Music Creating Its Own Universe: Dileta Cultivates Eclectic Energy in the Electronic Music World

 

Dileta by Moussa Fellahi

From screamo band member to popular Montreal techno DJ, Pascal Rivard, better known as Dileta, is nothing short of a unique and remarkable artist. Prior to meeting them in person for the first time in July, I had seen Rivard perform several times at parties and at raves; their eccentric energy enlivening the room still fresh in my memory. Last month, I had the opportunity to interview Rivard over Zoom, and we discussed music, COVID, and the Montreal electronic music scene.

Born and raised in Ahunstic, Rivard has always been close to Montreal and its dynamic artistic community. They began their musical career in heavy metal and screamo bands during high school, playing bass, guitar, and – you guessed it – as a screamer. During this time, the most popular form of electronic music in Montreal was psytrance, which Rivard would not come to enjoy until much later: “At the time I was too stuck up in my idea of what music was,” they explain. Their musical beginnings still linger as remnants in their electronic music many years later: “Looking back on it I was looking for the same characteristics in the music I was listening as what I enjoy in dance music now. I was always more into the textures and moods, and rhythm play and angularness of the music, more than technical prowess, which is a lot of metal.”

What first initiated their transition into electronic music was their encounter with the coldwave scene in Montreal, a genre they describe as “dark, 80s-inspired, minimal synth music.” Going to coldwave shows was their first “real experience with dance music,” and soon became a full-time passion. While they were living in Sherbrooke studying electrical engineering, they became friends with a Montrealer who showed them “everything about UK bass music, jungle, hardcore, garage, all of that;” genres still very much present in their newer music. “And that’s when it kind of exploded in my brain,” they explain.

The first parties they organized were small ones in the basement of their Hochelaga apartment, after finishing their degree and moving back to Montreal. “Me and a few friends of mine were all taking turns trying to learn.” Their first event, “Bad Timing,” was at La Sotterenea in the Plateau, and presented in collaboration with Lésions. “It was pretty full, and people were dancing… We didn’t know where we were going with all these styles of music, but it was really fun.”

Dileta by Moussa Fellahi

Rivard has since become a staple in the underground Montreal DIY techno scene. Before the pandemic put a halt to all cultural and musical public phenomena, Rivard was achieving what they describe as their “dream life, which was a bit crazy.” As a musical performer, they had never been so busy. They had their music and event platform, Coolground, busy with projects, and were also doing shows as a resident for Homegrown Harvest, a prominent rave-organizing collective in Montreal. “It was so fulfilling and so fun and I got to meet all these amazing new people in the scene all the time,” they said. “Until that all stopped… It was a bit demoralizing.” They now focus on guest and radio mixes, such as with Montreal-based radio n10.as. “I rent a studio and I can still go play loud music, that’s what’s been saving me I think.”

 Another online music-sharing platform they have been playing for is Music Is My Sanctuary, or MIMS. Rivard and one of the platform’s founders had been in touch, and “the two of us hit is off because we’re two ridiculous music dorks, like we enjoy finding music and digging in rabbit holes.” Shortly after the pandemic began, one of the founders asked Rivard to record a mix for MIMS. Now, Rivard makes a seasonal mix every three months for MIMS and is part of the new-release picks team, which chooses new records every week to promote. Alongside these projects and their full-time job as a software developer, they explain they are “still practicing multiple times a week, and trying to perfect vinyl mixing, which is really hard.”

At the time of the interview, their then-latest mix was their favorite they had ever recorded (since then they have released their newest mix dimlit). The mix, titled Skyway Uplink, is a rollercoaster - not only in terms of BPM changes, but in also  track genres, equalization, layering, fading, blending, and grooves. It has enough variation to satisfy any musical taste, literally. According to the Soundcloud description, there’s “IDM, tech house, broken beat, wonky techno, speed garage, club, nu-disco, hardgroove techno, grime/RnG, ghetto house, hardcore, some hard to classify stuff.”

Presented by coolground founder dileta, SKYWAY UPLINK wires you out of routine and into a new simulation every season. You'll find yourself whirling through winding lanes lit by all kinds of coloured gleams and glares. This first installment is deeply inspired by the works of composer Hideki Naganuma and the Japanese bass scene, with a focus on pitched vocal chops, processed funk elements, video game nods, and ultra-electronic speed - let's call it CYBERFUNK. Actual genres included: IDM, tech house, broken beat, wonky techno, speed garage, club, nu-disco, hardgroove techno, grime/RnG, ghetto house, hardcore, some hard to classify stuff.

It includes a lot of influence from cyberfunk, a genre “I’m kind of obsessed with right now,” says Dileta. “It’s really high speed, really synthetic, with really bright synth, really processed, and with video game music influences.” The mix perfectly captures what Rivard searches for in their music: spontaneity and unpredictability. Rivard did about twenty different takes for the first five minutes of the set, and the rest of the two hours in just one. “I felt like I had run a marathon,” they said, chuckling. “I was so concentrated while I was doing it… I was drenched in sweat by the end.”

There is no clear categorization Dileta identifies with in terms of a musical genre or style: “I go everywhere…. If you listen to my mixes it’s going to be all over the place.” BPM is one of the many techniques they like to play around with, but their intent is to stay unpredictable with it. “The instinctual way is to start at 120 and to go up to 170 or 180 or something, but I’ve been trying to do other stuff recently because it gets too predictable and my little teenage angst rebel spirit wants to be unpredictable,” they explain.

They have done sets before which stayed at a steady 115 BPM before suddenly going up to 175 at the end. “You need to feel it, but it can be a powerful too.” For those less familiar with this kind of terminology, imagine listening to Kelly Clarkson’s “What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger” all the way through until the last 30 seconds, and suddenly switching to Iron Maiden’s “Run to the Hills.” Rivard is also keen on practicing cuts with the faders, “less common with the Berlin techno way of doing things, or the house way or the UK bass way, it’s really from Detroit, like from the old school electro-DJs from Detroit, they always have two tracks, [flipping] them with the faders.”

Dileta by Moussa Fellahi

One way to better understand Rivard’s music is through their description of the meaning behind the title of the mix Skyward Uplink: it means nothing. “I like to put words together that make you think of things, but don’t really mean the things they mean,” they explain. “If you read them together they don’t mean anything, but they make you feel things. It’s a bit how I approach DJing, too.”

The variation and diversity within Dileta’s sets are due in large part to the sheer amount of time and effort they regularly spend digging and searching for music. On average, for a 60-minute set, they will have 1,000 songs on their playlist to choose from and will have planned one or two tracks as the anchor of the rest of the set. On their Recordbox alone, they have around 30,000 tracks: “It’s getting out of proportion, but it’s well tagged so I can find what I want.” In terms of technique, Rivard focuses on different blending methods and layering: “It’s a lot of chemistry experiments, like layering things on top of each other and in front of each other in a temporal way.” They describe staying up until 5 am just to discover new music: “My hunger for musical discoveries is a bottomless pit.”

Rivard identifies with what they call the “Mile-End core, queer scene” of the larger Montreal electronic music community. “Montreal is divided into so many scenes, it’s a lot of microcosms of genres of dance music,” they explain. “There’s an industrial techno scene, there’s a minimal house scene, the psytrance scene.” The DIY scene they are a part of organizes underground (sometimes literally, for those who know) dance parties, but also tries to stay politically engaged and community oriented. “I think I love my scene honestly… There’s a lot of concern of safety, always touching upon subjects, [and] trying to do better,” they explain.

Dileta by Moussa Fellahi

Organizing these parties is easier said than done – and for rave collectives in Montreal, the process of finding and being able to pay for venues is not a simple task. “We don’t have many clubs in Montreal which are open to, let’s say, left-field dance music,” says Dileta “A lot of it is done in DIY venues… Sadly most owners don’t really align with our values, it’s always about having to make a compromise to get in some spaces that are [in] more of a capitalist mindset.” The best solution, they argue, would be for the organizers to own venues themselves. “We’re in our little queer political bubble where we think we’ve got our values, and it’s all set and all understood by the scene but you get out… It gets more tense.”

One of their favorite aspects of the scene is the interconnectedness and support found between the organizers, DJs, and participants during raves. “You always feel close to the performers,” they reminisce. “Rave is a feeling when you can lose your body and forget your bodily restraints… I love playing when people are ready to go wild like that.” The conversation with Dileta reminded me of just how much artists and people in DIY communities have always found alternatives to produce and share art in the face of barriers, and with this pandemic it has become clear.

Dileta by Moussa Fellahi

Dileta

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Soline Van de Moortele is a Philosophy student at Concordia/insatiable feminist, raver, and writer. 

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On the Rise and Here to Stay: NOVEMBER'S "Bedroom Eyes" Defines Star-Quality

 

Bedroom Eyes EP album cover, courtesy of NOVEMBER

"This EP is about evolving and coming to terms with some of the more beautiful parts of living but acknowledging what can happen during the harder ones." — NOVEMBER

NOVEMBER is the moniker of Ottawa-born, and now Montreal-bound, singer-songwriter and producer Gregory-Yves Fénélon. Today, he graces us with his dynamic EP Bedroom Eyes. Though the album is self-described as pop, Fénélon’s powerful, velvety vocals and signature dreamscape instrumentals masterfully transcend the genre’s expectations to achieve a truly romantic and innovative sound. Leading up to his release, we had the chance to chat with NOVEMBER about reaching out to his inner child while producing Bedroom Eyes, finding solace in silence, and how he excited he is about re-introducing himself to his listenership with this EP. Read our interview with NOVEMBER below!

Zoë Argiropulos-Hunter for Also Cool: Congratulations on the release of Bedroom Eyes, and thank you so much for collaborating with us again, NOVEMBER! To start, how have you been leading up to the launch of your EP? 2020 has been quite busy for you: working with Japanese act Frasco; performing at POP Montreal; and collaborating on a campaign for Sapporo, to name just a few projects. What has been fuelling your drive and sustaining your creativity as of late? 

NOVEMBER: I honestly really enjoy what I do, which I think should be the case as much as possible in this life. As hard as the last few months have been, music and art have been my primary means of expression for most of my life, so going forward is very much [a] default. Also, when these opportunities pop up, they’re almost like fun little challenges to me. It’s important that I still have so much fun and get so excited. The Sapporo thing, for example, came during a really stressful point in the summer and pandemic, but getting to collaborate with foreign artists on a track (that had to make us and the-powers-that-be happy), [sounded] like a hill [I wanted to] climb! Yes please! And it gives me something to focus on. 


Also Cool: On the EP more specifically, you recorded Bedroom Eyes in your apartment and childhood bedroom. What was the decision behind designating these areas as a studio space? What effects have they had, both conceptually and sonically, on the album? 

NOVEMBER: I’ve always recorded in the bedroom I live in from the time I started making music. I think the habit started because when I was a kid just experimenting, it was a place where I felt safe to try things without fear, which I think is really important for any artist.  It can sometimes be complicated now because I live in a small studio in Montreal and the walls are thin. But hey, I’ve been here almost 6 years through many sessions and [have never gotten] a noise complaint.

Because the EP was done over the course of a year, some stuff was done before the world stopped turning. I was still going to Ottawa to see my mom and knew I’d be back in my childhood bedroom, which hadn’t changed since I left at 18, and seized the opportunity to do some of the wilder vocals whenever I was there. So it’s all come full circle, and these are still the places I feel the least seen and most free. I was belting my ass off at 9PM last summer for this solo on “Red Room,” and that feeling of freedom is really present vocally. I’ve been to studios before too, and even though I’m recording most of my stuff alone in a studio, it more so felt like the case: colder almost and more cavernous. I think the most important thing I had to learn with this EP though was really designating the space for certain things at certain times. I never wanted it all to feel like one murky room all the time. 

NOVEMBER’s home studio, photos courtesy of the artist

AC: Branching off of that, you described yourself as a child as "creative and emotional," with a significant interest in many artistic fields. How has your passion for the arts grown with you throughout the years? Do you find yourself reaching for any modes of expression in particular to connect with, or perhaps soothe, your inner child? 

NOVEMBER: I’ve always loved the richness of silence, but as I’ve aged I’ve really come to adore stillness too. Stillness has led me to find new appreciation in genres, artists and even whole mediums I couldn’t wrap my head around even 5 years ago. What I’ve also learned about myself is that my inner child is so curious and ready to observe. So throughout the years I’ve really expanded my possibilities of what I enjoy and it’s led me to a lot of different kinds of rooms. I still naturally reach for music, but I’m all the better for experiencing what others naturally reach for. 


AC: You note in your description of the album that you'd like to guide your listeners on a journey that concludes in their own "emotional catharsis." How have you maintained, and plan on persevering, self-care after creating such emotional and vulnerable work? 

NOVEMBER: This is a great question. If I’m being honest, I hadn’t really thought about it. The truth is, by the time I make the decision to include something or someone in my writing, I think it’s me acknowledging that I’m ready to talk about it and ultimately surmount it. So a lot of the emotion is still there, but not so much active for me and more so embedded in a line or instrument. This isn’t a rigid rule though. Things come up sometimes when I’ll do a song live or while I’m listening to my music, and I’ll just let them come and go and usually that means tears. In those cases, I remind myself that these songs are fragments of my experiences and feelings, and some catch the light when I look at the mosaic. 

NOVEMBER self-portrait, courtesy of the artist

AC: Now for a more light question: If you could perform Bedroom Eyes with an elaborate set design and with 100% creative direction, what would the production look like? 

NOVEMBER: I have a background in musical theatre that jumps out in the sense that I really love a spectacle. In a perfect world, the show for Bedroom Eyes would mimic the music and have this story arc with different stops for the audience. Every song is actually set in a different place. It would be cool to bring them to life, since the inside of my head isn’t exactly reality and everyone’s perception of things is their own. It would have dancers, costumes and basically be a big pop show. I’d also love for people to have enough room to dance, move or just do what they need to. 


AC: Before we end off, how do you plan on celebrating this release and what are you looking forward to as 2020 comes to a close?

NOVEMBER: Donuts, vegan food, weed and some time doing absolutely nothing. No but really, this EP has been such a long time coming and these songs have taken up so much space in my head that it almost feels like an empty nest. I am super happy it’s a tangible thing, though. I celebrated with stillness since when I’m at my busiest that can be something I only get in limited amounts. It’s only temporary though, and I’m trying my best to figure out a way to get at least one video together throughout everything. I’m really just excited for this to be out and for whomever to be able to hear it. I think it’s some of my coolest stuff and a great reintroduction to where I’m at now.  

NOVEMBER self-portrait, courtesy of the artist

Listen to Bedroom Eyes out now!

NOVEMBER

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This interview was conducted over email and has been condensed and edited for clarity

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Premiere: Magi Merlin's Walking to the Dep

 
Magi Merlin by Lawrence Fafard

Magi Merlin by Lawrence Fafard

Whenever I've moved to a new neighbourhood or started a new phase of my life, I often romanticize my new daily routines—walking to the dep, going to the grocery store etc.

Often I'll be listening to my favourite music, or sometimes I'll even dress up a bit to motivate myself to get out of the house. I guess that's what TikTok would call being the main character.

Magi Merlin's new music video for her track "Walking to the Dep" is exactly that. It's a perfect fusion of the dreamworld going on in your head, mixed with the most mundane but comforting of routines.

I spoke with her about her artistic career, inspirations on a cold November night. Tune in to our N10.as show next Thursday at 8pm EST to hear the full interview, and be sure to check out her new music video below. 

Malaika Astorga for Also Cool Mag: Thank you for being a part of Also Cool! Why don't you tell us a bit about who you are and what you do?

Magi Merlin: Hey, I'm Magi Merlin! I'm a singer-songwriter based in Montreal, Canada. I would describe my music as an alternative RNB Neo-soul, but I've recently discovered that I'm branching into different genres. So maybe like RNB fusion. Yeah, let's say that. (laughs) 

Also Cool Mag: That's so fun. So did you grow up in Montreal? 

Magi Merlin: So, funny story, not really. I grew up in Saint-Lazare outside of Montreal, so it's actually quite boring. I went to school in the West Island, and I moved here for university, which I've now dropped out of. So now I'm just here, which I like.

AC: What were you in school for initially?

Magi Merlin: I was in computational arts, which involved graphic design and website development. 

AC: What has your experience with the music/creative scene been like? 

Magi Merlin: I've been making music for my whole life, which I feel like a lot of people say. But it started with me teaching myself how to play guitar, so very indie.

Once I moved to Montreal, that's when I started to understand what kind of music I wanted to make. Also, by being in Montreal, you're just closer to the scene. It makes it so much easier to get into contact with people, and I feel like I could like to grow as a musician after moving.

AC: Did you start going to shows here? How did you end up finding the scene? 

Magi Merlin: Okay, so I actually have a clear origin story. In 2017, I had I ripped this song from a producer called WunTwo. I had taken one of his tracks and wrote on it, and put it out on SoundCloud. 

I made a music video for it, which started getting a bit of traction, and this guy found my music. He introduced me to his friend funkywhat, and that's who I make all of my music with now. We've just been working together consistently for the past three years, and I even lived on the same street as him in NDG for a year.

AC: One of the things that I enjoy about Montreal is that you can see people around really easily, and that's a huge contributing factor to the scene. You see people at shows, but you also see people when you go out for a coffee, or you run into them sitting on the sidewalk, eating a sandwich. 

That kind of casual interaction is definitely responsible for a lot of my friendships and collaborations and discovering new aspects of the city. 

Magi Merlin: Yeah, it almost prompts inspiration. It prompts your creativity. It's just like a good-ass place to be. 

Magi Merlin by Yusuf Victory

Magi Merlin by Yusuf Victory

AC: So I read that you've played quite a few shows. How do you like performing live, and how has that changed over time?

Magi Merlin: Confidence is a big part of it, getting used to knowing what I feel like and how I sound on the stage. There are older videos where I'm barely moving on stage versus more recent videos where I'm flowing a lot more; there's a lot more movement.


AC: Do you have like a favourite venue or like a favourite show that you've played?

Magi Merlin: I really liked the one I did recently for Slut Island. It was a bit weird cause everyone has masks on and all that, but I really liked Sala Rosa as a venue. 


AC: I miss that place. That kind of leads into my next question. I was watching the music video, and since I live in the Plateau I was super excited to recognize all of the locations. Is there any reason why you chose this neighbourhood in particular?

As I watched it, I found it made me think about all of my different apartments and how emblematic routines like walking to my dep would be of specific eras of my life.

Magi Merlin: I feel like in Montreal, you fall into these little routines. Deps are everywhere, but you always kind of have that one that you go to regularly. 

The song just ended up being super Montreal. It's my version of a love song. One of my love languages is gifts, but it doesn't have to be a big thing. Going to the dep and getting me like a bag of chips means a lot. I was trying to put that in a track, that homey, comforting feeling.


AC: How would you describe Montreal to someone who hasn't been here or wants to move here?

Magi Merlin: It definitely depends on the area. Right now, I live downtown, which I would describe as casual shopping, Urban Outfitters kind of vibe. But in the Plateau, it's very homey. It's very, "Going out to a cafe, chilling with your friends, reading a book, tote bags."


AC: That's so funny. When I moved to Montreal, any idea that I had that I'd ever use a purse again was gone. Tote bags from the grocery store became my go-to, and now I have way too many but also keep buying more.

So, I'm interested to talk about who inspires you. Where do you find inspiration? 

Magi Merlin: I've been super inspired by existentialism lately. I've been reading a lot of books, most recently A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. 

I'm also super into movies. I am obsessed with this app called Letterbox. I'm on it just as much as I'm on Instagram. It's like basically this bank of just every movie ever, but not to watch the movie. You can read about the movies and then you can organize them into little lists. It's great for organization, I highly recommend it. 

I watched movies a lot growing up, and I was introduced to The Go Goo Dolls because I watched Treasure Planet. More recently, I watched The Queen's Gambit on Netflix, which was bonkers. That stayed with me for a few days afterwards. I also really liked Honey Boy by Shia LaBeouf, Hereditary, and My Cousin Vinny.

AC: Do you have any like favourite poets or books that have stood out to you in the last little while?

Magi Merlin: Yeah, Nejma by Nayyirah Waheed. It's really pretty and very direct. I like poetry that doesn't complicate things too much, but it makes you think about a situation in a new way.

AC: Who have you been listening to lately? 

Magi Merlin: This past week, I've been listening to In Rainbows by Radiohead. I'm also super into Mk.Gee's "A Museum Of Contradiction," and then older artists, like The Spinners and John Coltrane.

AC: How do you want people to feel when they listen to your music?

Magi Merlin: I want people to feel cool. Often, when I'm listening to music from various artists that I enjoy, that's what I feel like. To be able to give that to somebody else would be the ultimate goal.

Watch “Walking to the Dep” by Magi Merlin below

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Kue Varo: A Chat About Art, Community, and Reclaiming Self

 

Photo credit: Ariana Molly

Kue Varo (She/Her He/Him They/Them) is the solo project of songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Kat Spreen. After years playing in bands, Kue moved from Calgary to Montreal to find her own voice, looking inwards to explore the complexities of identity and self representation - uninhibited and all uniquely hers. The title of her debut album, Daffodil 11 - coming out on January 28th! - was inspired by Kurt Vonnegut’s Slapstick, the famous novelist’s exploration of the idea of building social support networks to counter the loneliness imposed by a capitalist world.

Also Cool got to chat with Kue about her sensitivity to color and light, her love of art, and her collaboration with Ariana Molly on the sultry music video for “Just Don’t Lie” - the first single off Daffodil 11.

Maya for Also Cool: Kue Varo - what does the name signify? How did this musical project come to be?

KV: Kue Varo is a gender ambiguous name which was on my radar because I perform in drag sometimes. I just wanted [a name] that wasn't super gendered. Kue is actually from Star Trek - the character Q - but I spell it with a “K” because my given name starts with it. I tried to keep that part uniform. I went by a different name in a project before this one, so I wanted a smooth transition - and for my fanbase to find me if they wanted to.

Varo is the last name of my favorite surrealist painter, so I borrowed from her name - Remedios Varo. She's had a really huge impact on me. I found her paintings one day - I just decided when I was like 12 or something that I needed a favorite painter - it was just really important to me.

I needed to know - who paints the things I really connect with? So I spent probably two weeks just Googling - going to online galleries all over the world and searching for someone who paints the way I like it. And I ended up finding one of Varo's paintings. I just instantly was like, "This is exactly what I love. This is what I would paint if I were a painter." So my love of her work still stands today. She had enough of an impact that I wanted to take on some of that - the energy that surrounds her art.



AC: Do you think that your painting reflects that as well?

Color is really, really important to me. I'm very sensitive to light in general - more so than most people. It can cause a lot of headaches, unfortunately, but because of it I can tell subtle differences in color really well. So in that respect, yes - I think we both share a love of rich, intense colors. I'm not a visual artist by trade, I do music. Painting is very much therapeutic for me - I don't have mad skills - I just love to do it.

I've been playing music [in front of other people] for about a decade. As a 20 year old I played in bands in my hometown and in a city just outside of Calgary. It was always with a bunch of guys - no shade to that - but I definitely let it stifle my creative voice in a lot of ways.

After years of dedicating myself to that project, I decided, along with a move to Montreal, that I wanted to find my own voice again, and really take the song writing part to heart. That's why I started playing music [in the first place]. When I was a kid, I learned piano not because I wanted to play piano, but because I wanted to write songs.

It was a huge missing piece and was making me really sad in ways that I didn't even realize. That's why this project exists. It's me reclaiming myself - as a voice and as a conduit to the creative forces that be. I don't take full credit for everything I write.

When things flow out of you, you're sort of taking from the collective conscious and you just get to be the translator, which is where your unique voice comes in.



AC: How did joining the Montreal DIY scene been for you creatively? In terms of possibilities for collaboration or any new influences you had during this time?

KV: The first bit was really hard because I didn't have any contacts when I first moved here. It was obviously a huge leap and didn't happen really quickly, but with the creation of this album I ended up meeting some other people who also came from Calgary. [One of them] happened to be working in a studio - Rena Kozak, the producer of the album. I hadn't worked with a female producer before, so I was really excited to collaborate with someone who wasn't a guy - for reasons like I mentioned before. I play music with a bunch of guys still, and I love them, but it's really nice just to have somebody else around. She really helped me get the most out of what I was doing.

Now I share a studio space, like a co-op studio space, with some people who run a label called Baby Horse Records. They're all friends of mine, they're all musicians, and they're all super talented.

I've been welcomed by two different groups and I'm very much in love with both of them - I'm very lucky. This is a really good time to ask me that question because I feel very full and accepted - and lucky.





AC: I've been like rethinking my relationships with people lately and have been really mindful and appreciative of the support and sense of community I feel.

I heard that the title of your album Daffodil 11 is from Vonnegut's Slapstick - which also ties into the whole idea of community building. Was that on your mind when you were writing the songs?

KV: Slapstick is my favorite book and Vonnegut is my favorite author. I've read almost all of his works and I'm trying to collect the last few books. Yeah, Slapstick was heavy on my mind. I actually have a tattoo that's also in part because of [that book]. It was the perfect thing for me to read when I started letting the voices of adulthood come in and say, "There needs to be a good outcome for a good deed to mean anything."

The idea of doing something fully and authentically, without attachment to the outcome - just because it's the decent human thing to do - really speaks to me. That was really heavy on my heart when I was making the album and is still. Hopefully it will be forever because I think it's an important virtue.




AC: You mentioned that you sometimes perform in drag and that you are gender fluid. Can you talk about expressing your identity as an artist - do your drag performances ever reflect your day-to-day experience?

KV: I flip-flop around, it so depends on how I feel when I wake up in the morning. Clothes are very important to me because they're me expressing myself and how I feel every day. I'm sure that I'm also really vain. I'm sure that's a thing too, but I like to think it's because I'm just an expressive person. So I'll just love myself - I'll keep that lie (laughs) .

I definitely have boy days and girl days and I think it's pretty obvious to anyone who's around me a lot - because my whole demeanor changes a little bit.

I like Carl Jung a lot because he also always speaks of having two sides to himself - the scientist and the spiritualist. There's always this duality within him and I've always felt that duality within myself. I grew up in a pretty religious setting that had some serious, hardcore gender roles imposed. So luckily my family is really cool and loving, but there's still a lot of me decluttering all those experiences.

I definitely take advantage of that in art because. I mean the best part about - well not the best part, but the best superficial part, I suppose - about being an artist is that you get to play dress-up and nobody really cares. Which, in Montreal, is not as big of a deal because people are very expressive with the way they dress anyway.

Coming from a super small, super conservative, really just prairie town Alberta, the whole idea of playing dress-up is a much bigger deal. I guess the duality is an everyday experience - and that's totally normal. In terms of dressing up in drag, it's only for performances, as like with who you are as an artist.





AC: You also introduced yourself as being neurodivergent - how do you think being on the spectrum enriches your experience and your expression of it? You said earlier that you're sensitive to light and see differences in colors very well. Musically, do you think there's also an expression of that?

KV: I think, because it's a processing difference, it would have to have some influence on how I'm going to output what I've processed. Also socially, I think. I'm quite good at pretending to be good at socializing now.

It's been 20-some years - it's been a long time and I didn't know what was up. I was a really late diagnosis. Having the ability to reframe my entire life with things that made sense was really awesome. Sensorily, being a musician can sometimes be a little tough. I have to know when my limits are coming because otherwise it's like, "time to go into a dark room for a while", but it must serve me in some way artistically. At least being a slightly different perspective is valuable. I think it would be impossible for literally how I experience the whole world not to change how I make art about it.




AC: The video that you made with Ariana is so amazing - what is the story behind the song "Just Don't Lie"?

KV: I have residual effects of being a super self-righteous person. In my youth I was really well-intentioned, but my intensity factor wase a bit much for a lot of people. This is also part of being on the spectrum - lying is typically really, really difficult to comprehend. I can't speak for everyone, but hearing from other people that I know are on the spectrum, lying [takes time to understand].

It's taken me until now to realize that small lies are okay and everybody does them. So the song is me poking fun at myself, my younger self, for being so adamant with what I expected from other people. That's why I say, "Forgive how intense I am, because I want it to be right."



AC: What about the video itself?

KV: It was a lot of fun to make. Ariana came up with pretty much all of it. I basically told her to just go crazy. I wanted to do something fun and she loved the song, so I just gave her free reign . All of it had themes that we both felt matched the song, so a lot of things happening and then happening in reverse. A lot of symbolism - like water and fire. We're both pretty into the subliminal power of symbolism. That's how it came to be - it's largely her. So I won't take credit.



AC: And the aesthetic? It's sultry, romantic - was that something you were going for initially?

KV: Yeah, that's part of my artist female persona. I describe it as my artist male persona being a cross between a 1960's bad-ass beat poet and a grungy nineties guy. And then my female persona is more of a sixties to seventies pop goddess, dream-girl type.



Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube.

Written by Kue Varo (Katrina Spreen)
Produced, Recorded, Mixed by Rena Kozak
Bass: Rena Kozak
Drums: Chris Dadge
Synth: Scott Munro
Lead Guitar: Kue Varo
Rhythm Guitar: Matthew Spreen
Vocals: Kue Varo
Video: Ariana Molly


January 28th is the official album release day - it has taken almost two years!


Follow Kue Varo on Instagram

You can find the first single, "Just Don't Lie" on Spotify and everywhere else.

 

Premiere: St John's Property and Illustrator Isha Watson Team Up to Release "The Isolator"

 

“The Isolator” cover art by Isha Watson

There is nothing quite like a collaboration between pals, no? This is certainly the case for the uber-talented friend group of St John’s-based new-wave band Property and illustrator and animator Isha Watson. Today, the quad release “The Isolator,” an allegorical song originally about the mundane observation of tourists in St John’s, that has since taken on a new meaning in the wake of COVID-19 and under Watson’s artistic direction in the form of a gorgeous music video. Off their upcoming EP Think Electric!, Property’s single offers an honest punk undertone in both sound and intention with punchy danceability. When coupled with Watson’s pastel-laden video, “The Isolator” becomes a comforting soundtrack to get you through yet another day of pondering the meaning of life in quarantine. Check out our interview with Property and Watson below to hear their thoughts on life in St John’s, creating together, and abolishing the myth of productivity.

Zoë Argiropulos-Hunter for Also Cool: Hey Property & Isha Watson! Congrats on the release of "The Isolator" and it's accompanying music video. To start, can you tell our readers about your projects and yourselves? 

 

Isha: I am an illustrator based in St. John’s, originally from Perth, Australia. I moved to Newfoundland three years ago and fell in love with the culture and surroundings. I made it my intention to immigrate permanently. Originally a graphic illustrator, I challenged myself to take the next step by making my illustrations come to life. I’ve been animating pretty consistently ever since.  

Property: Hi! We are a band based in St. John's. Our names are Sarah (guitar/vocals), Jack (guitar), and Liam (bass). We all grew up here and live here in a house downtown. We started this band in 2016 and have been playing in St John’s and touring Eastern Canada ever since. We play guitar driven music with a drum machine, and more recently with our friend Jacob live on drums. 

 

Also Cool: For Property: How did "The Isolator" come together in terms of production? Were there any particular scenarios or influences that had an impact on the sound and feel of the final product? 

 

Property: The song was written and arranged pretty much exactly a year ago this month. We recorded it half with our friend Jake Nicoll and half at home during the first month of quarantine. It’s a reflection on living in St. John’s for a long time and working a service job that interacts with the tourism industry. It’s like this funny thing where people come here because they saw tourism ads on TV; so, when they get here they expect to see that untouched and “authentic” image of Newfoundland that they are sold. It’s funny to be on the other side of that sometimes. In the song “The Isolator,” is a sort of tongue-in-cheek euphemism for the island. But it totally takes on a new meaning in Isha’s video. 

 

AC: For Property and Isha: How did you work together to conceptualize the video? I'm interested in the characters and their repetitive actions of personal business; was any of that drawn from your own experiences in insolation, or is it rather a cultural artifact of the times we are in generally?   

 

Property: Isha made the animation and conceptualized it pretty independently! After the initial month of lockdown in Newfoundland (which we spent together in our house watching movies every night..) we were allowed to join “bubbles” with another household, which was Isha’s household where a handful of friends live. The animations are definitely reflective of that period of time, and the characters in the animation are us and friends doing the sort of things that we did, and do, to pass the time. So in this way, the song is kind of given a new meaning with the video and the context of the times. It can become a sort of reflection on the past (pre-pandemic) and then a reckoning with the present: being unemployed and in quarantine and engaging in monotonous activities.

Isha: While the song "The Isolator" was written a year ago, I began on the animation aspect of the music video in the midst of COVID-19. The inspiration for the video was purely built on the repetitive nature of day to day life during the pandemic. Overcome with boredom the majority of the time, projects like playing video games, knitting and nail filing (as referenced in the music video) were examples of what my friends and I did to fill the time. Only being able to see eachother inevitably resulted in some artistic collaboration. 

Property (photo provided by the band)

AC: On that note, the theme of self-care, in many forms, is really apparent in the video! I'm curious to know how both of you have been balancing that with your respective work (music and visual art) when there is so much pressure to create in the supposed "free time" offered by the pandemic? Which we all know is a sham, but still… It's sometimes hard not to compare ourselves with others.  

Isha: Before the pandemic, I always had an issue with being productive on my time off. I had to be doing something to avoid feeling aimless. I live in a house with six other people, so there were countless activities happening all the time which I incorporated into the video. Every morning I had a routine: I’d wake at 7:30am, shower, dress, drink a lot of coffee and sit at my desk for eight hours working on my animation. Treating the video like a job and pretending I was going to work helped me feel better when things felt pointless. I actually asked Property if I could make the music video for them, and from there the collaboration came together pretty seamlessly.  

Property: We’re all working in service or are in online school (or both) at the moment, so things are a little different than they were during lockdown. But over quarantine and the summer, there was this sort of haunting feeling that we should be making a bunch of new music, and finishing our almost completed EP. But we were all grieving the loss of tours and shows and festivals that we had booked for the spring summer (as well as the state of the world), and it sort of felt like there was no rush to make any new music or release anything.

To stay motivated, at the beginning of the summer we set some pretty relaxed goals about a 2020 release for our new music/videos, and we’ve been adhering to that pretty well, which feels pretty good. Now that music stuff is starting to happen again in new and innovative ways, we think 2021 will bring a fresh start and maybe (hopefully!) a proliferation of new releases and bands from friends in our beloved St John’s scene and across the country. 

 AC: What advice would both of you give to fellow artists hoping to work with each other on a multi-disciplinary collaboration while adhering to COVID-19 protocols?

Property: Since shows are few and far between, and harder to pull off with adhering to protocols, doing collaborative media work has definitely been a focus for us the past while, mostly music videos and live videos. Best advice would be to run with everyone’s ideas and trust your collaborators to do their thing! Try out new mediums and make stuff you wouldn’t usually make!

Isha: It’s obviously a really weird and hard time to release any sort of music or art knowing that opportunities to show and exhibit your work are going to be inherently different. However, it’s been nice to have more time to work on my own stuff and get better at things I was neglecting before the pandemic. Sarah has a project with Amery Sandford called “I Don’t Do Comics” that is a cool platform to make art, even if you’re not an artist, during the pandemic.

 

AC: Before we let you go, are there any upcoming projects that either of you are working on that you're excited about and would like to share? 

Isha: I just finished a print fair for the local music festival Lawnya Vawnya, and I’m selling some new prints at the Top Floor Art Store in St. John’s. A lot of my inspiration comes from my friends, and the supportive arts scene we all exist in. 

Property: We’re releasing our EP called Think Electric! by the end of 2020 (we don’t have an exact date set yet), and we just released the first music video from that EP last month that we’re super excited about. Thanks so much, Also Coo!

Watch “The Isolator” below

Property
Instagram | Website | Bandcamp

Isha Watson

This interview was conducted over email and has been condensed and edited for clarity

 

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Playfulness Has No Age Limit: Rudy Shares New Track "Makeup"

 

Rudy (left to right: Ruby Izatt & Rowan W-S)

Rudy is the musical brainchild of long-time pals Ruby Izatt and Rowan W-S. The project began as “an extended songwriting challenge” between the pair once they found themselves on the opposite coasts of Canada (when Ruby returned to the band’s hometown of Vancouver to go to university), and still itching to create together. Now reunited in Montreal, the duo have been hard at work: transforming their long-distance demos into master tracks, using both digital and analog techniques in their basement home-studio.

Today, Rudy premieres their first single of the year: “Makeup,” which the band says “finds inspiration in clip-on earrings, clowns and sneakers and intends to bring a bit of magic to everyday life where dancing alone in your bedroom is a whole event.”

Also Cool had the chance to catch the band before their release, and chat about how they revived this track “off the cutting-room floor,” and find inspiration in the sentiment of family heirlooms and throwback cartoons.

Photo provided by Rudy

Zoë Argiropulos-Hunter for Also Cool: Hey Rudy! Congratulations on the release of "Makeup!" To start, can you tell our readers a little bit about yourselves and your musical project? 

 

Rudy: Hi Also Cool! This is so exciting for us! We are Rowan and Ruby (a Cancer and Leo, respectively), and we started writing songs together to keep in touch after Ruby left Montreal to finish her studies in Vancouver. Rowan is part of Winona Forever, and Ruby first learned how to play bass while touring from Vancouver to Montreal with the band. 

Also Cool: You two have recently reunited after being a long-distance band on the opposite coasts of Canada. How has being in the same city impacted your project, and the creative process of writing/producing "Makeup" by extension?

 

Rudy: Being able to talk and experiment in person has been huge for us. Though we enjoyed the surprise of listening to new demos while taking public transit to school/work and writing alone in the evenings while we were on opposite coasts, everything goes so much faster when there’s someone offering feedback right away. Plus, being in the same room means we can track live, which sounds more cohesive and lively than tracking each instrument separately. 

“Makeup” had gone through so many revisions while we were sending the track back and forth that it got to be a bit of a hot mess. Finally listening to it together for the first time was when we re-discovered that the song wasn’t complete trash and we were motivated to finish it.

Photo provided by Rudy

AC: The song features so many experimental embellishments, from sound-effects, voice-overs from different "characters," and sounds that remind me of children's toys. Where did you draw inspiration from for these elements, and how did you get them to work together to build this track? 

 

Rudy: Since the song is about being in one room, we wanted to build a sonic world that felt inviting and imaginative. We have a TV/VCR player in the studio that's usually playing some movie or old cartoons while we’re working, which we often look to for reference or inspiration. We were listening to Arthur and King Princess a lot at the time, who both employ sound effects to create the world where their music resides.

When we finished the bed track for “Makeup,” Rowan was experimenting and played some slide guitar over the pickups at the end of the track. We thought sounded like twinkling stars, and worked backwards [by filling] in the gaps with experimental sounds and voiceovers.

AC: Of course, the lyrics talk about the idea of doing makeup/dressing-up just for yourself to jazz up having to stay inside during quarantine. Were there any particular looks that you put together that really struck you? What are some of your style go-tos, in terms of makeup and accessories, and why? 

 

Rudy (Ruby): I am definitely someone who will slap on two discordant eye makeup looks right before hopping in the shower. Honestly, the lyrics to “Makeup” were just talking about my life pre-quarantine…

When my grandfather died last year, I received his leather fanny pack and a few pieces of his late wife’s glass bead necklaces which I revere and I think kinda look sick together? I gravitate towards anything with bright colours, or an interesting story. 

AC: Before we let you go, are there any upcoming projects from you that we should look out for? What are your plans as artists in the near future?

Rudy: We have so many songs we are working on at the moment! We also have a little lyric video for “Makeup” that we are going to put out shortly.

Listen to “Makeup” out now

Keep up with Rudy

Instagram | Spotify | Bandcamp

 

Premiere: Róisin Marie Eats Her Heart Out in Her Video For "Like That"

 

Róisin Marie by Christopher Walsh

Meet Róisin Marie, a New York-based R&B newcomer who, at only 21 years old, has the voice and vision of a seasoned ballad composer. Today, Róisin shares her latest track “Like That,” with an accompanying video directed and edited by the artist herself. We had the chance to catch up with Róisin, and chat about how “Like That” transformed from a diary entry into a fully realized production that captures both the vulnerability of heartbreak and the allure of being alone. Read our interview with Róisin Marie below.

Zoë Argiropulos-Hunter for Also Cool: Hey Róisin! Thank you so much for chatting with me! To start things off, tell me about yourself and your musical background.

Róisin Marie: Hi! Thank you for having me. I am 21 years old, and from right outside New York City. Music has always been a huge part of my family, and growing up I was lucky enough to see many Broadway shows and concerts in the city. I was a theatre kid who loved to write poetry, and started writing my own music in college. 

Also Cool: What is your creative process like as a musician? Do you take inspiration from any influences? 

Róisin Marie: I work a 9-5 right now, so the biggest thing I am learning to work through is being able to clock back into music and find myself in my creative space after a long day at work. I have found that writing poetry, or journal entries as they come to me, and having a catalog of this to pull from, really helps me get my thoughts out when I do sit down to create. I am really inspired by the people I get to work with. They model consistency, accountability, and honesty. I think surrounding myself with them has made me both a better creative and a better human. 

AC: Congratulations on the release of “Like That!” Can you tell me about the evolution of this track and what it was like collaborating with RocNation signee Anwar Sawyer on its production? 

Róisin Marie: Thank you so much. This track really has evolved! It started as a ballad that Anwar sent me. I wrote to it, [and it became a] completely different song. Then like five months later, I was journaling about a relationship I wish I had explored with someone. I pulled up the ballad and started singing what I was writing until it felt right. It was my “idea of the day.” I played it when I got to Anwar’s studio […] And it was just a moment that we both felt. It all fell together after that. Anwar and I have been working with each other for about a year now. He is also my manager and best friend. Being able to create together is such a blessing.  

Róisin Marie by Christopher Walsh

AC: “Like That” is being released with an accompanying music video, of which we’re super into. I’m curious to know: What inspired your artistic vision for the video, and how did the project come together to compliment the song’s narrative? 

Róisin Marie: It is! I am so happy you like it. The artistic vision was inspired by an incredible artist, Lee Price. Her series “Women and Food” shows women in vulnerable and intimate moments with food as a crutch, as a drug, as nourishment, etc. This just felt right to me. The song is about a heartbreak that I didn’t even get to properly feel; I am mourning a “what if.” I wanted to show myself in this intimate setting binge eating my feelings. I also wanted to add in the sexual elements of licking and eating food off of my fingers to further the feeling of loneliness, but in a somewhat awkward and uncomfortable way. 

AC: Branching off of that, how do you feel about working as an artist under the pressures of COVID-19 and quarantine, especially in NYC? How are you taking care of yourself and your craft? 

Róisin Marie: Part of me feels sad, but part of me is also super grateful for the time it has given me to get to know myself better. I haven’t gotten to perform and I don’t know when I will -that makes me sad. But in the time that I wasn’t working, I had a taste of being an artist and musician full time, and that was really nice and motivating. I am taking care of myself by being patient, going outside, calling friends, sleeping, eating, and channeling my emotions into my art. I hold myself accountable to write every single day, and I set intentions that align with my vision for the future. 

AC: Finally, we hear you’re working on your debut full-length project, which is super exciting! What has this process been like so far, and what can we expect in the coming months? 

Róisin Marie: I am! It’s been a lot of digging. I have to be super honest and real with myself and with who I am creating with. This writing and creative process over the last six months or so has really required me to strip away a lot of things I thought were defining me. I have been coming into my own skin and I think this process is definitely reflected in my writing. I can’t wait to share and see what comes of all of it. 

Roísin Marie by Anwar Sawyer

Watch Róisin Marie’s video for “Like That” below

Credits

Director: Róisin Marie

Producer: Anwar Sawyer

Director of Photography: Andrew Greene

Editor: Róisin Marie

Colourist: Kevin Ratigan

Keep up with Róisin Marie

Instagram | Spotify | Apple Music

Photography by Christopher Walsh

Instagram

 

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Introducing Messkina: The Montreal DJ Setting Herself Apart With Unapologetic Self-Acceptance

 

Messkina by Victoria Gravel

Picture yourself on a hot and unfamiliar beach, dancing to your escape from a busy routine towards an enchanting adventure. This scene describes DJ Messkina’s perfect setting to have her music pumping. 

After only a year of taking up DJing, the 21-year-old Montreal-based performer of Cameroon and Congolese descent has played in Montreal’s most popular clubs, such as Apt.200, SuWu, Datcha, Le Salon Daomé and Ti-Agrikol, to name a few. She’s even produced mixes for Moonshine and the major Brooklyn-based art collective Papi Juice, which celebrates the lives of the LGBTQ+ community.

Messkina’s unapologetic self-acceptance is what led to her DJ alias Messkina. It is the playful combination between her first name, “messy,” and the Arabic word miskeena for “unfortunate”  — a moniker she says echoes her character. 

Set apart by her contagious confidence and bold charm, Messkina’s presence behind the DJ booth encourages you to be yourself and dance to her carefully-selected house tracks influenced by the sounds of afro-fusion. 

Messkina by Victoria Gravel

Dressed in a cropped pink velour jacket coupled with matching sparkly velour flared pants, Messkina met up with me in her Saint-Henri apartment to discuss her unusual journey as an emerging talent, and her newest mix “Philantropute.”

“I started producing mixes at a really dark period in my life,” says Messkina. “It was right when I dropped out of college and got temporarily fired from the strip club where I was dancing,” she says before she pauses briefly. 

“Who knew you could get fired from a strip club?” she laughs.

Messkina by Victoria Gravel

The artist shares dealing with social anxiety starting at an early age, which kept her from staying motivated and performing academically. 

“Going to school was very demanding for me, and I smoked a lot of weed to get by,” she explains.

It was at this moment that she decided to pursue something new. 

It was shortly after that she responded to a call-out on social media looking for DJs. This led to her very first gig which was at the Mme Lee nightclub in Montreal’s Latin Quarter.

Messkina by Victoria Gravel

“It was packed. I was shaking because I was so nervous, but I did it.” she says.

Leaving school and her job as a sex worker ended up being a blessing in disguise as it pushed her to get back in touch with her creative side, and discover making music as a new-found passion.

Messkina quickly found her distinctive and diverse sound; which pulls together melancholic melodies, hip-hop, African drums and house music. 

“I make music that makes you want to dance. Not to bang your head to, but just vibe to the rhythm,” says the DJ. “Although, I still consider myself new to the scene, and I still have a long road ahead of me in terms of experimentation,” she says. 

Messkina by Victoria Gravel

Social distancing and other public health restrictions amid the COVID-19 pandemic have inherently changed the way DJs perform. At the beginning of the lockdown, Messkina tried live-streaming her sets and felt disappointed by the lack of connection with her audience.  

“I don’t like Zoom parties. It’s boring to me,” she says. “It’s not the same without an audience, as you don’t really know how it sounds and you miss out on instant feedback.”

“It was really nice to be able to perform again in person when bars were reopened. People were tired of being inside and wanted to go to the club. Although dancing was prohibited, they seemed to just enjoy their time out and socializing.”

Messkina by Victoria Gravel

Messkina shares that despite the mental toll the lockdown has had on her, she’s used her free time to think about the style and aesthetics she wishes to pursue in her musical career.

“I have broadened my horizons musically and discovered several musical genres that I wouldn't necessarily have appreciated a few months ago,” she explains. 

Her newest mix, “Philantropute,” is quite different from her previous mixes, featuring a higher-energy and dazzling tempo.

“It is more upbeat, hectic, and chaotic. It represents where I am mentally at the moment,” says Messkina.

Messkina by Victoria Gravel

Listen to Messkina’s latest mix “Philantropute” out now

Keep up with Messkina

Instagram | Twitter | Soundcloud

Written by Stéphanie Ricci

Stéphanie Ricci is a Montreal-based freelance multimedia journalist. Currently completing a journalism major coupled with a sociology minor at Concordia University, she is passionate about storytelling in all forms, but is particularly invested investigative work, writing about arts and culture, and creating original content.

Twitter

Photo Credits

Photo: @victoriagravel

Hair: @iceboxhair

Nails: @jazzzynailz

MUA: @crazycattie_makeup

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A Liminal Conversation with Swaya

 

Photo credit: Ilana Jade Roth

A couple of weeks ago I had the chance to interview my friend Sophie, otherwise known as Swaya, on her way home from Seltzer Sounds in Brooklyn, where she’s currently working as an audio and mixing engineer. One of the most devoted and multi-talented humans I know, in the past few years Sophie has made waves DJing in Montreal, hosting CKUT’s Venus Radio, engineering and mixing staple Boston rapper Michael Christmas’s upcoming album, and producing an incredibly diverse catalogue of music.

Her output ranges from Baile Funk-influenced edits to ear-soothing ambient tracks, from crying-at-the-club dance mixes to experimental, genre-defying DIY pieces. Swaya released the EP “23” in 2019, a visceral, fast-paced 4-track project accompanied by one of the best merch drops in recent memory. This year she’s put out another collaborative EP with DJ Pacifier titled “Such Relaxation,” and a 2-track project with Valeda called “I looked for you in the water but saw myself.” Most recently, she produced NYC rapper Babyxsosa’s ethereal new single, “WYA/Difference Between.”

Listen to WYA / Difference Between on Spotify. Babyxsosa · Song · 2020.


Given all of these achievements, I am that much more grateful to Sophie for agreeing to a different type of interview. Although we touched on her process and mindset when she made, “23,” this interview is not guided by any completed work, nor is it in service of any type of project roll-out.

Beyond being an extremely talented and hard-working artist, Sophie is, and has been for all the years that I’ve known her, an exceptionally humble, reflective, and deep-thinking person. She is someone who’s been in a fascinating variety of creative and organizing spaces, and she’s someone who I personally am always learning from. Here, she’s been generous enough to publicize some of her insights, experiences, and struggles with creativity, artist identity, individualism, engineering, and life in the music industry; all from the candid and relatable space of pandemic uncertainty.

Interview below has been condensed and edited for clarity.


Tal from Also Cool: I know you’ve been doing a lot of engineering and mixing the past couple of years, and you’re personally between projects right now. How do you feel like engineering professionally has affected the way you hear your old music?

Swaya: Listening to my old music, I’ll have moments when I think ‘yea this is cool,’ but I feel like my parameters and my assessment of what’s good are always changing over time, so I’ll be inspired by something new, then my old shit might sound kind of weak. It’s also happened to me consistently since I started engineering and being around people in the studio that I’ll have moments where I think my music is too weird or too dissonant or too busy, which is not necessarily something that I actually believe; it’s just a feeling I’ll have for a sense of time. I don’t have any regrets about making that music though. I’m proud of it, I just don’t feel that attached to it at the current moment.


Tal: How distinct do you feel your mindset as an artist is versus your mindset as an engineer? 

Swaya: Well I think in engineering you’re obviously working for someone else. As an engineer, I show up and I’m trying to listen to the artist and see the track kind of unfold. I want to let things happen and be as little in the way as possible and also as anticipatory as possible, so I can get the right sound in the moment. 

When it’s just me, it depends on the context. Recently I’ve been feeling like my process isn’t always happening in the flow of the moment. It’s something I’m still figuring out. For a while I was trying to be disciplined and focused about it and make at least one beat every day, but I’ve stopped that. I’m trying to make music more often now, but not from such a disciplined mindset. 



Tal: What did you feel was holding you back when you were trying to make a beat a day? Why are you not into that now?

Swaya: I’m too exhausted right now. Like I literally can’t. I feel like I can’t force it. I made beats yesterday because I smoked some weed, that’s what helped me do it. I’ve been having conversations with people recently about consciously smoking weed to reduce anxiety around making music. Like doing it thoughtfully. It reminds me of when I used to be getting ready for bed and I would take a long time washing my face or painting my nails before bed. Doing these activities that are caring for yourself before you sleep, then, when it’s time to sleep, you feel able to relax. I’m trying to take a moment to hesitate and actually feel like I want to be creative before I make music. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about hesitation, not diving into things or pushing through. With the pandemic and being alone for so long, I’ve realized how negatively just diving into shit impacts me. When I was mixing that album for Michael [Christmas], I had to stop myself because I would just lose time doing shit that wasn’t doing anything.


Tal: Hesitation is a really interesting way to frame a process. When you talk about self-care before going to bed, it makes me think of ritual. The idea of practicing something that is taking you into a new state.

Swaya: Yea! I think because I’m “in the industry” in this specific way, it can be hard to have this ritualistic way of making music. When you’re so in it, as a job, as something you do, as part of your identity, like a career, it can really take the ritual out of it, you know. 


Tal: Yea there’s something that feels maybe paradoxical about working a career in art. On one hand, art is self-expression and it’s felt and personal, but then art also exists as a career path and an industry. What has your experience been like trying to navigate the tension of working in industry as an engineer and also trying to find a way to still make your art and still express yourself?

Swaya: Well, there were already aspects of my personality that made me feel like I would be a good engineer. I can be overly empathetic and I can prioritize other people’s needs, so I'm a good person to have working on your behalf, you know? So knowing that about myself made me think I’d be good as an engineer, but it also makes my identity as an artist feel a little shaky sometimes. I’m constantly questioning my work, and it can be easily shaken up by my surroundings. When I was in the studio last year, I felt like I wasn’t really that understood. It improved my abilities obviously, like how to mix stuff, sound design, having access to resources and knowledge, but it did make me question what ‘my thing’ was. 


Tal: It’s interesting to hear you say that. It sounds like your empathy and collaborative spirit, which are qualities that make you a good engineer, kind of got into tension with this idea of having ‘your thing’ as an artist. It makes me wonder, to what degree is being an artist individualistic? Does each artist need to have their own ‘thing’ in an individual, possessive kind of way?

Swaya: Exactly, and that’s my point. I’m a very community based person. When I was in Montreal, I had a community, and I had music that I understood as being part of me and also part of a broader scene. Going into a space without that shook my foundation in some ways. The impulse when you lose that community is to fall back on the individual, and wonder what’s my identity as an artist? I don’t know if that’s really necessary.

Tal: It’s so late capitalism to suffer from lack of collective care and then put that blame all on yourself, right? Isn’t that the capitalist condition? 

Swaya: Exactly!

Tal: Do you think differently about your solo releases than you do the collaborative work you’ve put out?

Swaya: It all feels part of the same thread. The 23 EP for me was different because it was a lot of dance music, as opposed to the more weird, experimental hybrid shit I was doing before. I really made that whole album alone in my basement in Boston. Being alone made me think of nightclub spaces because I was reflecting on my time in Montreal. I spent so much time there, and it was so formative for me. Then, because I was back at my parents’ house, which was such a drastic shift, I think I felt a profound absence on a lot of levels.

In terms of my life and friends, but also in terms of the identity and sense of self that I’d developed and grown into over time. I find that my sense of self is very bound up in my relationships with other people, so moving actually made it really hard to feel that self. That’s not so much what I was thinking about when I made 23, but that’s what I was going through while I was making it. 

Tal: So how has your relationship to creativity and making music changed during coronavirus and the social uprising we’re seeing around the US?

Swaya: I will say for me, honestly, the pandemic has been an important time to evaluate my ego, to evaluate what I think I deserve, and what I actually contribute. Then, when the George Floyd protests started, for me, making music was not a priority at all. I’m still navigating what it means to bring my abolitionist ideas and politics into my work as a musician, but my immediate idea was that that space was less important than what’s going on in the street. That’s where my attention went, that’s why I got into doing the mutual aid work.

Tal: Right, so where are you at with bringing your politics into your artistry? Or how are you thinking about that question?

Swaya: I’m thinking about it more on the community scene level. There are huge problems with the industry, which isn’t sustainable or profitable for anyone. The people who are able to work the way I do often get their start because they have class privilege, access to resources, that sort of stuff. I mean, there are lots of questions I have for myself about what it means to be working with rappers, what it means to be a white person in this space. And I think part of why I talk about abolition is that I’m not really looking for band-aid or charitable solutions, I’m looking for real shifts, you know? 

Tal: As someone who’s working as an engineer in these industry spaces and has experience as an artist too, what are some things you’ve learned or experienced about the music industry that you think people outside maybe don’t know about or don’t think about?

Swaya: Well, the industry is so unprofessional. I just didn’t know that you can be the biggest producer, the biggest engineer, whatever, and you still might not get paid. You know what I mean? It could be a project with a huge artist. There’s no protection built in. I think what we’re learning -- and why I appreciate bandcamp, the electronic scene, and the people around me -- is that a lot of the positions we have in the industry exist to put money that comes from your music into other people’s pockets.

Because I’m just an engineer and I mostly function in underground scenes, I’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg. But, in my experience working with other people and seeing other people I know work with labels and booking agents and that sort of stuff, honestly, DIY and community-based work can often be more transparent and actually help you make more money.

Back when I was still DJing, there were big events with big headliners that I did where I got paid less than I did DJing like an underground rave. It was pretty surprising to be paid less to perform at big events run by organizations with resources, opening for big headliners, than I was for playing my friends’ rave at an underground space like Cyberia. I think people don't realize that big corporations and nonprofits pay so little like that.

Tal: Something we’ve talked about in the past that I wanted to ask about here is social media use and social media brand for an artist. As someone who’s not aggressively marketing yourself through social media, have you felt like that’s affected your experience in the studio or other professional spaces outside of Montreal?

Swaya: Yea definitely. I find it frustrating that whenever I show any hesitance or disdain for using social media to brand myself, people take that as me not wanting to be a serious artist. 

Tal: Can you expand on that? Why do you make that choice for yourself, and how have people perceived it?

Swaya: With all the changes I’ve gone through, I haven’t felt the energy or desire to promote myself in that way. That may change, but in the context of the studio, my resounding feeling has been that people take it like being lowkey on social media or not aggressively promoting yourself means that you’re not serious about music, which is really frustrating. I’ve sometimes felt like I was less respected than other people in the room because I wasn’t doing quite the same thing. I don’t have anything against social media, I really think that it’s a great tool. I just wish sometimes that people would do more to interpret what’s actually going on in the room in the moment. My issue is really with the disrespect. 

When artists who I haven’t met yet hit me up, the way I originally meet them is through their social media, but what I’ve learned is that that doesn’t correlate to them as an artist, or how they treat you. It can be interesting: someone who seems like a random person who isn’t doing too much can be a super talented artist. Also, what goes on in the studio can be really removed from what goes on in social media; there are all kinds of moments and things that happen in the process of making the music that no one is ever going to see. All these people who are involved that no one else is gonna know were involved. There are all kinds of people who have worked with big artists, or are integral to the music scene that stay out of sight.

Tal: Like engineers and songwriters?

Swaya: Yea, but also homies. I feel like people can come up by being in the spaces and knowing people, or they can come up on social media. And there are differences.

Tal: Talking about all the people behind the scenes who go uncredited, the illusions of how an artist comes up alone, and hearing about all the people who are actually involved in that, it does seem to reinforce this idea that music-making is inevitably social and communal, even if that can be masked.

Swaya: Hell yea. Definitely, I agree. And there are lots of people who come up with each other and credit each other, and there are also lots of people who are intimately involved in the process who don’t necessarily want to be in the limelight. These things can exist at once.

Tal: What are some ideas or conversations you’ve been a part of that give you hope or optimism for life in the music industry?

Swaya: I’m still searching for answers on a lot of fronts. But, for example, we were in the studio the other day talking about different label deals; there was an artist in there who had some interest from people trying to sign her, and Tony [Seltzer] and I were talking about how when you have new artists who are starting to build a name for themselves, it’s so important to give them guidance, to give them a sense of what their options are. Because the industry won’t give them that. The ability to provide guidance and knowledge and resources is really important and useful.

On the other side of things, one thing that makes me feel hope is Bandcamp. It’s not anything radical at this point, but it’s nice seeing people I know deciding they don’t need a label, and they can put their shit out themselves and get some money directly. When I think about the radical possibilities of music, I think about music no longer being a commodity, but that gets a little heady and hard to think about at this time. When music isn’t a commodity, I mean, I don’t know if that’s possible. Those of us who are white or non-Black, isn’t our relationship to dance music or hip hop always commodifying? You know, I don’t know. 

But ultimately the strength that I’ve been finding is in community, always. Coming back to that, trying to build that here in a new space with new people. 

Tal: Are there any artists or other people in your life who you want to shout out or give thanks to while we’re here talking about community, and we have this platform?

Swaya: I’m shocked I haven’t mentioned this already, but earlier in the pandemic, me and a couple friends reached out to each other - it happened kind of simultaneously - and we decided to form a little group. We had all been thinking of forming a collective, not a front-facing one, like a brand, but an inward facing one, sort of an internal support network of people who work in music. So we’ve been meeting sporadically, talking through insecurities, talking through industry, talking through all sorts of issues that we face. That’s been really grounding for me and much needed, so huge shout out to them: D-Grade, Remote Access, DJ Pacifier, Mvcoko.

I want more people to listen to Valeda’s music since it’s so good. I’ve been enjoying keeping in touch with homies like Tati Au Miel and LUNÁTICA, who make amazing music. In terms of rappers I would say Harocaz, who’s in Boston and has great songs. My friend GIB DJ, he’s an amazing producer from Boston. We started having zoom hangouts and playing beats with each other, and we’d call out and invite other people to come. There were some great people involved in that, like my friend Magella who’s a great musician from Montreal and my friend Lucas, whose artist name is Jamesboy.

Also huge shout out to John Scott at Phoenix Down for giving me a chance to intern at your studio and learn essentially everything I now know about audio engineering. Shout out to the other Phoenix homies as well. Shout out to Tony Seltzer, for being really helpful and supportive and cool welcoming me into his space. Finally, shoutout to my friends and roommates who’ve supported me, Cecilia, Michelle, Marie, you.

ʚïɞ ® producer, engineer, dj jacuzzi co-organizer contact: swaya96@gmail.com

 

Welcome Home: Getting to Know Hannah Cohen

 
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During quarantine, days feel long and hours even longer. Some of our thoughts get stuck in a loop of different hopes, anxieties, and boredom - at least mine do. Sometimes I spent the whole day thinking, "Am I gonna stay in sweatpants forever?", "Will the next season of Euphoria will be on Zoom because people can't go outside?", "Are my grandparents ok?"

One day, my brain just slowed down, and with it came more empathy for my body and heart. Suddenly, I enjoyed being alone in my apartment, drinking tea to strengthen my immune system. 

During one of my Release Radar listening sessions on Spotify, a sweet angelic voice began to sing. The song was This Is Your Life, from New York-based singer-songwriter Hannah Cohen's third album, Welcome Home, released in 2019.  

Hanna's sound on the album is dreamy, introspective and extremely comfortable. Mixing folk and pop, she invites you to meet her intimacy in a Carole King mood. For me, it was truly a sparkling moment to my ears and thoughts. Each instrument she uses from bursts of pulsing guitar, bass, or drums can captivate joy and lightness in our darkest times.

The album's atmosphere echoes a day lying in the grass, watching the sun, reflecting on thoughts, and drinking a nice cold tea by the pool. Hannah's music is totally a must for you romantics out there.  

I had the pleasure to talk to her about her album, inspirations, her creative process during quarantine and more. 

Photo via Hannah Cohen

Photo via Hannah Cohen

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

João Rodolfo for Also Cool Mag: What does Welcome Home represent to you? What do you want people to feel while they listen to it? 

Hannah Cohen: For me, the songs felt like a meditation on the things I wanted to manifest in my life. I wanted change, a fresh start. I wanted to create a real home for myself physically and spiritually. All the constant energy of the city was too intense for my nervous system. I never felt like I was at home when I was living in NYC.

Also Cool: In your lyrics, we can feel that you were in a state of self-examination, isolation and outgrowing what no longer served you. Could you tell us more about your experiences while creating Welcome Home

Hannah: When I was writing the songs for Welcome Home, I finally realized I needed to leave the city. Moving to the countryside was a very intimidating and foreign idea to me, but I knew I needed a big change. 

I was scared to make such a drastic change in my life, but I felt that would be the only way to really shake things up. I feel like the universe notices when you make big shifts, and things will start to fall into places quicker than you'd think.  

Photo via Hannah Cohen

Photo via Hannah Cohen

AC: Which song off the album is your favourite, and why? 

Hannah: I would say Old Bruiser is my favourite. It is a capsule of a really special time for me when I was letting go of things that weren't serving me anymore.  

AC: During these dark times and lockdowns, what can we learn about isolation with Welcome Home?

Hannah: Home can be anywhere you feel safe. Try to find that space in your mind. 

Hannah Cohen

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João Rodolfo is a trend forecaster, pop culture lover, writer and editor in chief of Sticky Icky Mag and Emma Roberts enthusiast.  

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Also Cool x POP Montreal Premiere: Eve Parker Finley's "Come With Me"

 

Photo credit: Laurence Philomène

While a caterpillar enters a chrysalis before transforming into a butterfly, Eve Parker Finley’s seamless blends of classical, electronic, ambient, indie pop, and folk music create safe spaces for listeners to reconcile with their emotions - and maybe even with their own transformations. The Montreal-based producer, multi-instrumentalist, media maker, and facilitator is premiering “Come With Me” (linked at the end) off her debut album Chrysalia, which will be released on December  4th with Florafone Records and Coax Records. She is also performing at this year’s POP Montreal on the Rialto Theatre rooftop at 3pm on September 24th - tickets are still available to see her IRL! We caught up with her on the new album, making video art, TikTok, and filming a video for virtual Miss Gay Panama 2020. Indulge below:

Maya for Also Cool Mag: You're releasing a new album - what's it about?

Eve Parker Finley: I'm releasing my first full album, and the official date is now December 4th, which is super exciting. It's called Chrysalia, and it's a bunch of songs that I've written over the past year or two years. I recorded it last summer with my friend Ky Brooks and I'm super happy with it. It's called Chrysalia because there's this word, “chrysalism”, that describes that feeling of pleasure you get when you're inside during a thunderstorm. So that, mixed with chrysalis, which obviously everyone thinks is what a caterpillar goes into to be safe and calm before it turns into a butterfly.

But actually, in the chrysalis, the caterpillar turns into a pile of goo and has to reconstitute itself - and it's super messy and gross. So [a combination of] those two things, plus I wanted it to sound a little more feminine, so that's why it's Chrysalia.

MH: You made a post on Instagram where you were talking about the idea of transformation - was that tying into the theme of this album and the title itself?

I feel like I'm always trying to reinvent myself. It ties back to my experiences through life and music. When I was a kid, I was in the classical music world from age four to 17, and I learned a lot through that, but I also found the culture really restrictive.

I remember my violin teacher was even like, "No one can wear nail polish or watches, or even too much jewelry here, because it's distracting,” and we'd play these competitions where people would finish and then bow to the three people in the room - and then everyone would be like, dead silent.

It was such an uptight culture - and no wonder so many people leave and stop playing music because of that. So I fell out of love with music when I was 17 and moved to Montreal. Here I found another way to do music and fell into more of a music scene. I eventually found my way back to violin electronics in a way that I found more exciting.

I started making music on my own, changed the genre of music I was making a bunch of times, changed names a few times. Now we're here in - I don't think my final form - but here we are.

MH: So no longer Lonely Boa? Or is that still a name that you go by for certain projects?

Lonely Boa has been retired.

It was definitely a really hard decision. I spent a lot of quarantine thinking about it. It's really scary to just start releasing music by your own name. That name of Lonely Boa has been really helpful for me to have a constant stage name throughout a bunch of gender name changes. But now it's time to come into my own and just be like, "I'm this person making this music and doing all these other things and they're all me and I am all of them."

MH: Going back to the notion of goo in a cocoon - is there something about the texture of sludge that interested you?

Yeah, totally. There are a couple songs on the album that are what I would describe as sludgy. The album is a kind of mix of genres. There are a couple songs that are contemporary classical, a couple songs that are more like indie pop bangers, alternative pop bangers. And then there are a couple of drone-ey, sludgy songs.

MH: So you're making electronic music that’s meshed with more classical sounds - and maybe you're just creating your own genre - but what influences do you have for that?

For the longest time I had trouble describing what kind of music I made, and then I was like, "Oh, why am I trying to put this into a box?" I don't think people want to listen to just one kind of music anymore. I like to say that my music floats between three points of a triangle, which are indie pop/electronica, drone-y ambient, and contemporary classical.

MH: What are you listening to? What kind of music are you into that maybe isn't even related to what you're making? What do you find cool?

If you scroll through my Spotify "liked" songs playlist, you will find a big mix of pure pop music - you have Gaga, I've been really obsessed with the pussycat dolls recently (again) -  but I also love Tame Impala, indie pop music, I love some R&B, and a lot of folk-y/new folk music. I also love some noise stuff - like ARCA.

MH: What have you been up to these past few months - I noticed you had gotten into video production and were somehow involved in Miss Gay Panama? Like... I need to know.

So, I had a bit of a life change the past half a year. Back in January, I felt burnt out at my stressful job at McGill. I left in January, and then moved into an apartment by myself for the first time - and a month later the shit hit the fan!

 [During lockdown] I really had to learn how to be by myself and how to cancel out everything I thought I was going to do - all the shows, I was going on tour in June - and just  learn how to take care of myself and cook food, do laundry, and sleep.

I wanted to see what would happen if I could really focus on music in the next couple of years. [Because] when the pandemic happened, I was like, "Oh my God, what am I supposed to do? What can I do? What do I need to do?"

I thought about something I could easily share and realized I could start making videos. It seems like all of a sudden many of us [artists] have had to become video creators in a way that we weren't necessarily before.

I helped my friend win Miss Gay Panama Virtual 2020, which was so fun. We produced four different videos for the different categories - and it was really cool that she could participate from afar. We did a scrappy DIY - just a camera, a couple of lights, a little stabilizer borrowed from a friend, and a few friends helping - and we won!

MH: Did you also get into TikTok?

I fell deep into the TikTok hole. I'm not as deep into it as I was a month ago, but it's so weird - it's beautiful and funny and intense, but it's also clearly designed to be this addictive feed of dopamine-releasing content. As much as I find it entertaining and love the medium and the style of wacky videos that people do, I don't want to get caught up in [a fad].

MH: Just last night I watched that Netflix documentary on social media called The Social Dilemma. It's interesting because TikTok and Instagram have been such important points of communication throughout the pandemic, and while we've all binge-scrolled on those platforms and know that they're unhealthy, [during the pandemic] social media has also been really helpful for people to feel less alone.

Don't get me started on The Social Dilemma - I thought it was informative and I agreed with a lot of it, but they kept saying that there's nothing good about social media, that it's not a tool for anything. just an addiction, made for advertising, whatever. But people find community through those things, especially when they're isolated, and I think that's legitimate.

MH: I think it's also an important resource for information that we've all been learning to take advantage of, especially these past few months.

Also good to remember it's controlled by a company.

MH: You're doing music full-time time now, while also not being able to have in-person gigs and go on tour like before - how has that transition been for you?

At first it was terrifying, because I was like, "How is this possible?" The CERB has been really helpful, but I'm not in a place of making any money from music yet. I'm just investing in it now - I'll see what happens. At the beginning it was stressful, but it's also been very exciting to see this real energy to create new things.

There seems to be a new kind of economy popping up, like Bandcamp Fridays, where a hundred percent [of the proceeds] goes to the artists - and that's been super helpful. A bunch of live streaming gigs have also started to happen - I did a gig for Suoni Per Il Popolo and this thing called Arts Cast, and I got paid to do it, and felt awesome to play a show. It was my first show since the pandemic, no audience, but we took the visual of it so seriously - there were five different camera angles, we made the set, designed the colors and everything.

People always find a way to play and share music.

Check out “Come With Me” on Bandcamp

Come With Me by Eve Parker Finley, released 17 September 2020 It took a Long time to find you and fine Me. But now we are Both free. So won't you come with me. Won't you come with me? Take me to the clouds. Won't you come with me.

Violin, Vox, Electronics, Sax by Eve Parker Finley
Written by Eve Parker Finley
Recording and Mixing by Ky Brooks
Cello by Alexis Castrogiovanni
Viola by Gwendolyne Krasnicki
Mastered by Harris Newman (Greymarket Mastering)
Recorded at The Pines in Montreal, Quebec


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Also Cool x POP Montreal Artist Spotlight: NOVEMBER

 
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POP Montreal returns this year in a hybrid format (with both online and COVID-safe IRL events), ready to fill the void with good tunes and incredible talent. We're proud to announce our partnership with them, promoting some of our favourite artists.

First up, we have the dreamy NOVEMBER, who will be playing on Saturday the 26th, at the Rialto Clubhouse. Get your tickets and check out the even here.

Malaika for Also Cool Mag: How did music enter your life? What's your relationship to music like now?

NOVEMBER: Music was always present at home. I grew up with a single Haitian mother, and not only is music imbued in our culture, but she always said, "We aren't at church, the house doesn't need to be quiet." So something like an 80s power ballad or kompa was always playing in the background. 

I got into it more as an art in my teens as I started finding myself and discovering music by myself. Demon Days by the Gorillaz was pivotal for me as a kid. It was when I was really like, "Ok, I want to make people feel the things I'm feeling now." It took me a while from that point to even admit what I wanted to do out loud. Still, by then, I had started absorbing any music I could listen to and refining my own sensibilities. 

My relationship to music has really strengthened over the years. As it's become more of my career, I was genuinely scared there would be some tainted feels in mixing the art with more business stuff. But before anything, it will always be the most raw and spiritual way I express myself and process life. I'll never not make music, and I'll never not love it. 

Also Cool: Who are your musical inspirations? What are your favourite albums right now?

NOVEMBER: I've always been very inspired by fearless women. I'm a huge Lady Gaga fan and was blown away by Chromatica. Solange and FKA twigs are also two artists who's complete vision I'm just in awe of. Both released last year but When I Get Home and Magdalene were in my top played records for 2019. 

I'd say Dépêche Mode are also huge influences on my sound, and their music is sacred to me. Violator and Black Celebration are up there, but it's all amazing. I also adore George Michael and am influenced by him too. He had this amazing voice, made most of his music himself and seemed like a beautiful soul. I mentioned the Gorillaz, but really all of Damon Albarn's projects have impacted me, and I think he's a legend. 

Other albums I loved this year were; What We Drew by Yaeji, which is an amazing exploration of this soundscape, What's Your Pleasure? by Jessie Ware is disco fire, Mordechai by Khruangbin who are one of my favourite bands, Ungodly Hour by Chloe x Halle which is just excellent, how I'm feeling now by Charli XCX and Sawayama by Rina Sawayama both of which are amazing expansions on what pop music is. An album I've found myself going back to over the years to The Worry by Seekae, who are this Australian act. The record is perfect from start to finish. I'm really into the album experience. 

AC: What are your non-musical inspirations? 

NOVEMBER: I've always had a deep appreciation for visual artists and what they do. I love photography and try to see as much as possible through online mediums primarily. When I find photographers I like, I get very into their work. Right now Ren Hang is an artist whose photography I'm really into. 

Besides that, I love museums. I usually visit one wherever I'm playing a show and have a membership to the Fine Arts Museums in Montreal. I also love taking walks in nature, if possible. I love to observe life around me. Lastly, I love being around water, which is ironic because I can't swim. I recently saw the Atlantic for the first time, and it was crazy!! I'm the type to just sit and stare out for hours just thinking, writing, looking. And don't let me get a joint cause then it's doubled. 

AC: What's your experience been like with the Montreal music scene? Do you have any advice for anyone wanting to launch their own project, but who aren't sure how?

NOVEMBER: On one hand, incredibly supportive and uplifting. Many of the opportunities I've had so far have come from people in this city, rooting and pulling for me. People have been very real in this city because they've supported me because of my talent first, which has helped me grow in other areas. Everything kinda snowballs, and opportunities like the ones given to me by the POP team have helped. 

On the other hand, I can live in the real world and say I've seen people come out of nowhere and get much more, much faster. It's all good because there's enough cake on the table, and I truly believe that, but hey, would things be easier if I was white and playing acoustic guitar? Probably. That issue isn't just a Montreal one, though. 

My advice, which disclaimer is biased towards singer/songwriters, would be first off just experiment at home. Download whatever DAW and learn basics from YouTube and forums. You don't need to become a super producer if that's not what your thing is, but always have enough vocabulary to articulate what you want to, whoever you work with. Otherwise, everyone will try to impose their vision of you onto you. Your vision of self needs to be definite and self-created. Other than that, I'd say if your project has vocals, please, you don't need to be an amazing vocalist. I really believe in just being good enough to express your own vision. BUT if you have live vocals, make sure your lyrics get heard. I've seen and played lots of shows, and the strangers you'll be courting into becoming fans when you're the first act of a four-act bill will focus much more if they know what they're hearing. 

AC: You describe your music as "lovers with open eyes." If you could describe your songs as different kinds of lovers; Who are they, and what kind of dates would they take you on?

NOVEMBER: All my songs are the kind of lovers who cry, for whatever reason, but it happens. Maybe they're tears of joy. They write poetry, lay their feelings out for you and do that neck kiss thing. The dates would involve a museum, a smoke in the park, a movie in a small theatre (cause distancing), and late dinner after another smoke. 

AC: What's one thing that has helped you grow as a person and a musician over this quarantine?

NOVEMBER: Realizing I'm much more capable as an artist and business person than I thought. I finished my BFA in acting during the pandemic, and that helped me come into myself more. I became more able to negotiate for myself and generally be like ok this "what I do." I think I assumed success meant outsourcing a lot creatively, which wasn't how I liked to work. I rediscovered confidence in producing, visuals etc that I hadn't felt since I was a teen just trying shit out. 

AC: Wrapping up, what can we expect from your POP performance, and what's the best way to directly support you?

NOVEMBER: First off vocals. Some people have really cool bass solos, but I've got my voice. It's always been a main component of my sound. I'll be premiering my new song, Jerome, which is coming out right after POP on October 2nd. This will be my last performance before I release a new EP, so it's at least a temporary farewell to songs I've had in my set for years. Because of this, I wanted to update some older songs and add a few new layers to them. 

Other than that, you can always expect to feel something strong from my shows. Whatever that is is up to you. 

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NOVEMBER

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Montreal-based Molyness brings Berlin, and Moroccan fusion to the techno scene

 
Photo of Molyness by Moussa Fellahi

Photo of Molyness by Moussa Fellahi

This interview was initially recorded in French, translated by the author.

Having moved to Montreal from Morocco three years ago to pursue her passion for electronic music, Ines Mouline – better known as Molyness – brings a fusion of Gnawa, Sub-Saharan, Berlinesque, and orchestral influences into the scene, and her art.

I first met Mouline last summer at a techno afternoon party in the Mile-End. My friend introduced me to her, and I got to see her mix a set for the first time at the Newhaus, a club downtown where she has often played. It was back in Winter, we took a taxi down to the club lit with blue lights, behind a hidden door in the Dirty Dogs on de Maisonneuve. From there on I got to see Mouline frequently play, either at house parties, outdoor raves or larger venues.

Nestled in the back room of Le Café Depanneur, Mouline and I discussed her upbringing, her influences, the beginnings of her musical path, and her positionality in the electronic scene of Montreal.

Photo of Molyness by Soline Van de Moortele

Photo of Molyness by Soline Van de Moortele

The style of her music is rooted in her attachment to her native Moroccan culture. She describes her style as “melodic-techno.” Mouline was born in Casablanca, but spent most of her childhood and teen years in the capital, Rabat. It was here that Mouline began her musical career. She grew up seeped in music, her mother pushing her to play piano, and gave her rock & roll influences – particularly, Pink Floyd, whose long intros and sound design have inspired Mouline in her musical production.

At a young age, her mother, a musician, had her playing piano, guitar, and later the bass. “My mother is one of the people who enriches me the most,” she said, “in what I do, in the sense that she encouraged me from the beginning. She let me leave so I could pursue something that I love and that impassions me.”

She began playing electronic music in highschool, as it became “la tendance,” the trend. New electronic music gear was hard to come by in Morocco – when she visited Medina with her mom, Mouline bought her first used production material, and eventually her dad would bring her back a Pioneer from France. Finally, her first year in Montreal, she purchased her first controller and her Traktor S4 which she continues to use for her live sets.

Photo of Molyness by Moussa Fellahi

Photo of Molyness by Moussa Fellahi

Mouline arrived in Montreal three years ago first to complete a certificate at Musictechnic, and after discovering electronic music as an immutable passion during this time, she took the next year off from school to build networks and perform around the city. Last year she began a Bachelors degree at Concordia in electronic music.

Most of Mouline’s evolution as an artist has come from each of her live performances – learning to gauge the public and space is something which demands an interaction with the energy given to her from her audience. “When I compare my first live sets, my first playlists, even people’s reactions, I’m told more and more that in my live sets people are able to better recognize my signature [as an artist]… More and more I let myself go, I let myself experiment a lot more.”

“Each time I perform a live set, it’s an experience, and I learn so much from each one.”

Photo of Molyness by Soline Van de Moortele

Photo of Molyness by Soline Van de Moortele

The first set she played was in Morocco, at a hotel party with a beautiful view her friend from school invited her to perform at back-to-back. “It was the best way for me to throw myself in front of an audience,” she explained. “It gave me a sense of confidence and that’s what we want.”

Her professional performances in Montreal kick-started when she met Abdel – stage name DJ Adverb – who plugged her for gigs across the city. He connected with her through his cousin who knew Mouline back in Morocco, and invited her to play an opening set for a party he was organizing at the downtown Montreal club the Newhaus: “He told me ‘You’re going to play at the Newhaus, it’s now that I need you.’ He had never heard a set of mine, nothing. He just trusted me.”

Mouline did the opening set for the night, and she recalled the experience as being “totally sick, it was just do dope.” From there on, Abdel became a kind of manager for her, booking her frequent shows at the Newhaus and the Velvet club in Old Port. She’s also played underground parties, in hidden indoor spots with more industrial techno. “I like the underground side, I like the intense side of it, but I think I’m someone who always prefers playing in nature.” In general, Mouline isn’t one to go out a lot in clubs or in raves that she might play in. “I don’t really go out in those places, I’ve never been the clubbing type…It’s an intense lifestyle to go out all the time.”

Photo of Molyness by Moussa Fellahi

Photo of Molyness by Moussa Fellahi

I asked Mouline about her biggest influences. “The first, the biggest, is David August.” David August’s Boiler Room set from 2014 was the first set she ever watched. “Honestly, there were no mistakes. His live set was perfect.”

“His album from beginning to end… that’s the kind of thing I want to do. The essence is very different from what I do, but in everything relating to [his] sound design, the way he interacts with the sound, how precise it is.” Him and Nicolas Jaar were the first DJs she followed.

“In music a bit more Arab there’s Shame who’s really good, and Monsieur ID. They play around a lot with Gnawian music.”

Mouline also described to me with passion one of her all-time favorite collaborative albums, “Marhab” by Maalem Mahmoud Guinia, Floating Points, and James Holden. A friend in Morocco showed her the album before she arrived in Canada. The album was done in a town near Marrakech, in Guinia’s home. They spent two-weeks in his home recording the album. “It was just recorded jamming…[I love] that alchemy, and that mixture.”

“[The album] is a good reference to what I want to create,” but with her own, less intense style.

Photo of Molyness by Soline Van de Moortele

Photo of Molyness by Soline Van de Moortele

As a full-time student whose courses went online, Mouline lost most of her routine structure when the pandemic began raging in Montreal. That said, she was able to be productive, in part in her musical production, and in part in the places she was able to play at. It was the first summer she spent away from Morocco.

“Honestly, it had a more positive than negative impact for me. I recognize we were really lucky to be in Montreal, we weren’t completely restrained, there was trust in the population... There are always phases, moments that are easier than others, moments of putting yourself in question, but I took time for myself.”

“What I loved was that it gave space for newer artists.” Mouline had a chance to play in and organize smaller events at a more local level, rather than going through large, established organizations and collectives.

Photo of Molyness by Moussa Fellahi

Photo of Molyness by Moussa Fellahi

With the pandemic raging on and limited access to large events, Mouline believes more local artists will be brought forth. For the Montreal scene, Mouline said she’d “encourage…the push for outdoor parties.”

There are some, including Piknic Electronik and Igloofest. “But the prices keep going up…. I’d want to keep the spirit of Montreal…Everyone must feel good. We gotta stop increasing festival prices every year, [and] play more with the local scene. There’s tons of choices here for local talent, and diversity. No need to go far.”

Right as our interview was finishing up and Mouline was getting ready to leave, I wanted to ask her one last question that, as a techno-lover but not a techno-player, I wanted to know: how do you choose your songs?

“This is what I really learned through live performance… Between my first lives and the ones I do now there’s a huge difference. I now realize that the pieces I listen to alone, those that really get me vibing, aren’t necessarily the best for performing. It’s a different approach… I couldn’t give you the exact words to describe which songs I perform live.”

“It’s about the rhythms, and how you bring [the different songs] in. I play around, it takes time, it’s frustrating, you have to listen to a lot of bullshit… it always takes several steps. Some days I go check stuff on Beatport, Bandcamp, a bit of anything, and I transfer them onto my YouTube playlists.”

Molyness

Instagram

 Soline Van de Moortele is a Philosophy student at Concordia/insatiable feminist, raver, and writer. 

 

Premiere: GG Love - "It Could Still Be A Win"

 

Photo credit: Kensey Crane

As the hot summer days come to an end, autumn’s mystery and nostalgia gently envelop us, inspiring reflections on relationships past and present. The leaves might be falling, but MTL pop group GG Love’s new video for “It Could Still Be A Win” from their upcoming album, How Do You Define Love?, channels a golden-hued optimism that may best be attained by dancing with disco balls in an enchanted forest…

Their old-time friend, Regularfantasy (who we also interviewed in January), caught up with Georgia Graham (GG) and James Player (JP) on everything from how the band got together to what their signature Pump Pump moves are (keep reading for context!).


Regularfantasy: Who are GG Love?

Georgia Graham: The project started with just me. I played one solo show in my living room in Vancouver before moving to Montreal. James and I started making music together and it grew into a band, for many years with KÌzis Cota on bass. Now the band includes James, Jane L. Kasowicz Chris Hernandez, and myself.


RF: What does the name mean? I know this was your nickname a while back (back when we used to work together at a hair salon) - how did it come about?

GG: GG are my first and last initials - and Love is my middle name. I typed it into SoundCloud when I made my very first demos without really thinking, and then it just stuck.



When did it all begin for you, musically? What inspired you to start a band?

GG: I wrote the first GG Love song, Leave Your Car, on a keyboard I found at my mom’s house back in Victoria in 2012. Before that I was writing and performing kinda folk songs and sometimes playing in other people’s rock bands. It felt good to get the drum machines going. 

JP: Georgia and I met while we were in a production of Jesus Christ Superstar. Georgia played Anas, the priest, and I was the guitarist in the band. We started making music together soon after that.


What are you influenced by in your music?

JP: All of us in the band have a lot of diverse musical interests that influence how we make music together. I’m really interested in improvisation, and that’s sort of my approach to guitar playing, both in recording and performing - improvising inside a pop song structure. Lately I like Mary Halvorson a lot.

I also really like 50s pop music and doo-wop.

GG: I love collaborating and am interested in pushing the performance aspect of a live show. Earlier this year I performed as Tall GG on the shoulders of Laura Jeffery (one of the dancers from the music video) wearing a long coat. I can’t really experiment with performance in that way these days, so I’m turning to video to channel some of that energy. 


What is “It Could Still Be A Win” about?

GG: It’s not about a specific person, but more of a reflection on relationships from my early 20’s. I wrote these lyrics about 5 years ago, so the line about being called out felt a lot more light-hearted. It’s about being skeptical or disappointed by someone, but also seeing their potential. 


Have you acquired any new COVID hobbies?

JP: I started a work out group called Pump Pump. At first it was my friend David and me. Now there are 32 people in the Instagram DM thread - which is the maximum number you can have. You can find us every other day in Jarry Park at either 10am or 6pm by the hill. 

GG: I started sewing and modifying my clothes which feels pretty classic COVID. 



What’s your signature Pump Pump move - GG how’s your knee?

JP: Frog leaps.

GG: Romanian deadlift. I’m trying to remember to do my physio exercises for my knee, thanks for asking.



What about the vid - where was it filmed? Why frog? Why Clown?

JP: It was filmed on Mont Royal near the cemetery last fall. 

I’m pretty obsessed with Fall. I’m also sort of obsessed with frogs. I had a frog costume in the closet, so this seemed like a good chance to combine the two interests. I also really wanted to film at night and have a fire looking something like the midnight society from AYAOTD (Are You Afraid of the Dark - the 90’s horror series).

GG: A lot of it was improvised so I can’t really explain the clown - it was just the vibe of the moment.


You tend to keep yourself busy - what other projects have you been working on?

GG: I co-curate an annual photography slideshow called Magic Lantern that’s coming up soon. We also just filmed another music video (that features Pump Pump!), so I’m working on editing that. 

JP: I’m going back to school. Electroacoustics. Today’s my first day.

Check out the video for “It Could Still Be A Win” below:

Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube.

 

Premiere: Alpen Glow's debut single "Saturday Nite"

 

Image credit: Amery Sandford

Remember that Gossip Girl meme that was circulating a few months back? There was one really relatable rendition of it - and I really miss going to gigs, girl. Please find below if you haven’t seen it, courtesy of the very niche Montreal meme page, @burymeatleritz. Alpen Glow’s debut EP Amertape 2020 threw me right back into that quintessentially ‘covidian’ mindset of reminiscing about nights out partying with friends, dance floor romances, and most notably, hugs, girl. 

Alpen Glow is the debut solo project of Montreal-based visual artist and musician Amery Sandford (BBQT, Born at Midnite). Inspired by new skills acquired during lockdown, Amertape 2020 and the accompanying 3D animated videos are an escape into an alternative digital dream world where your lockdown fantasies come to life. Far from being heartbreak songs, Amery’s cheeky lyrics keep the vibe lighthearted and fun, with instrumentals tastefully inspired by the corniness of 2000’s pop and reality TV. 

“The whole thing kind of happened within the time of lockdown. I wrote it all when I was deep in quarantine so that I could go somewhere else mentally - on the days when I could actually make music. I also cried a lot and watched a lot of reality TV. Quarantine was a lot of creative productivity and a lot of being really sad.” 

Admit it, we’ve all had at least one trash TV show we’ve been unusually invested in these past few months. When asked what her guilty pleasure was, Amery unhesitatingly named Real Housewives as inspiration when writing this EP, “I actually started watching reality TV in a serious way during quarantine and the songs are definitely inspired by those weird social experiments. I’ve been watching a lot of Real Housewives - a few of them have music projects and make songs that are very highly produced, but lyrically very sketchy. It’s kind of crazy. I’ve been thinking about these highly-produced, super ‘aspirational’ people who appear on Bravo TV a lot.” 

Photo credit: Brandon Brookbank


Sketchy as it may sometimes seem, stark detachment from reality proved to be a great coping mechanism for bleak times, “I was entering these weird worlds through reality TV… I was also alone in my apartment because I don’t have any roommates… and I was thinking about going somewhere else for a minute, and about the power that creative people have to do that - the power of world building.” 

While some of us just binge-watched Too Hot to Handle, Amery saw an opportunity to integrate her visual art with her music, taking the time to learn how to play the keyboard and do 3D animation, “It was a good time to learn something new - I got really into 3D animation and taught myself how to play the keyboard - and I ended up writing all the songs on it.”

The videos are an experimentation with using a highly-technical program for the first time and freely accepting the clumsiness that comes along with it, “Visually, since I’m not very good at it yet, I would say [the videos] look like early 80’s animations - all these weird spaces that look like a video game with me on a tiny screen. It was a very lo-fi look.” Is it an Instagram filter? Are we in a Zoom club scene? Who knows? Almost too closely resembling some saved video-call screenshots on my camera roll, the aesthetic is relatable and reminiscent of the virtual reality we’ve been living in lately. 

Image credit: Amery Sandford

“Saturday Nite” has a bar scene at the hottest new fantasy dance spot, Amerbar, “I was just thinking, ‘Oh, I'm going to make a bar,’ and then once I modeled it - it looked really sketchy! It's funny visualizing something and then trying to recreate it in a program that you're not very good at - I love that shit. I love when people use programs like that, but they aren't necessarily technical [themselves]. They make something that sounds really unique. That's always been my relationship to music. I'm a visual artist first and musician second - and [being an ‘outsider’] makes it very special.”

“A lot of people that I know just pick up music - and you just have different ideas when you're not a trained musician. You can make things where trained musicians are like, ‘what the fuck?’”

Who needs music theory when we’ve all been in need of a hug since March...




Check out “Saturday Nite,” the first single from Alpen Glow’s Amertape 2020, below:

Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube.



Make sure to stay tuned for the release of Summer House on September 18th and the full EP on October 1st on Bandcamp

$2 from every sale will be donated to The Black Healing Fund, a Tio'Tia:ke / Montreal based project that exists to provide Black people in the MTL area with discretionary funding for therapy and other mental health focused resources.

Below is a playlist of songs that inspired Amertape 2020, including one Real Housewives production (!!!) called Chic, C’est La Vie - we are obsessed.

Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube.

 

Artist Spotlight: Active Surplus talk creativity, friendship, and releasing their first EP on Pacific Rhythm

 

Image Credit: Michelle Chiu

“We were always just chillin - we were homies. Homies first, and then we just happened to love jamming.” 


Active Surplus, the collaborative project from Toronto duo Evan Vincent (Emissive) and Ian Syrett, is a product of friendship. As most good things do - one of the most exciting new electronic projects began completely by chance. The two met at a house party in 2014, while studying in London, Ontario - they happened to be the only people in the room who listened to techno. After many years of hanging out and jamming together - they’re convinced to now be approaching thousands of hours of face-to-face time (re: the 10,000 Hour Rule) - this May they released their eponymous first EP on Vancouver label Pacific Rhythm. During a Zoom call one warm quarantine evening, I chatted with Evan and Ian about everything from the ins and outs of producing music with a friend, to piecing together years of work for their debut record, dreaming of hazmat suits to bring back clubbing, and their parallel love for both Baltimore house and roti. 


The EP is a compilation of four tracks weaving together groovy, chilled-out electro melodies with chopped breaks referencing the percussion of Jersey club Bmore house. The intro track, “Yaye”, sets the scene with an addictive vocal chant over very danceable, choppy drum samples, and gentle chords characteristic of the West Coast sound throughout. 


This unique combination of influences was what turned years of jamming and experimentation into a distinctive voice. “We got to the point where we realized we had a LOT of music - and we just sat down one day and we were like, okay, let's actually start putting all the loose ends together. Who does this energy speak to - what sort of cultural movements are inspired by this and are informed by this?” One particular movement seemed to really resonate with them - and suddenly the rest of the pieces fell into place.


Evan: “We started chasing down the Bmore [Baltimore]  sound pretty heavily. Finding ways to flip that into what we were already doing. And I think that's really the one thing. It's really hard to have cohesion - especially when you have a lot of ideas. Having something that's the glue that puts it all together as a theme can be really hard to grasp.”

“So yeah, looking towards Jersey club and the Baltimore sound, it was a really nice way to get a lot of the tracks gelling together conceptually. But it’s something that we kind of jumped on to - we really started absorbing it later. Initially [the tracks] had more of an electro vibe.” 


A good thing about working with a sample-heavy sound is the ability to move the samples around and change the direction of the tracks - and upon receiving positive feedback on “Yaye,” the duo figured they were onto something. 


“We can take different worlds and combine them. It's kind of like collaging - that's usually how I think of it. You're taking all of these different elements and finding ways to get them to say something as a collective whole.”

Ian: And this is our first EP, right? So this was our first crack at sending a message out there - and we've got tons more material that we're going to keep working on. The theme for the first EP was definitely very B’more heavy, for sure - that was the vibe that we were feeling at the time.”

When asked why they decided to release on a Vancouver-based label, Active Surplus described working with their friends at Pacific Rhythm as a natural fit for this record. 

Evan: “My favorite labels are the types that have a narrative. We were racking our brains thinking, what's our influence, what are our favorite labels? And then who do we also have a connection with? You know, because you want it to be natural. It's awkward when you're shopping records and you don't know [the label] - music's a very personal thing.”

Good news! Pacific Rhythm is once again connecting game with one of Toronto's most promising young duos, Active Surplus. Active Surplus is the collaborative project from Evan Vincent (AKA Emissive) and Ian Syrett, who also appear on this past winter's fourth volume of Rhythms Of The Pacific. Their new self-titled EP is their love letter to the house music sound that first sprouted from the West Coast. It's laid-back, groovy and touched with lovely instrumentation, like the plucked strings on "Meera," a heartfelt tribute to a loved one. "Meera" and the billowing groove of "Ambrosia" might remind you of early Pacific Rhythm releases, with dainty arrangements and chords that waft across the rhythm section. But Active Surplus put their own spin on things. The EP was heavily inspired by the stuttering drum patterns of Baltimore club, which undergird each track in subtle but noticeable ways, making the grooves that much skippier and slippier. "Yeye" calls to mind the feeling of early Walt J material and delivers a devastating earworm that will stick with you long after the lights have come on at the end of a late night Dance Opportunity, while the looped woodwinds and cool-blue keyboards offer a sweet melodic hook on the irresistible "One Beyond." There's a confident, naturalistic quality to these rippling grooves and silky sounds, which the duo credit to an obsession with water. After all, in their words, "we might not live by the ocean, but we're all H20 on the inside." Thanks for listening!


While Evan works as an audio engineer and producer, Ian’s day-job is that of an audiologist. I asked Ian what it’s like to be so immersed in working with different aspects of sound - both hearing and music:


Ian: “It's definitely influenced the way I think about sound, for sure. It has more of an influence on some of the experimental stuff - I've tried a few things as far as more out-there sounds. I studied psychology when I was in undergrad and I was going to go into research in psychology. I was really interested in music, and I deejayed when I was younger - a lot. So [audiology] was a logical step for me to combine my love for sound and music with my background in psychology. As far as whether it influences actual musical material, maybe in some subconscious level - of just incorporating things that I've learned in school and in work.”

“I'm thinking about sound at work all the time, so I'm never that far away. There's similar language going on - both professionally and in my creative pursuit. It definitely makes it easier for me to work at the hospital, and then afterwards Evan and I jam for like - seven hours. Evan comes over, we jam and eat a roti, get back in the studio - eat lots of roti (laughs).”

“I love jamming and working with Evan because he's really proficient and creatively [he’s] really fun to work with. When I work on my solo project, I can sit there and work on the same sample for like three hours - whereas when I'm with Evan, I'll work on it for five minutes, and I'll look up, and he'll just be on his phone and I'll be like, ‘Oh yeah, shit, somebody else's time matters too’. It's easier to keep track of what the goal is when you're working with somebody else.”

Evan: “I'm guilty of the same thing - I'll be tweaking a filter for 45 minutes and it's like, you have to think about what the end pursuit [is], especially when you're with somebody else. I think it's easier to reach a manifested concept when you can be like, ‘this is working,’ or ‘maybe let's try this,’ and you can kind of work back and forth instead of just going in blind.”

Ian: “And lately, like for the past like two years, every time we jam we're making a track - or at least finishing something. So you spend enough time together, and eventually you finish each other's sentences. You don't have to go searching for the medium where your interests meet. It just sort of happens. It's more intuitive.”

Of course, what’s a Zoom call these days without mentioning something about the pandemic - I asked Active Surplus what advice they’d give creative people to stay motivated during this time of isolation:

Evan: When you find yourself with all this time, remember to take care of yourself and be easy on yourself. Also, this is an opportunity to actually just really explore the creative ideas that you're into because there's no more impetus to do just what's cool, or what's what people want. Now's the time to do exactly what you want to do and figure out what your voice is, and what your message is and what speaks to you.”

“Even if you're just making music for your own enjoyment, good. Find the thing that makes you feel amazing. As much as I love going to a club, and dance floor material, producers will feel like they need to make stuff that will get played to get out there - and to have their stuff in mixes. I think we'll see a lot more music of people just exploring sounds, trying new things. Exploring new directions, expressing themselves, expressing their frustrations. And getting into new ideas.. We'll see a lot more albums in the next little while.”

“You have time and you sit home; you can sit and listen to a record for an hour - it’s not like you are strapped for time anymore.”

...and then the conversation went a little beyond advice...


Ian: “You have to build a club where there's a tunnel that goes from your house to the club, but you're in your own little thing, and everyone's in there, and you can dance, and then there's another tunnel that brings the drink or whatever into your hands. And then you can jam with speakers inside each tunnel. And then when you're done, you're just back in your house.  

Evan: “I think I saw this thing online -  hazmat suits for clubbing - like you have your little cigarette…”



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Check out Vitamix on n10.as radio and catch Active Surplus’ guest mix with House of Delancey on Noods Radio on August 29th at 20:00 GMT

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Janette King Debuts New Track "Mars"

 
Janette King by Adam Nigro

Janette King by Adam Nigro

Producer, vocalist and DJ Janette King is back with "Mars." This lusty pop-RnB track produced by Jonny Tobin marks the launch of the record label Hot Tramp.

Founder/owner of Hot Tramp Sarah Armiento has been managing Janette since she launched her company in 2019. "Janette King is one of the most talented, creative and positive people I've ever met who matches that with an equally impressive work ethic, ambition and entrepreneurial spirit". This track is a taste of Janette King's forthcoming debut LP to be put out by Hot Tramp in May 2021. 

Imagined through sex, longing, and lust, "Mars" is a song about overcoming your fears to explore a deeper connection with someone who seems to be from a different planet than your own. This dreamy soundscape with catchy melodies and powerful vocals will definitely take you around the galaxy. 

We caught up with Janette over the phone to talk about the out of this world track, Hot Tramp's launch as a label, and her thoughts on the contemporary creative process. 

Dan MacDiarmid for Also Cool: This will be the first single on Hot Tramp as a label. Hot Tramp started out just last year, but I quickly heard it come up as a big name for show management and promotion, and now it's becoming a label.

Janette King: Yeah! I think it is really cool about Hot Tramp because you don't see a lot of women-led anything in the music industry. Hot Tramp is entirely run by Sarah. She tries really hard to be intersectional, inclusive, and diverse in the work that she does. I think that it's demonstrated in the shows that she puts on and promotes, even within her artists.

Also Cool: Let's talk about the song itself. "Mars" is Hot Tramp's debut single, and it's a celebration of Black queer sexuality. What does the song mean for you? 

Janette King: I had an intimate experience where we played with the idea of being on a different planet. I thought it was really cool because,  sometimes, as a Black artist in general, you kind of just feel like you're from a different world. I don't know, I also just feel like Black artists... they're kind of hypersexualized in certain aspects. It's nice to say "fuck it" to all of that (laughs) and explore sexuality and sensuality regardless. 

AC: Yeah, in your own voice. 

Janette King: Exactly, and as an artist, I haven't really written a lot about my sexuality, so that was kind of a new avenue for me. Exploring it within my own art. It was kind of a challenge, I wanted to expand a bit in terms of what I write about.

AC: What do you usually write about?

Janette King: I would say that I usually write about love. People breaking up, getting together. 

AC: Can you tell me anything more about the upcoming album? What's the vibe going to be, and what's in store for you?

Janette King: I always write about love, and it's a compilation of love songs, to various degrees. But more so, I was focusing on loss in terms of relationships. It expands into loss of oneself and loss of life, and mental health. 

It's an album about love and loss, just like all my other ones (laughs), but it kind of dives more deeply into the loss aspect and different ways you can lose.

AC: Did you write the song this summer?

Janette King: My friend who is the producer of the song, Jonny Tobin, created the beat and the soundscape. I wrote the lyrics, the melodies and the harmonies, and then my friend Alex mixed the vocals together. We did it in our own respective bedrooms.

Janette King by Adam Nigro

Janette King by Adam Nigro

AC: It's really cool that with technology and different ways to connect, you can do all that stuff even if you can't get into a recording studio.

Janette King: In this day and age, with the pandemic, it has to happen that way.

AC: Well, that's getting to the obligatory question, "How are you doing in quarantine?" Has it had influence over this song and your upcoming debut full-length album? Do you have any thoughts about its impact on Hot Tramp and artists and the disadvantages and potential new avenues?

Janette King: Personally, I've been creating a lot more than I usually would. It's given me a lot of space and time to just be an artist. However, I would say on the business side, it was devastating. We had a whole East Coast tour lined up, and a bunch of shows we wanted to do in promotion of the album. We had meetings with various industry folks... there were a lot of things that fell through because of COVID, small heartbreaks.

AC: Summer is when all these independent festivals and shows happen. All of a sudden, artists can't tour, and DIY local venues are shuttered. It's a weird transition phase because everyone has time to make new work, but there are limitations on how they can share that with other people. 

Janette King: Totally. People who didn't think certain things were possible, like producing an album with somebody over the internet, are now realizing, hey things are actually easier than I thought that they'd be. You're going to see a lot more producers pop out of the woodwork, you're going to see a lot more video editors too. When people have a lot of creativity and have a lot of time, magic happens, you know?

You can listen to "Mars" on Spotify, Apple Music, iTunes, Tidal, Soundcloud and Youtube. Keep an eye out for the official music video to be released in September, highlighting Black queerness and celebrating Black people's sexual freedom and expression, and make sure to stay tuned for what's coming up in the future from Janette and Hot Tramp. 

Hot Tramp

Instagram / Facebook

For Inquiries: Sarah@hottrampmanagement.com

Janette King

Instagram / Website


Dan MacDiarmid is a 24 year old writer and reality television scholar originally from the suburbs of Southern Ontario, now living in Ottawa. You can follow their cat on Instagram at @archieisfromriverdale.

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Introducing Trans Trenderz: A label by & for Black trans artists

 
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Trans Trenderz is the Black trans-owned record label helping trans and nonbinary artists achieve mainstream success by providing them with the resources they need. Founded by Blxck Cxsper (they/them) in 2016, the record label has now grown to span across Montreal and NYC, with Steph Durwin (he/him) joining the team in 2018. 

The label mobilizes allies via the Ghostly Beats Project, which provides Black trans artists with the resources they need to launch their careers. This includes recording, mixing, mastering, financial help with distribution, graphic design, music video creation, and marketing, all completely free of charge. They also host educational workshops for covering (but not limited to) transness, identity, and creative practices.

We caught up with Trans Trenderz to talk about the label's history and learn how allies can help. 

Blxck Cxsper: Hi! I'm Blxck Cxsper, Black non-binary hip hop artist from Montreal, and founder Trans Trenderz. My pronouns are they/them.

Steph: Hi I'm Steph, I'm an NYC-based engineer, producer & songwriter, and my pronouns are he/they.

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Blxck Cxsper via Trans Trenderz

Malaika for Also Cool: Hi! It's so nice to meet you. Let's start by talking about how the label began.

BC: The label started off as a mixtape that I had curated and produced. It featured 14 different trans artists from all over. We released it during a live launch in New York City on November 6th, 2016. I'm a Capricorn, so I'm always thinking about what's next every time I achieve a milestone. That's what initially inspired Trans Trenderz. The day after the launch, I was like, what can I do next? How do I keep going?

Steph: We met in the summer of 2018 at a trans health conference. We brainstormed about how we could work together on Trans Trenderz. We launched the label's NYC branch shortly after that and found some artists to start working with right away. 

Also Cool: What kind of support does the label offer to its artists, and how is it different from other labels out there?

BC: We don't take any royalties from our artists. We're a label, but we also provide management, an agent, the full package. So when an artist works with us, we're providing them with everything they need to get their career started. We also prioritize working with Black trans people and providing them with the support they need.

What we do most often is a six-month contract where the artist will release one single. They keep their music and royalties' rights, we take 10% of the booking fees, and then split the profit from the merch sales and physical copies. Artists don't have to pay anything in advance, and we record and produce their music entirely for free.

Steph: We do everything from pre-production to recording, mixing, mastering, distribution, the artwork, even going as far as performance coaching and mentorship. The goal of what we're doing is to provide the knowledge and skills to our artists so that even once our contract is over, they're to be fully independent. 

AC: This is the most ethical model for a label I've ever heard of.

BC: Well, we're artists too, you know!

Apollo Flowerchild via Trans Trenderz

Apollo Flowerchild via Trans Trenderz

AC: Understanding industry terms, knowing what kind of a team you need (or not), and even owning your music is essential to surviving as an artist, so it's great to hear that you offer that kind of support.

BC: We don't want the artist to ever be the only trans person in the room. It's essential to have another trans person there with them, so they're not alone if anything happens.

AC: Tell me about some of your artists! Do you focus on particular genres, or is it more general?

BC: It took us a little while to figure out who we wanted to work with, and the most important thing was learning to know when an artist was ready. The artist needs to be able to work with a team, and we need to make sure that collaboration will work before making the commitment. 

Right now, we have Apollo Flower Child and Heather Hills on the label. It's very important to me that the majority of the artists on the label are Black trans people. When it comes to who we work with as a team, there are a lot of white allies volunteering, which is great. We're working on expanding and looking into collaborations with different studios (especially in Montreal). This will allow us to have the infrastructure to work with even more artists.

AC: What would be the best way for an artist interested in working with you to reach out?

BC: We don't just work with artists that we sign, we work with many other people as well. We have a forum for Black and other trans musicians to connect and build this online community. 

Black trans musicians on that forum can ask for free services, whether that be mixing, mastering, graphic design etc. They can connect allies on the forum who offer their services for free. We use that forum to find the artists that we want to sign next since we can witness their growth and provide resources. So whenever we can help someone's career in a more committed way, we reach out to them to sign them. 

AC: How have your operations changed since COVID-19, and how are you readjusting?

BC: The only thing that's really changed about how we work is that we don't do as many live shows. But seeing as Steph is in new york, and I'm in Montreal, we've been working remotely forever. We've been Zoom professionals before it was cool.

AC: One of the most significant barriers to entry for musicians seems to be even knowing how to send a press email, or figuring out how to reach out, or how to make an EPK. We really want to provide advice & tips for anyone starting out and wonder what advice you would have.

BC: I'm a self-taught musician, and although it seems obvious, I would really recommend googling things all the time. How do I promote myself? Google what an EPK is and how to make them. There are so many resources online, even for free. That should be everyone's reflex, google EVERYTHING.

Steph: Something that I've found to be a  useful process is first defining the boundaries of your artistic direction. Figure out what that is, and draw a clear distinction between yourself and your brand. Find someone who's brand aligns with yours and take inspiration by adapting their methods to your brand.

Heather Hills via Trans Trenderz

Heather Hills via Trans Trenderz

AC: Do you think artists need to be online to be successful?

BC: Definitely, without question. Again, free resources. Everything that isn't online is often very expensive. Being online is the best and most resourceful way to get your music out and make yourself known.

Steph: Another thing that's interesting in that sentence is the word "success." What is success? What does it mean to you? It's almost like artists might feel pressure to have a particular definition of success that doesn't necessarily align with their personality or the music they like to make. 

I always say, think about what that means for you. Maybe for you, success means playing shows a few times a month at your local bar, and that's totally ok. 

AC: Wrapping up, is there anything you'd like to highlight, or is there any specific kinds of support that you're looking for from allies right now?

BC: If there are allies from Montreal who want to get involved, whether that be a studio or professionals that can help sign a few artists in Montreal, that would be great. 

ALLIES: Offer your services to Trans Trenderz here

Trans Trenderz

Website I Forum I Instagram

Blxck Cxsper

Instagram I Spotify

Apollo Flowerchild

Instagram

Heather Hills

Instagram

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From Beatmaking Workshops to Community Leaders: These are the Froot Origins

 

If you haven’t heard of Montreal’s Black, queer, hip-hop trio Strange Froots already, it’s about time you drop everything and check out their entire discography on Bandcamp… STAT. The group is comprised of the talented Mags aka Passion Froot, Naïka aka Dragon Froot, and Sage aka Star Froot. Next week, Strange Froots will be celebrating their 6th anniversary as a band with us by throwing a Digital Sleepover — and you’re all invited! Come play our favorite party games, learn trivia about local artists, and have an open discussion about the COVID-19’s impact on our community, as well as the contributions made by its Black artists! DJ Mollygum will also be playing the after party.

The event will be streamed online, and will also serve as a partial fundraiser, with the proceeds donated to the Black Lives Matter DC, Regis Korchinski-Paquet’s family, to Taking What We Need (a Montreal-based discretionary fund group for low-income trans women) and Also Cool Mag's Artist Emergency Fund. Janice Ngiam (of Sun Astronauts), has volunteered her talents and allyship all the way from Hong Kong. For every new donation 20$CAD or more, Janice will produce a short, personalized song about anything you want! Discover her music at www.janicengiam.com/music.html

Join the Froots this Thursday on Instagram from 5pm to 8pm for a Frootiversary Happy Hour, and get a taste of what's to come this Saturday!

We got the chance to catch up with the Froots to reminisce on their early beginnings, discuss their future aspirations, and hear their thoughts what work has to be done to make Montreal’s hip-hop circles more inclusive and safe for QTBIPOC folks. Check out our interview below!

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Strange Froots (from left to right: Mags, Sage and Naïka), photo by Didi M’bow

Also Cool: Before we begin, tell us who you are and about your individual artistic pursuits.

Mags aka Passion Froot: My name is Mags. I’m an illustrator, cartoonist and graphic artist by trade, as well as a beatmaker, singer-songwriter, MC and casual guitarist.

Naïka aka Dragon Froot: My name is Naïka, I’m a Haitian, queer, Black woman. I’m a singer-songwriter, a guitarist, a bassist, and an MC. I recently released my first solo album, Painted Imageries, this past January.

Sage aka Star Froot: Hello, I’m Sage! I'm a singer, songwriter, actor and producer. I am also a passionate linguist, studying Spanish and Mandarin. Learning languages is a really interesting and ceaseless artform to me. 

AC: Individually and collectively, how has music helped you learn and grow?

M: On an individual level it has helped me spiritually for as long as I can remember, producing (more so than writing) has somewhat helped me translate my journey to sound. It’s also helped me reconnect to my ethnic origins as a first-generation African-American; in learning how to sample, I’ve been able to reimagine classic songs my parents would play around the house, or that I would hear over the summers of my childhood visiting relatives. As part of a collective, I think I’ve been able to contribute the story-telling attributes of my instrumentals, as well as the eclectic sounds of our diaspora. 

N: Individually, music has helped me grow into who I am and explore every facet of what I am., [Music] has given me the ability to express myself in a way that can be scary, but at the end of the day, honestly. Collectively within Strange Froots, this band’s music has allowed me to step out of my comfort zone by pursuing artistic directions and musical styles that are not necessarily my go-to. The band keeps challenging the ways that I write, compose, and structure music, and I love that about Strange Froots.  

S: Music has given me a way to express myself creatively and honestly. As a dynamic introvert, I spend most of my time reflecting over socializing. Music has been a great conduit for me to both share who I am and bond with those in my circles. It’s how I found Mags and Naïka all those years ago. I can’t imagine life without music. If I don’t like the song, I’ll change it, but there are very few times where I’ll go for silence. 

 

AC: What are the Froot origins? How did your diverse creative backgrounds come together for the first time? 

M: At the time of our meeting (Spring 2014), I was in my last year at Concordia. I was VP Marketing and Communications for the then-named Hip Hop Heads Concordia, of which I am a co-founder; this was a revival of the university’s long-defunct hip-hop club. I had by this time already been acquainted with a few of Montreal’s hip-hop artists, and it’s through them that I was introduced to NoBad Sound Studio

N: The manager of NoBad Sound at the time wanted to do a “girl” workshop, ‘cause few of them were at the studio and few were seen in hip-hop in general. It’s through this that our diverse creative backgrounds came together. I came up with the name Strange Fruits (paying homage to Billie Holiday and Nina Simone) for our band, as we are all Black and know what the song talks about: it was very dear to me, to us. Then Mags came up with the spelling “froots,” like the cereal, ‘cause we’re all nerds like that and are all pretty “out there”... fashion and personality wise, we’re all very colourful. But it says a lot too: the “roots” within fROOTs, refers to our Black roots, and it is also a derogatory gay term that was reclaimed by the queer community; which includes all of us in this band.

S: I was the last to arrive. I went to NoBad interested in beatmaking workshops, when I met Mags and Naïka days later. We shared our musical taste and gauged that we all had very different musical backgrounds. As the alternative member of our alternative-chill-soul collective, I am influenced by rock, house, jazz, pop, film scores, musicals, i.e. eclectic. I was also part of a theatre troupe and sang in choirs growing up, so working together came very naturally 

Strange Froots (from left to right: Sage, Naïka and Mags), photo by Andrée-Anne Guy

AC: What is your creative process like as a collective, and how has this evolved over the years?

M: A lot of our collaboration these days (COVID withstanding) has happened digitally, sending beats, voice notes, guitar riffs and the like, due to ever-conflicting schedules. In the very early days, even after our first EP dropped, we would continue to meet up at NoBad and much of our collaborative efforts happened there. Then, you have songs like “Regular” that come about from very random inside jokes created well outside of the context of the band, and just from goofing around as friends.

N: OHHH child it has evolved! At first, we would all sit down together and write to a beat Mags or Sage produced, or a riff I played on the guitar. We held a lot of importance to composing all together in the same space and time, but it’s not always feasible and realistic. Now, we tend to write separately, propose something from one person who wrote, created a riff, laid down a beat and then the rest adds to it. We talk more openly about what we want to change, about directions of the sound. It’s literally a constant draft and constant back and forth within our capacities and availabilities, instead of depending on each other’s presence to finish a song. 

S: I think now a major difference, especially with our individual artistic pursuits, is that we create music with an understanding of if it’s for Strange Froots or for another passion project. If I can imagine Mags dropping a fierce 16 or Naïka working magic with her bass for example, then it’s for Strange Froots. It was easier in the beginning to put us all in one room for a few hours to create, but later became very unrealistic. 

AC: Since meeting through the NoBad Sound Studio workshops, do you feel that the Montreal hip hop scene has become more inclusive? In your view, what work has to be done to further grow hip hop spaces in this way?

M: In the 6 years of our existence, I’ve seen some slow, gradual efforts to not only include more cis women than they did at the time (because if we’re being honest that was their first hurdle). We’ve seen some kind of attempt at understanding and including the LGBTQ+ community. They’re not going to get it right all the time or on the first go, (some might even say there’s a  sense of pinkwashing and “you-go-girl”-ism), but I’d like to think that our group’s existence helped create more waves in that direction, especially in the Black community. 

N: Adding to that though, the Montreal hip-hop scene is VERY underground. The hip-hop that you see out there, that is being paid attention to, is mostly performed by white cis Francophone men. It completely disregards the Black and Latinx folks that laid the groundwork for hip-hop in Montreal, and the deeply ancestral history of hip-hop for Black folks. It’s our culture. In the last 10 years or so, Quebec suddenly “discovered hip-hop” from white kids, even though it’s been here for decades... So is it more inclusive to women? Meh, not really. We make our spaces. There needs to be a lot of work done for women in hip-hop and for queer folks. Hip-hop was made by marginalized folks who were Black and Brown: you have to include women and queer Black and Brown folks, not just the cis het straights, ‘cause they are marginalized as fuck. 

S: I agree, there’s still a lot of work to be done. There is hope – queer and black artists like Backxwash lighting the ground up – but when it comes to the hip-hop scene in Montreal, space is sparse and divided. White Francophones are still the dominant voices of hip-hop in Montreal unless the event is specifically curated to showcase queer and POC voices. Considering the origins of hip-hop as a tool for the marginalized and oppressed, it is crucial that more queer artists of colour are able to share their multifaceted truth and be on the mainstage. I hope we can get to a point where black and queer-owned venues exist and our music is not competing for airtime and spots in the margins. 

Strange Froots (from left to right: Naïka, Sage and Mags), photo by Kinga Michalska

AC: Beyond music and performances alone, Strange Froots has acted as a collective driving interdisciplinary collaboration in Montreal. How have you connected with the music community, and how has that had an impact on your outlook as artists and activists?

M: From experience alone, I’d say due to the varying types of shows we’ve been able to play, we’ve not only made some great friends and musical colleagues, but we’ve been able to connect them to each other in many ways. With amplifying other artists through our platforms and association came an organic sense of belonging, like, “some of us are synth artists and some of us do hip-hop and some of us are riot grrrls but fundamentally we want the same things.” I was able to adopt this mentality when I was approached to co-found the multidisciplinary winter festival Lux Magna in 2017, alongside certain members of the Suoni Per Il Popolo festival.

N: I’m a part of a collective that I I co-founded called Fruition. Fruition is by and for QTBIPOC, and ensures that we have the space to thrive and access the resources we need to survive, succeed and heal in spite of systemic racism, oppression, assimilation, colonialism. We create art/music events, workshops, panels with QTBIPOC folks within our community so they can tackle their artistry in a way that is safe and radical. Individually, that has a lot of impact on me to help me grow and feel even more secure in my identity, but has also helped me find tools to build within our community. 

S: I find activism goes hand-in-hand with hip-hop, since injustice is not too far behind. In our collaborations with The Rap Battles for Social Justice, we had opportunities to explore deep rooted issues in our society, like austerity, police brutality, and climate justice. It inspired me to become more politically informed and recognize the power of music to facilitate important discourse. We are all writing our own artist blueprint while also having to navigate the erasure of inclusive physical spaces to share our art. In Montreal, the helping hand comes from utilizing our network and own creativity. That’s why it’s crucial to stay connected and support each other. I think it’s great that many collaborators are people we can also call friends, but at the very least, are people who share our values. These are people that I want to see flourish, so my activism is about standing up in the face of injustice and also facilitating joy as a form of resistance.

 

AC: Now that we are coming up on your anniversary; what has been a defining moment in your band’s history, and what are some of your future aspirations as a group?

M: Not to be a total Leo rising about it, but I think our priorities and our individual scopes had to severely shift when I was made to leave Canada. Long story short, I had a few bureaucratic hiccups regarding my status in Canada, and so I was turned away at the border when I was returning from a home visit from Silver Spring, MD. A lot of things were put on hold, and I attribute a lot of my shortcomings in taking care of my status, to hyper-focusing on keeping the band afloat. I held an unhealthy amount of self-worth in what I was able to do for the community and how I was able to alleviate my bandmates’ workload (I was the only one done with school), it took me away from myself in some very detrimental ways, and I think we’ve finally reached a place where we see that clear as day, and are constantly working to not repeat the mistakes that lead to several kinds of pressure and burnout. I hope that our group can continue influence positive and progressive change in Montreal’s youth, to make our queer circles less racist, and the hip-hop scene less queer and transphobic overall, and I hope as more doors open for us, we can hold them up for our friends in the game.

N: A defining moment in our history was going to Senegal and finally seeing our community of QTBIPOC fam come together when we put on hip-hop performances for queers. For future aspirations, I want us to keep creating and finding ways to create for ourselves, as a way to sustain imagery and art within our community.

S: I would love for us to all be in the same place physically for longer than a week! Technology helps, but our first in-person rendezvous will be something. The most defining moment for me so far has been our trip to Senegal. The connections made there and the wisdom shared will last with me forever. If the fates allow, I would love to journey with the Froots again to another motherland. Ultimately, I wish for more growth, love and understanding and for us to keep doing the work we do. The journey has been incredible so far. I’d like to see how much further we can go.

Strange Froots (from left to right: Sage, Mags and Naïka), photo by Mariel Rosenbluth

Keep up with the Froots on their socials!

Strange Froots

Facebook | Instagram | Website

Mags

Facebook | Instagram | Soundcloud

Naïka

Facebook | Instagram | Bandcamp

Sage

Instagram

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