time. A long time collaborator of artists like Lido Pimienta, Jennifer Castle, post-punk icon Chandra and reggae legend Willi Williams, Cheong creates meditative electronic pop soundscapes that are suitable for unwinding from day-job restlessness as well as surrendering to the hum of a late-night dancefloor. On her latest offering Real Time, Cheong brings her reflections on nature’s abstract cycles to the forefront, between spellbinding textures and an eclectic sampling of everything from Calypso percussion to a sunrise rooster crow. We caught up with Cheong on how she wrestles with profound existential questions within the scope of her ever-changing creative outlets.

Zoë Argiropulos-Hunter for Also Cool: Something that struck me while reading about Real Time was that the album artwork is a photo of your grandfather’s. Can you tell me more about this picture and the role it plays in the context of Real Time as a whole? 

Victoria Cheong: I was really inspired by these scrapbooks I have of my grandfathers that are filled with photos of his garden, pictures of garden shows and cutouts from newspapers and magazines about plants. They’re beautiful and I was moved by being able to see through his eyes, in a way. During the pandemic, these hobby scrapbooks were are around me and I found myself flipping through the pages. Eventually, I ended up reworking some of his photographs into the album artwork. The image I chose [for the album’s cover] of the night blooming cactus is a great metaphor for the themes of this record; cycles of time and nature. There’s a kind of patrilineal connection creeping into the record, which I totally didn’t set out to do… but the “father energy” just came about organically in a way that fit perfectly with some of the ideas I was mediating on.

Real Time album artwork by Jackson Cheong, Gord Cheong and Victoria Cheong

Also Cool: It’s so interesting that the photo ended up informing the work in such an unexpected way. To riff off of you mentioning temporality: You move through different spaces on this album, both in a temporal sense, but also in an emotional sense. I don’t want to use the word “tensions” to describe what you’re working with here because it sometimes carries a negative connotation, but you’ve mentioned reconciling with people’s’ relationships with nature, for example, or our existence in relation to “time” and the feelings that can bring about. Where does the song forming process start for you when you’re reckoning with society’s positions on these immense topics? 

Victoria Cheong: I definitely tend to be more beat-driven for sure. A lot of the lyrical content in my work is basically a stream of consciousness, like diary-style venting and questioning of the world around me (laughs). I like turning ideas around in my mind and kind of puzzling over things, like my observations on life and so on. I tend to be an experimenter and tinker with different things, despite having no set format for how I work. I like to collect sounds and put them together. So, for example, I might follow a rhythm or vocal melody, zoom in on that, and see what builds from there. Most of my songs are sampler-based, which really allows for this kind of collage-y process. The sampler has definitely informed a lot of my music-making up until now!

That said, during the pandemic the way I usually work was totally turned on its head because half the songs were written pre-COVID, which meant I had to reevaluate my workflow when the world around me became so different. So, I found that once I had the vision that I was going to finish the record, it shifted the way I was creating. I became way more intentional and deliberate in terms of songwriting towards the end of this process, which was a new development in my otherwise “loose” approach. 

AC: Can you place when or where that shift in direction might have come from? 

VC: I don’t think I can pinpoint it! To tell you the truth, I’ve never dedicated the space and time entirely towards making a record, so being absorbed in the process was a welcomed change. In the past, I would juggle working and performing and make songs here and there, with a lack of focus. Once I could slow down and get in the headspace to concentrate on my own work, that lent itself to, you know, all the aspects of musical production, writing and so on.  

AC: It’s funny that you say that, because I think that really comes through on your vocal performance on this record. Knowing that you are a background vocalist for several acts, what inspired you to take on a more forward approach with your singing and lyrics with Real Time

VC: I think it comes from enough experience with performing. Backup singing has definitely helped me figure out how to embody lyrics and sing words that aren’t my own, while also expressing them in a meaningful way. It’s also informed my confidence for sure. I’ve learned how to nurture my main instrument, my voice, over the years, and I suppose working alone [during the pandemic] let my confidence take over.

AC: I’ve never really thought about backup singing like that before; in a sense that you’re taking on someone else’s words and you have to mean it. Even though this record is, of course, coming first and foremost from your perspective wholly, are there any versions of “Victoria” that you’ve worked with throughout conceptualizing and realizing Real Time? In other words, would you say you’ve embodied other sides of yourself and how have you wrestled with that experience if so?

VC: You mean my relationship with my different selves? 

AC: Yeah, exactly! 

VC: Now that this record is out, I feel like it acts as a type of ending for me actually! In a true sense, it offers closure on a period of my life and a new beginning. As an artist, I’m steering my ship in a bit of a different direction in terms of trying new things, and definitely shedding versions of my “past selves” and some of the creative habits that I held onto.

AC: When you say trying new things; were you taking up any kind of new musical experiments or exploring paths that you hadn’t gone down with your music before? Other than the intentionality with your vocal performance that we talked about before, of course. 

VC: Hmm… different paths. Well, my track “Two Pictures” is the only song on the album that features another person, Karen Ng, who plays saxophone. We were working on a recording session for a completely different project when I started directing some improvised scores and recorded Karen’s playing. I then built [“Two Pictures”] entirely off of that improv session, so what you hear on the record an improvised sample that was created completely separate from the song… before it even existed (laughs)! 

So, that was a path that I want to continue working on. I’d like to improvise with other musicians and manipulate those collaborations, as in creating songs around them or editing them or whatever! Creating improvisational scores that are more conceptual is definitely more exciting to me rather than actually writing out music… which I don’t really know how to do anyways (laughs). 

AC: To ask a more standard question, what inspirations did you bring to the table in this album? I keep thinking about the collage concept you touched on before, and I’d love it if you could zone in on some of its elements. 

VC: Hmm, well there really is a whole medley! I’m, of course, always curious to tune into backing vocals because they have been all over the place over the decades and I find that they are all I ever hear now as someone who sings backup vocals. Something that did come up in terms of inspiration was actually Bobby McFerrin’s “Don’t Worry Be Happy.” It’s a big song from my childhood, but it really inspires me because all of the instrumentation is just vocals! That whole record is amazing.

AC: Wow, that never occurred to me until just now! 

VC: Yeah! It’s so cool what is possible with voices. In terms of other inspirations, Jennifer Castle, Leonard Cohen, Bob Marley and the Whalers, as well as modern day R&B for its uplifting instrumentation come about in my work, too.

AC: Perhaps this is a bit of a painful question to end off on, but since so much of this project is in your hands and the world is starting to look more like the “before-times”: Do you have any idea of how you’d like to share Real Time, in well, real time (laughs)? 

VC: Well, I think I will let [the record] transform into a new experience for me. I need to figure out how to pay it live and how to share it in that way. I’ll keep working and looking and other ways to create and share music while trying out some of those different creative paths I mentioned before!  

Listen to Real Time below!

New Chance

Website | Instagram | Twitter

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Zoë Argiropulos-Hunter (she/her) is the co-founder and managing editor of Also Cool Mag. Aside from the mag, she is a music promoter & booker, and a radio host & DJ.


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PREMIERE: Slic Shares Director's Cut of Hypnotic Electronic Track "EZ"

 
ez_cover_final.jpg

Single cover shot by Ana Hernandez.

You know that feeling when you've been out all night with your friends, it's 5 AM, and you're debating whether or not to get breakfast together, that feels so purely like going out in the summertime? Still buzzed from the night before, traces of glitter and silvery outfits shimmering in the morning sun? Maybe I'm getting a little too niche here, but for those of you who know exactly what I'm talking about, "Ez," the latest track from electronic-pop artist Slic, captures this feeling of endless summer and early-morning adventures perfectly.

Slic is a Venezuelan-American artist based in Brooklyn-by-way-of-Miami. Their longstanding affair with the club began as a teenager in Miami amidst the EDM explosion of the early 2010s while Carl Cox was still DJing underground warehouse parties.

They integrate structural threads of Venezuelan music not found in the sample library: beat patterns drawn from tambores, reggeaton, and merengue are loaded up with digitally-generated specimens of sound. In their compositions, the laptop grid becomes a vantage point from which to build a shimmering, transnational future.

"Music can be a way to channel collective wish fulfillment," they explain, embracing a crucial element of pop: the visceral romance of pure belief that punctures through and out into the glaring light of reality."

Watch the exclusive director's cut of EZ below.

Videographer by Ana Maria Hernandez

Directed by Ana, Khalil Flemming, and Slic

Slic

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Malaika Astorga is the co-founder of Also Cool. She is a Mexican-Canadian visual artist, writer, and social media strategist currently based in Montreal.


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Hildegard (Helena Deland & Ouri) Talk Friendship, section1 & Remembering How to Fly

 
Hildegard by Jules Moskovtchenko

Hildegard by Jules Moskovtchenko

To understand the world of Hildegard is to immerse yourself in the deep waters of Helena Deland and Ouri's soul connection and friendship. Their debut record has been described as the result of merging their identities, coupled with a complete loss of ego. The result is a beautiful and experimental eight-track experience, documenting the creative bond they share.

The duo are both accomplished musicians in their own right, both having toured the world with their individual projects. They've also been longtime Montreal friends, and over the years, the three of us have gotten to know each other through many shows, nights out, and mutual friends. 

I caught up with Ouri and Helena earlier last week to talk about the album, their friendship, dreams, and their label section1. I explained right off the bat that I wanted to skip the typical PR questions and get into the more esoteric, conceptual energy and of the record. They happily agreed and took me by the hand into the world of Hildegard. 

Malaika Astorga for Also Cool: I first heard the album three years ago, and it's so exciting to have watched it come to fruition so beautifully, but I guess we should start at the beginning. How did you two become friends?

Ouri: We had been gravitating around each other for a while. We initially met through a friend group when we were around 20 years old. We properly became friends when our manager suggested that we do a few studio sessions together. It was so immediately effortless, and there were no expectations. We just completely connected.

Helena Deland: The friend group where we met unintentionally revolved around a couple guys. The whole group gravitated towards certain people, and everyone acted in response to those individuals instead of each other. This became obvious when we hung out one-on-one and became friends. It was crazy that we didn't sense that before.

O: If we had never experienced that, it would've been such a loss. It was such a fundamental part of my life experience. 

Hildegard by Jules Moskovtchenko

Hildegard by Jules Moskovtchenko

Also Cool: It is very Montreal to exist around people until you finally connect individually one way or another after seeing each other around for so long. 

What have you learned about friendship and your creative connection with each other throughout this process?

I've seen you both out in the world together so much, and it seems like you have a really happy friendship. I specifically remember you two drawing outside of Pumpui together, and it seems so beautiful to have a friend with whom you can be your inner child.

H: It's interesting because I do feel like the way that I exist with Ouri is so unique. [She] brings out things in me that my other friends don't, which is also true about the music. 

This collaboration is more than the sum of its parts; it depends on its alchemy. We've also spent so much time one-on-one for this project that people always tell us we act like siblings. 

O: I never feel like I have to be a highly individual part of this group, I just want to blend, and I want this energy to circulate all the time. I think that this is an essential part of our friendship. I feel like since we experienced this together, we've been researching flexibility and ego, and we're trying to get back to that every time. When we're on video shoots, and we're not crossing paths all day, it feels very wrong. We need the excitement and comfort that we share together.

AC: It sounds like a really nice soulmate connection.

Both: Yeaaaaaa (blush)

AC: Your record sounds like when Durocher (an after-hours in Montreal) was at its peak: Where you could walk through all the walkways, to all the different parties alone; knowing you would find your friends or make new ones along the way. At the same time, the album also feels very vulnerable and without ego. 

Going into it making the album, did you intend to make it a dance record, or did you want to just try and see what happened?

H: It was very unintentional. We usually resume it by describing the first day in the studio, where we were super excited and eased into the atmosphere. We had a drink in the evening, and it was kind of a party atmosphere. So the tone kind of has to do with how we broke the ice.

AC: If the record is a late night out with a friend, what would your morning routine look like? Would you make breakfast? Would you not talk? Would you lie down in the park to try and get over the hangover?

O: I think we would do a yoga session in the morning and then let each other choose what we wanted to eat, and then we would stare at a fire.

H: Haha yeah, we would make a fire and take our time with that. We also love discussing and unpacking the night before. 

We would definitely have a time without each other too, maybe on separate walks, and then we would come back to each other. We know this by experience, really. (laughs)

O: We were together for two weeks the last time. We would party and then try to come back to life.

Hildegard by Jetro Emilcar

Hildegard by Jetro Emilcar

AC: The tone for Jour 1 has been described as "Processing by partying." Both of you have travelled all over the place. You have experienced all kinds of different things, so I'm wondering what your most transformative party experience has been. 

H: There are so many, but there's this feeling that I sometimes get that's interesting. It feels like a "life drive," but at the same time, it comes when you're out, not sleeping, drinking and so on, so there's also this death drive to it, too. 

It's the feeling of time passing, and I just want it to stop, and every time I look at the clock, it's scandalizing that it's gotten so late. I just love those nights where it feels like if you could stop time or if you could exchange a little of the future for more of this, you'd do it. It's a very present moment feeling.

O: The beginning of summer in Montreal, maybe Durocher, maybe Moonshine. It's 5am, the sun is starting to maybe come out a bit. I would stop time to always live in this. We've also experienced this feeling together after doing the album. This was just a crazy night.

H: The one where we ended up on the soccer pitch?

O: No, the one with the mic at Durocher. (laughs)

H: There was also the one where we played Piknic.

O: Oh yes! We had lost Helena in the crowd, and she reappeared at the most epic moment of the set. There were hundreds of people everywhere. But also that experience of losing your friend at a party and then finding them again is very special.

AC: Well, I was going to ask, what would a perfect Montreal summer night be for you? 

H: I think the unexpectedness of nights in Montreal is one of its best qualities. It's small geographically, and you don't know where you'll run into someone. Everyone lives a 30-minute walk away from each other, and so you can end up on anybody's roof. Like that night, you played Piknic, and we walked home.

O: We played games and explored all the different metro stations and all the parks.

H: It's nice to think that this is almost possible again for the first time in a year now.

AC: Hildegard seems very much like a world. Can you describe this world as if it were a dream?

O: It's a castle.

H: An H-shaped castle.

O: We can run between towers and different rooms.

H: There's beautiful nature, but there's also something a little eerie. We wrote a really cool story to go with a playlist, and every step was following Hildegard's day. It was very community-oriented, but there were lonesome moments, but also sensuality and self-care.

O: That's also a mystical experience, to share with a community. 

H: But the dream, it would be a pretty lucid dream. 

AC: Do you have a favourite dream?

O: Since I was a kid, whenever I feel trapped, I think about flying before going to sleep. In my dream, I just run and fly, and I go everywhere. I feel free. This is something that I love to do.

H: Wow, so you're a good lucid dreamer! 

AC: I do the same! I always knew I could fly in my dreams, and I knew that I just had to remember how to do it. It's amazing

H: It's the closest we'll come to flying in this life. 

Hildegard by Jetro Emilcar

Hildegard by Jetro Emilcar

AC: Helena, your most recent album profiles the emotional fallout of when two people put their lives in each others' hands. Hildegard feels like the healed, higher-self from this experience. How does it feel different to put your life in Ouri's hands?

H: Aww, it's amazing, honestly. It is a big part of what's so joyful on the record; there's this intense fusional energy and abandonment of others and gradual attunement to how to make the other feel good. The reward is the music we make together, and the company, and the moments we share. 

It feels so liberating and like we understand each other in ways that are not always given in heterosexual relationships, even though we're just friends. I personally haven't really experienced this kind of closeness with a collaborator and friend. Having those things meshed together, it's eye-opening to all of what's possible in terms of proximity. But it's also this whole learning process; we're constantly adjusting and growing together. 

AC: You've worked with a lot of different people for the visuals of the project. Can you tell me more about your collaborators and that process?

O: We started working with Melissa Matos, who built the conceptual visual world of Hildegard. She had a whole team of people doing graphic design, 3d work, photos, etc.

AC: Yeah, your website feels like a portal into that world you're describing. 

H: Every element of the website is from our texts, our conversations, our emails, our sounds… But it's also designed to really include the interaction, and whoever wants to use it can explore with it, which is true of the music. 

It acts more as a space to project things onto and into. Melissa has been so helpful in designing an intentional world.

H_LP_cover_H.jpg

Hildegard album art

AC: How's it been working with section1? You're their first release and their introduction to the world of what section1 is. You've also been involved in the music industry for quite a while, and I'm wondering what this experience has been like?

H: It's been super exciting. I sent our songs to Brontë because I wanted her to help place it in this industry. I trust her and her taste, and I thought she would be a good person to understand what we were trying to do. So when she responded by telling us that she wanted to release it, we were elated. 

It's been so nice to develop the world of Hildegard as they develop the world of section1 and be proud of one another's projects.

O: Being introduced to their network has been really amazing. It feels like it's alive and not a stiff uni-dimensional thing. It's one of the first times I feel like the team received our work, and we're so excited about it. 

H: I remember when Brontë told me she was going to start a label. She told me she had a secret, and I thought it was about who she was dating. Instead, she told me she was going to launch a record label, and I started crying.

I think part of the label works into the mythology of Hildegard at this point because it was so organic and unsought after, which is also the case with section1.

AC: What does the future of the project hold?

O: We have dreams, we want to travel together to places we've never been before

H: This is working so well for me so far, where Hildegard is this project that I can put in all my attention for very focused amounts of time. I want to keep doing that; it nourishes everything else in a really lovely way. We have the backbone of the next record ready as well, which is exciting.

We want to make music elsewhere and keep exploring how environments influence the creative flow. The last two times we were together for a long time were in March, and that seems to have a specific vibe.

It's kind of like the third character, the place that we make music in. The studio we made this record in was so important to us, and it no longer exists, so it's a very nostalgic mind space.

Listen to Hildegard below

Hildegard

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Malaika Astorga is the co-founder of Also Cool. She is a Mexican-Canadian visual artist, writer, and communications specialist currently based in Montreal.


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Nature Is Healing, Change Is Imminent: YlangYlang Releases New Album "Cycles & Decay"

 

Image credit: Thomas Boucher

Imagine laying on a densely-covered forest floor, soft moss cushioning your head, enveloping your hands as you push into it, sinking deeper, becoming one with the foliage. A cool morning dew wets your clothes and you take a satisfying little stretch as you think, “I am but a small frog in an opportunity-filled pond.”

Or maybe you’re just cold, or too distracted by the loons crying on the lake. Either way, this small ritual of participating in the natural cycles of your surroundings strikes a chord - it’s comforting.

Catherine Debard’s new release, “Cycles & Decay,” on Montreal label Everyday Ago, is a reflection on the healing cycles found in nature - growth, decay, erosion, renewal. Debard is a prominent figure in Montréal’s electronic music scene, both in the underground as well as in the academic setting. Her experimental solo project, YlangYlang, spans over a decade of deep-rooted involvement through performances and releases featuring an elegant layering of field recordings over ambient drones, noise, spoken word poetry, and live instrumentals from collaborators.

Releasing on international labels including Crash Symbols (USA), Phinery (DK), Fluere Tapes (SE) and ΠΑΝΘΕΟΝ (RU), YlangYlang has also graced the line-ups at festivals including Suoni Per Il Popolo, Mutek Montréal, Electric Eclectics, Strangewaves, and Tone Deaf. Debard participated in a residency at Red Bull Music Academy at Calgary's National Music Center and in a workshop hosted by Suzanne Ciani.

Lose yourself in the deeply intimate organic soundscapes of “Cycles & Decay” - or in YlangYlang’s words in the, “decomposed sound matter,” “rotten music,” or “compost music” that sets its own parameters, flowing non-linearly towards healing - and check out the equally intimate interview below to be taken on a journey of slowing down, recalibrating, and taking inspiration from nature’s controlled chaos and unyielding cycles of creation and destruction.

Maya Hassa for Also Cool: What was the landscape you were in when making these recordings (either the field recordings or other parts as well) and what were you feeling while being there?

Catherine Debard: I began working on Cedar St. the day media were reporting about the Amazon forest wildfires, in August of 2019. I remember watching footage in awe, while recording cassette loops through distortion pedals. It felt pretty surreal, and heavy I guess. The song was actually called 'Cendres' (Ashes) until earlier this year. The four songs have an end-of-Summer-early-Fall vibe to them, so I'd say earthy landscapes, grey skies, crisp air, burnt orange, russet, crimson, amber, olive, and disintegrated fragments of nature scattered in lovely ways. I regularly roamed the back alleys from my house to Jarry Park back then - I usually walk when I need to ponder and clear my head. 

I listened to the rough versions of the tracks, trying to find possible structures for them, unlocking the mysteries within. These walks were very contemplative. I felt deeply attuned to nature's slow decay, zooming my attention to dehydrated fruits, shrivelled delicate leaves, scattered strange shrubs, patches of moss, the smell of damp earth.

Also Cool: Maybe it’s because I’m in a forest while I write this, but Cedar St. and Waning Now sound like laying on the forest floor while being consumed by the moss and lichen surrounding you, maybe even decomposing with it. How would you describe the idea of decay in sound - in the composition of a piece, the sound manipulation, or the possibility of decaying music in its physical recorded state? 

CD: While isolated at home last year, I became interested in trying to re-grow leaves from the cores of vegetables. On our kitchen table, I grew little leafy ecosystems, miniature islands in glass bowls. Leaves would grow to a certain point, then they'd wilt, and their entire appearance would start to shift. The greens would either fade or veer into yellows, browns, or peach tints, strange furs would appear as mold and slime began to spread. It was pretty captivating. Around the same time, I was contemplating the idea of 'shadow self', or in a very simplistic way, the subterraneous, dark counterpart of the conscious self that contains the ugly repressed stuff. I've oftentimes tried to bridge this disconnect between my mental activity (mostly rational and mundane), and the raw, unexplored potential underneath, which I can't access. I’ve wondered about the possibility of 'eroding the mind' metaphorically, using these decay processes I was witnessing in nature.

I've decided to apply this idea to music and composition. It led me to develop, within each song, a kind of relational system in which the sounds would interact with each other. I'd imagine various strategies in order for them to affect one another through various causal reactions, either in 'cooperative' or disruptive ways: 

'What if, every time this sound erupts, it generates little patches of sound fur onto that layer of synth? What would happen to the synth?' 

'What if the static quality of this recording was influenced by the dynamics of this bass movement as if it were pushed by the wind?' 

'How can a piano emerge out of this rumble of sounds and evaporate into thin air?' 

'Can the song flicker in a subtle way, like the sunlight seeping through the leaves of a tree?' 

The more abstract, the better. It forced me to seek new mixing & assembling techniques that would concretize these conceptual ideas.

AC: The second track feels like sitting on a dock in the rain, glass bottles washing up on the shore, reminiscing. What is the meaning of the lyrics on Penumbra

CD: That sounds really good, I wish I were there! Penumbra is a love song written just before the dawn of a relationship. Now that I think about it, it's the only love song I've ever written in a profuse catalogue of songs about relationships! It's telling - I've given a lot of thought on the subject, read countless books, and experienced various iterations of disappointment, frustration and doubt throughout the years. Then, in 2019, a new perspective emerged. Nothing new, really, but the difference was that instead of intellectualizing my way through it, I saw a concrete path. 

The first step was to jump out of my head and dive inwards to investigate the darkened, the uncomfortable, the dim, the vague, the penumbral. What is in there?!! Then, I needed to foster a kinder relationship with my inner self, gather together all the pieces hidden in the corners, not just the flattering parts. Right around that time, I met someone I could imagine being this truer version of myself with, someone with whom I could explore and fabricate a new kind of relationship, something truly good. It felt dizzying, like being on the edge of a cliff and taking a leap into the unknown. That's what the song is about; the decision to make oneself vulnerable again, carefully, by removing the protective barriers - and also being intrigued by the unknown. It can even be a love song towards a renewed connection to oneself as well.

AC: There’s a sense of controlled chaos throughout the tracks - sounds cycle between harshness and what seems like the exaggerated or over-amplified sound of rushing water or wind, and lush, bright moments of renewal. The music has a natural, nonlinear behaviour, but also a sense of a journey towards healing, flowing between good and bad moments. Is this state of healing what the album title, “Cycles & Decay”, is also alluding to? 

CD: Yes, totally! Change is imminent, it permeates everything, so I'm trying to make friends with it, to jam with it. I've had a good amount of highs and lows, I've struggled with my mental health, with my physical health, I've experienced losses, some harder to recover from than others, I am aware that I will suffer in the future too. With time, I started noticing the cyclic feel of my own life, the reoccurring waves, ever shifting, yet familiar. I thought that in order to avoid sourness, I should cooperate with the cycles instead of fighting against them. For me, that means being malleable, listening to myself more, trying to stay vulnerable and open (and not turn into ice), and exploring ways to heal and learn out of hardships, while developing tools that help me navigate the inevitable. Things will get rough again, but it's not a reason to reject happiness when it's available - or to cling to the good times. I want to be a positive force, not one that drags down.

As for chaos and non-linearity, I feel that it's what keeps me alert and challenges me in a good way. It would be easy to slip into stubbornness, despair or denial. We wake up every day and live in a society that isn't good for the majority of human beings - it's important to remember that again and again. 

Whitesupremacy-colonialism-capitalism-racism-oppressivesystems-pillageanddestructionoftheEarth

Not only that, we also have to reckon with the toxic stuff we've inherited from them, some nasty things like the notion, for example, that if I don't have a respectable career, I am considered a failure. That's ugly, right? It makes absolutely no sense to me; my value system rejects this idea, and yet I struggle with it often!

There are so many things to deal with, all at the same time, and chaos wakes me up - it makes me pay attention! Noticing times like the other day, when I did something that went against my values, becoming aware of when I contradict myself, listening to other perspectives and genuinely trying to get them, being gracefully present during an afternoon by the railroad tracks, obsessing about the future and then, after a few days, feeling at peace with it. Being proud of a friend's achievement, while acknowledging a tinge of envy, saying ‘fuck off’ to the idea of perfection, being able to articulate a complicated idea out loud for the first time... 

Working on music connects me with myself, eases the anxiety and helps me deal with unpredictability by creating my own unpredictable, chaotic musical landscapes and then, problem-solving / finding new ideas to make them sound good. I separate myself into two parts - a creative force and a destructive one. The destructive side is rambunctious, reckless, angry, sabotaging, it takes pleasure in making a mess, but it does so while trusting that the other side will come and harmonize everything. It's pretty therapeutic!

AC: Is there a story of a naturally occurring cycle or historical experience you would want to share? One that could provide some context to the cycles of sonic decay and rebirth you described? 

CD: The first cycle I became aware of was the cycle of the Moon. As I became more cognizant of the external influences I bathed in, I grew better at handling my mood swings & energy fluctuations. I felt I could better cooperate with the intangible forces. Paying attention to my menstrual cycle gave me some precious insight, too! Instead of forcing things, I try to better respect my body and its rhythms. Seasons form an important cycle too. I realized recently that I often create sound material during the Summer, assemble it into songs during the Fall, and mix and master music during Winter. In the Spring I feel too scattered to do anything. 

There are also larger life cycles, ones where you feel like you are tackling a big 'theme' in your life. I'll end by giving an example of one. A few years ago, I saw three snakes in the span of a month. The day before I caught sight of the first snake, I had a conversation with a friend about the concept of 'Mono No Aware' while sitting in the passenger seat of his car. As he pulled the definition and read it to me, I felt seen, as if something deep inside was acknowledged, followed by the realization I wasn't alone feeling this way. The first snake was a beautiful, golden and white snake in the middle of a dirt road in New Mexico, the second one was a lean black one with a red line on his back, and the third one, a smaller brownish grass-snake on a mountain in Hamilton, ON. I had always been afraid of snakes, as a symbol and in real life, and I had never seen any before. From then on, I associate a snake with the ouroboros symbol, and seeing one signals a new start for me.

AC: I can’t help but ask what your workshop with Suzanne Ciani was about?

CD: Suzanne Ciani is so inspiring. As legendary as she is, she emanates realness - and that's truly refreshing. She mostly talked to us about her relationship with the Buchla synthesizer, showed us her way around it, how to set it up, how to build a sequence. I'd never even dreamed of playing with one myself, so it was great to get to learn about the electrical pathways and how it modulates within the machine. It gave me ideas about composition - that's what financial constraint does, it motivates you to find alternative ways to create results, I'm getting quite good at it! Suzanne also shared stories from her early days in the experimental electronic music scene, and how she built  a pretty inspiring career for herself by staying bold and determined. I hope I soaked up some of her energy! 

Listen to “Cylces & Decay” below

YlangYlang

Bandcamp I Instagram I Soundcloud I Spotify

Composed & Produced by Catherine Debard

Recorded between 'my apartment in Montréal'
& Fort Rose, Hamilton in 2019

Catherine Debard: Piano, Synthesizers, Field Recordings, Noises & Textures, Vocals

Connor Bennett: Saxophone & Effects on Track 2 & 4

Evelyn Charlotte Joe: Acoustic Guitar & Effects on Track 2
Upright Bass & Toy Piano on Track 4

Video for Cedar St. by Charline Daily

Mastered by Amar Lal
Artwork by Catherine Debard


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Simone Provencher's "Mesures" EP is a Captivating Exercise in Musical Trust

 

Mesures cover art, credit to Camille Bertini

 
 

Looking for something to spice up that spring cleaning playlist? We’ve got just the trick – Hull-based composer Simone Provencher has just released their debut EP Mesures, and its playful exploration of free jazz and electro-acoustic stands out.

Provencher, the guitarist of Quebec City’s post-punk outfit VICTIME, crafted the EP after their relocation to Gatineau. Their feelings of estrangement unleashed a passion within them to lay the foundations for this project. To enhance what the artist referred to as a “creative conversation”,  Provencher enlisted the percussive stylings of Olivier Fairfield (Fet Nat, Timber Timbre) and the woodwind improvisation of Elyze Venne-Deshaies.

 
 
Simon Provencher. Photo credit: Charlotte Savoie

Simone Provencher. Photo credit: Charlotte Savoie

 
 

Mesures exists as the outcome of musical trust between the trio, and challenges the listener to embrace new sensations. “Choix multiples” is fittingly named, a landscape of hypnotic patterns and colours. “Et quart,” the latest single from the EP, marries Venne-Deshaies’ curious clarinet with Provencher’s grating feedback, and leads to emotions previously uncharted. 


Mesures awakens the senses from winter’s frost and embraces impulse with open arms. Its confusion serves an intriguing purpose. This avant-garde EP moves the listener through daring acts of dissonance, and proves that Provencher is one to watch in Quebec’s experimental scene.

 
 
 
 

MESURES

Released via Michel Records on March 26, 2021

SP_EP_ART_Camille_Bertini_1440.jpg

1. Choix multiples

2. Mesures

3. Pesée

4. Toutes ces réponses

5. Et quart

6. Repus

Produced by Simone Provencher

Recorded by Simone Provencher, François Mackin and Olivier Fairfield

Mastered by Simon Labelle at DAÏMÔN, Hull


Side A

Clarinet and FX by Elyze Venne-Deshaies

Drums, percussions, and acoustic guitar by Olivier Fairfield

Electric guitar and synths by Simone Provencher

Side B

Clarinet and FX by Elyze Venne-Deshaies

Feedback by Simone Provencher

Album visuals by Camille Bertini

Mesures is now available to stream and purchase – take a listen here!


 
 

Simone Provencher

Bandcamp | Soundcloud

Spotify | Apple Music | YouTube

Rebecca Judd is the features editor of Also Cool Mag.


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Premiere: punctï Makes a Case For Colouring Inside the Lines With "Surprise"

 

punctï is the most intriguing practice of musical constraints since Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies (or at least we think so). Turning the concept of limitation on its head, multifaceted experimental artist Laura Bardsley (and her alternating cast of one-off collaborators) strive(s) to embrace a “less is more” mindset by creating an album once a month following the same set of guidelines: composition, recording and overdubbing are done in the first, single session, and; post-production is done in another session, who’s duration is roughly the same length as the first. By cultivating a conceptual environment that aims to stretch the possibilities of performance and improvisation, Bardsley captures the “noise, meditation and inner turmoil” at the core of “Yes-Wave.” At the same time, Bardsley explains that “[the] project is all about reclaiming that childhood joy and wonder, without all the learned insecurity.”

Today, punctï premieres her 48th release, Surprise. In 15 tracks that graze the minute mark, punctï paces, yo-yos and chips away at the question she asks herself time and time again: “How do you feel today?” We had the chance to catch up with Bardsley on tinkering solo with her sampler, the restlessness of late-capitalism, and why Tiffany Haddish is “nobody’s bitch” to celebrate the four years of punctï. Check out our full interview below.

Zoë Argiropulos-Hunter for Also Cool: Hi Laura! Thank you so much for chatting with Also Cool. Before we get into the specifics of your latest album Surprise, let's talk about the punctï project. What inspired you to pursue such an ambitious endeavor? In what ways has working within the punctï framework impacted your artistic process, as a musician or as a performance artist?

Laura Bardsley: punctï started 4 years ago on a rather dejected Valentine's Day evening. I had a four track app on my phone and decided to make at least four tracks with the app in one night. After releasing my first album, I realized that it would be super fun to continue making albums in very short time-frames, especially if I collaborated with other artists. [The constraints of punctï] allow my collaborators and I to flex our music muscles every month, and I’ve learned enough about producing, mixing and mastering that I’ve realized there is so much more to learn.

I learned that Wile E. Coyote and Road Runner's relationship was built on a set of rules, just like punctï. It's really illuminated the endless possibilities of what is possible under a specific framework. For performing, I channel a disillusioned office worker, and it's a blast because: a) I've never worked in an office, so it's an acting challenge, and; b) It's a meld of performance art, music, choreography and comedy; sincerely the most fun I can have in one performance.

Also Cool: On that note, you've spoken to how your work channels and critiques feelings of restlessness and inadequacy within the constraints of late-capitalism. How has your perception of, and relationship with, these concepts changed and impacted the spirit of punctï with the dawn of COVID-19 and working-from-home?

LB: My perception of these concepts has only been cemented by the onset of COVID-19, but with more hope for change and growth than ever before. We're at a point where the whole world is experiencing this restlessness and these feelings of inadequacy. Somehow in our shared anxieties, there is a general understanding that this system is worn out and in need of replacement.

I've been doing remote sessions with my collaborators for most of the pandemic, and it definitely is more of a challenge to get into a creative, open and non-insecure mindset. Thankfully, we have the internet and all its gifts… Although I do truly prefer working with people IRL, and will cherish those sessions when they come back.

AC: Something I noticed when studying the punctï project as a whole is that all your collaborative albums reflect different levels of spontaneity. Can you speak to this notion of "Yes-Wave" that you and your collaborators embrace, and how you embody its mindset throughout your production process?

LB: I attribute the spontaneity to the time constraints and spirit of the project: each album is a record of my collaborators and I are at in that moment of our lives. What is grinding our gears right now? What makes us giggle? What makes us nostalgic?

One of my rules for punctï is that if you really like what you're playing, really feeling it, then change it. Make it better, make it different and challenge yourself to explore it. I used to worship No-Wave music, but at a point the rejection of musicality got old to me — I don't want to reject it, I wanna embrace it. I wanna say Yes to The Wave washing over me.

AC: You've tapered off from partnering with another artist to create Surprise entirely solo. What caused this shift and what influences did you bring into the work?

LB: I've produced the occasional solo punctï album, and since this month marks the project’s four year anniversary, I decided to do it alone. As for constraints, I only used my Sampler PO-33 KO, voice, and bass on one track. I was inspired by Tierra Whack's Whack World, where she made 15 one minute songs. Obviously I'm no Tierra Whack, and some of my tracks are over one minute long, but I really enjoyed making Surprise. At points I wanted to make more sample-based tunes, which I pepper into the record. There's bitter stuff, like "Previous Her,” nostalgia for recess on "Snow Worlds,” sex in "Eyes,” and of course, the anxiety of the pandemic in "Like A Lazy Aristocrat.” Oh, and a song about Tiffany Haddish, cause she's the best.

AC: I feel like with any work, there is always some "lessons learned" sentiment that lingers after it's fully realized. If this idea rings true to you, what has been the main take-away from Surprise?

LB: I think because I make an album per month, it's usually not really until later, looking and listening back that I get some kind of a "lessons learned" feeling. The main takeaway from this album is one I keep having to remind myself of: Why try? Why the fuck not.

AC: To close off, do you plan to continue the punctï monthly releases? Do you have any other projects or collaborations you'd like to plug?

LB: I'm pretty sure I'm gonna keep doing punctï until I die. I did the math and at age 69, I'll be producing album #420.

I do more accessible music under Blue Odeur. My newest single "Foam Born" is out on all platforms and on YouTube with a snazzy video.

Listen to Surprise below!

punctï

Spotify | Bandcamp | Youtube

Instagram | Facebook | Twitter

Laura Bardsley

Website

Zoë Argiropulos-Hunter (She/Her) is the Co-Founder and Editor of Also Cool Mag. Aside from the mag, she is a music promoter & booker, radio host & DJ, and a musician.

This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.


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