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

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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.”

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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.”

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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.

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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.

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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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Premiere: Cyrus Jordan Sets the Tone for the Weekend with "Not My Flavour (Anymore)"

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Cyrus Jordan, photo courtesy of the artist

Though it’s getting colder in Canada (sigh, winter is coming), Vancouver-based artist Cyrus Jordan is turning up the heat with his new single “Not My Flavour (Anymore).” Jordan is well-versed in the world of bass, playing both stand-up and electric, and his commitment to groove shows in his first formal experiment in creating house music (and thank goodness because it’s about time we get up and dance after a long week!) Reminiscent of 90s neo-soul, Jordan tackles the timeless theme of heartbreak with a gentle touch, while making “Not My Flavour (Anymore)” bouncy, vibrant and wholly his own.

Press release:

Vancouver based artist Cyrus Jordan releases his first foray into house music with the single “Not My Flavour (Anymore).” As a bassist (stand up and electric!) Jordan creates bodacious vibrations that groove with influences from D'Angelo, Channel Tres, Devonte Hynes​.

Jordan works closely with members of beloved group Schwey and has come into his sound through previous single ”Stretch” with drums by Alex Bingham of Winona Forever.

“Not My Flavour (Anymore)” offers dreamy, nostalgic energy as Jordan recognizes that he is no longer in a healthy relationship. The track is spacious but groovy, as warm synths and tasty bass lines weave around Jordan’s soft vocal. The track is inviting and an exciting glimpse into Jordan’s versatile musical vocabulary.

As Jordan says: “the track was an older song that I wrote on an old piano on Salt Spring Island while I was in a relationship I realized wasn't healthy for me anymore. It was one of the most fluid songwriting experiences I’ve ever had and it transformed really well into a produced track."

Stayed tuned for more of Cyrus Jordan’s grooves, he will be releasing many more tracks and videos in the coming months.

Cyrus Jordan

Instagram | Soundcloud | Spotify

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

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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. 

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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. 

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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.  

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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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Elijah Wolf Shares Tender New Track "At Times / At Night" feat. Photay & Josh Jaeger

Today Also Cool Mag fav Elijah Wolf shares his new track “At Times / At Night" featuring featuring Photay & Josh Jaeger (of Angel Olsen, Fleet Foxes). The single is off his upcoming album Brighter Lighting (produced by Sam Cohen), which will be out February 26 via Trash Casual Records.

“At Times / At Night" is the perfect melody for cozying at home on a chilly evening, drinking hot chocolate, and reminding yourself that you deserve the love and empathy that you give others. In short, it’s all about those warm and fuzzy feels.

“It’s a song about simply sitting still to observe the world around you, in a life that can move so fast," explains Elijah. "I wrote it one Sunday afternoon while watching a rain storm through my window. It was a rare moment where everything felt still, & I felt completely present in my life. I wrote this song as a reminder to always take the time to be still, & to look around & observe."

"After the first album sessions with Sam Cohen, I left for a month long tour with my dear friend Photay. Throughout those 4 weeks we had the chance to listen to the rough mixes & early studio versions on long drives through the different epic landscapes of the US & Canada. When we got home, we went straight back into the studio to finish up. This one features Photay on Buchla Synthesizer."

For fans of early Fleet Foxs, Wilco, and Hovvdy, this one’s for you. Listen to At Times / At Night" below.

Premiere: Magi Merlin's Walking to the Dep

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

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

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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.

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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.

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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"

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“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. 

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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"

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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.

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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.

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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: "I WANNA SEE WHAT DEATH IS LIKE" by Don't do it, Neil

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Self portrait

Happy Friday the 13th, Friends! What a perfect day to premiere a haunting dream pop album looking at death, mental health, and exorcising personal demons. Whew! Philadelphia-based Don’t do it, Neil, also known as Mabel Harper, is one of the original members of Grimalkin Records, the music & zine collective and record label raising money and supporting social justice & civil rights organizations. This release tackles heavy subjects and its production delivers them with a perfect balance of sparkling pop and brutal horror.

Press release:

Harper explores mental illness, grief, and denial on I WANNA SEE WHAT DEATH IS LIKE, her newest album and most candid work-to-date. Through haunting production, irresistible pop hooks, and violent contrasts, IWSWDIL broadens Don't do it, Neil's creative horizons while delving frankly into the circumstances surrounding Harper's real-life suicide attempt, and exorcises personal demons along the way.

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Digital only proceeds support Harper's future projects.

Tape proceeds got to The Okra Project. "The Okra Project is a collective that seeks to address the global crisis faced by Black Trans people by bringing home cooked, healthy, and culturally specific meals and resources to Black Trans People wherever we can reach them."

Lathe proceeds go back to Grimalkin’s label and mutual aid fund.

Watch the video shot and directed by Mabel Harper below:

Warning Flashing Images** Don't do it, Neil - Orpheus from the album I WANNA SEE WHAT DEATH IS LIKE, out November 13, 2020 on Grimalkin Records. https://do...

credits

released November 13, 2020

Produced, written, arranged, and performed by Mabel Harper as Don't do it, Neil. Recorded, mixed, and mastered by Mabel Harper in a bedroom in Philadelphia, PA.
Artwork and layout by Mabel Harper. Lathe cut photograph by Richard Dunn.

Premiere: Alicia Clara Debuts Ethereal Video for "Five"

Montreal’s new favourite dream pop queen Alicia Clara debuts her video for “Five” today via Hot Tramp Records. This single follows up Alicia’s first-ever release ‘Closing Time at the Gates’ in February 2020, and is off her forthcoming EP Outsider/Unusual. For fans of Helena Deland, Weyes Blood, and TOPS, Alicia Cara might just be your new shoegaze fave.

Shimmering in a halo of light, and surrounded by lush greenery, Alicia sings to the human condition and to failed relationships. As Alicia describes, ‘it is a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy about having finally forgiven past hurt, all the while still being unable to let myself feel anything out of fear of getting hurt again.’

On the topic of the stunning video by Aaliyeh Afshar, Alicia says, “I wrote Five after waking up from a strange dream during the first lockdown, and the song was written based on my state of mind at that time rather than on a narrative anecdote. To match the nature of the track, I was envisioning something simple but oneiric for the video, shot in nature. Aaliyeh then translated this into her own vision. In maybe a little bit of a sad way, I find that the solitary vibe of the video matches the current mood around the world too!”

Watch Alicia Clara’s “Five” below

Alicia Cara

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

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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.  

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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. 

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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

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

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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. 

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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.

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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.

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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. 

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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.”

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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.

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Messkina by Victoria Gravel

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

Keep up with Messkina

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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.

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Photo: @victoriagravel

Hair: @iceboxhair

Nails: @jazzzynailz

MUA: @crazycattie_makeup

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Healing Through Horror: Maryze Talks Childhood Obsessions with the Ghoulish & Gruesome; Shares Halloween Playlist

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Maryze press photo for single “Squelettes” ft. Backxwash & Margo | Credit: BAD/GOOD, Solomon Krause-Imlach

Horror has played an important part in my life for as long as I can remember. 

Growing up in the late 90’s/early 00’s, spooky culture was at its peak. Goosebumps books covered my shelves, Are You Afraid of the Dark? and Buffy the Vampire Slayer were on constant rotation on YTV, and movies like Scream brought about a resurgence of the horror genre. I, myself, could not get enough, and thought everyone else shared my love for the macabre.

I quickly understood there are two types of people in this world: those who love horror, and those who can’t possibly understand how anyone could love horror. Kids nicknamed me “scary French girl,” as I was the only French kid in my neighbourhood, and because I compulsively told scary stories to anyone who would listen. I really thought everyone was just okay with this, until kids started to tell their parents and I got a “talking-to.” My cousin recently told me I caused her lifelong nightmares. 

This fascination naturally evolved into an obsession with horror films. I consumed anything I could get my hands on and became addicted to the experience. What I like about scary movies is that, no matter how bad they are, they at least make you feel something. Whether it is fear, disgust, or just general disbelief, you rarely walk away unaffected. When it is done well, the genre teeters between reality and absurdity: offering both escapism and terrifyingly relatable themes. 

Horror is also a pretty great way of dealing with trauma.

I’ll try to keep it light, but many folks I know who’ve experienced trauma and anxiety gravitate towards certain aspects of horror. Whether it’s gothic home decorating, listening to metal, practicing witchcraft, or binging spooky shows; there seems to be some comfort in darkness. Darkness that we curate for ourselves. 

When real life resembles a nightmare, surrounding yourself with horror that you choose can feel empowering. Finding safety in movies designed specifically to send you into fight-or-flight mode seems contradictory, but it’s a heightened experience in a controlled environment. You get to say when it starts and stops, and conquer the boogeyman.

This year sucks, but they can’t take spooky season from us! Here is a playlist of 20 of my favourite Halloween anthems for your Zoom parties/full moon rituals/presidential hexes. It features local witches Backxwash and La Fièvre, cute memorable classics, and self-indulgent faves (if you don’t know why Fall Out Boy is on this list, please watch their music video for “A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More Touch Me.”)

Take care, and do whatever you’ve gotta do to stay alive in the giant horror movie that is 2020.

Maryze is a bilingual alt-pop artist based in Montreal, originally from Vancouver. Her stormy-sweet world blends haunting, introspective lyrics with contagious electronic beats, offering a refreshing voice with fiery honesty.

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Jak Lizard's "Orange Tracksuit" is a Ray of Sunshine

Via Jak Lizard

Energetic, upbeat and impossible not to dance to, Jake Lizard has released his latest track “Orange Tracksuit” off his upcoming EP “Humphrey.” It’s the kind of song you put on in the morning to help you get out of bed when you really don’t want to, and ends keeping you company while you make your coffee, get dressed for the day, and take your morning commute (whether that’s on the bus to work, or to your living room home-office).

“I love this song. When this one was completed in the studio, I remember looking at Ivan, and not saying anything, just silently acknowledging how much excitement I was feeling. Life is about balance. This song is about after you’ve taken a moment to reflect, where you go next. “Orange Tracksuit” tells the story of someone finding the larger than life joy that can come from a concrete object, like an Adidas tracksuit in your favorite color. ‘I tried it on, I swiped my card,’ and then was transcended to my happy place. It’s a “look good, feel good” track” -Jak Lizard

Listen to “Orange Tracksuit” below:

Jak Lizard

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Premiere: Night Lunch's Spooky & Sparkly Video for "Damien"

A little spooky, a little sparkly, Night Lunch’s video for “Damien” is here via Celluloid Lunch Records. Infused with glossy neon 80’s vibes, “Damien” is perfectly reminiscent of Halloween-themed high school dances. Also, we love nothing more than a killer synth solo! The track is off their latest album “Wall of Love,” which we hopes serves as the next coming-of-age horror flick soundtrack.

The members of Night Lunch have been contributing to the Montreal DIY scene for the better part of the last decade, manifesting first as Baked Goods and The Marlees. Now as Night Lunch, their sound is retro-futurist; emerging from the lo-fi mud to reveal a shimmering gem of pop immortality with the release of Wall of Love. The nostalgia of 80's synth ‘n keys are a definite inspiration for this group, but unlike many acts that seek to revive that trend, Night Lunch comes from a place of timeless pop sensibility.

Watch Night Lunch’s video for “Damien” below

A Liminal Conversation with Swaya

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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.

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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

Oddysseys Debut Lyric Video for "Body Heat"

Via Oddyssey’s lyric video for Body Heat

Your favourite post-punk band Oddysseys is back again with a colourful and dynamic lyric video for their latest release Body Heat.

If the song alone wasn’t enough, the video is the perfect encapsulation of wanting to dance in a dark room with neon lights at your favourite band’s show. The cascading, angular guitar and energetic drums are paired with bright colours and gritty textures that make your emotions surge. Wow, can you tell we miss live music?

The video includes footage captured on Oddysseys' 2019 tour of the northeast, along with a number of shows they've played in Los Angeles since then. All of the footage was shot and edited by founding members of the band Paul DiRico and Christian Treon. 

Watch the lyric video for Body Heat below

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Black Folks Don't Swim? on Slut Island, the DC Creative Scene & Motherhood

Black Folks Don’t Swim? is a soulful Black music machine from space that must be pronounced with the upswing inflection common to any great question pondered by minds of the time. Led by a core ensemble of BlaQueers, their music floats through a myriad of liberating sonic traditions including Blue note jazz, polyrhythmic future funk, Shout! and the Neo Soul of Rhythm and Blues.

Based within the DC Metro area, their soulful arrangements resonate in venues where artistic expression lives and breathes and they collectively continue to expand their magnetic energy locally globally. Black Folks Don’t Swim? is not a statement, rather an intentional prompt to examine the thought processes and conditioning of popular beliefs and the power structures that be.

We caught up with their singer Kailasa to learn more about the band and their upcoming Slut Island performance.

This interview was conducted over Zoom and was condensed and edited for clarity.

Malaika Astorga for Also Cool: Tell us a bit about who you are, what you do, and maybe a bit about like the music/creative scene that you're involved in with where you're from.

Kailasa for Black Folk Don't Swim?: My name is Kailasa. I grew up in DC, and I pretty much grew up in all art scenes. I would say mostly theatre, the umbrella of theatre and performing. I went to a performance arts high school, Duke Ellington, and got to know different theatre branches, which led me to want to perform more.

I've been in a band for the past three years. For a while, I had a vision of jamming or having a band that was mostly femme or queer led. That manifestation came in 2017. Having this band has been everything that I would want for it to be. I'm also learning that I don't necessarily fit in a genre. The band itself is like that space music. It's sound effects and soul.

Also Cool: That's so beautiful. I always find it so interesting when people have different mediums that come together into one.

I know you wanted to talk about your relationship with creativity. I'm really interested in how creativity has been in your life in different forms throughout your life. Where are you at with it now, with the band and also yourself personally?

Kailasa: When I was younger, creating came from my mom. Her influence came from the music she brought in and whatever she exposed us to, including plays and productions. So we really got to see behind the scenes of how everything is put together. That brought out my wanting to arrange and create things.

It really started with like Barbie dolls. I had a bookcase of Barbie dolls and layouts, and I'd arrange them all in scenes. It's funny because now I'm starting to explore set design. When I feed my curiosities, I get to see how they blossom in other forms.

AC: Do you feel like your creativity comes from one world that you're expanding on? Or do you feel like your different mediums are like pretty separate from each other?

Kailasa: Everything blends. I feel like I haven't really had a big debut project or anything like that. And if I did, it would be just be everything. Poetry, song, sounds...

Even in set design, I get inspired. Like when I did this set design project over the summer, I also wanted to be a director and the costume person. When it's a project that somebody is inviting me to do, and it's more specific for them, then, you know, I have to channel their vision.

AC: That's so fun that you're just like inspired by everything you do, and you want to do more. Is your job creative, or do you keep your creative work and like your "work" separate? How do you keep yourself from burning out or feeling uninspired?

Kailasa: Hmm. I like to practice yoga, and really whatever calls to me at that moment. But if I have a specific goal, I know that I have to research something and get it under my belt. But for the most part, if I'm feeling uninspired or low, I'll do something I like, or I'll go somewhere I've never been before. I went to a vineyard a couple of weeks ago with some friends, which was a refresher.

I’ve been a mom for about nine years now and this has altered the way I move about in the world. I’ve made up my mind to pursue what makes me happiest and go where spirit guides me - in part due to observing my mother’s choices and  taking a different path. My mother sacrificed her dreams and creativity thinking that would make her children’s lives better. Unfortunately that caused an imbalance in her and led to disease. 

Making a way for my creative expression to sustain me has been so deeply rewarding and so worth it. I love that my daughter is able to see me invest in all sides myself. 

AC: I was going to ask you where do you get your inspiration? Both from like music and then otherwise.

Kailasa: Inspiration for music comes from life experiences and relationships. One day I'll develop some abstract conceptual lyrics or something, but right now, it's just facts.

I might jazz it up a little bit or, you know, it'll be about pleasure or having a good time. Enjoying yourself, encouraging yourself, whatever. But it really comes from real-life experiences.

AC: Are there any artists or albums that you listen to constantly or always go back to?

Kailasa: Stevie Wonder is always somebody that I can connect my heart and mind to. I also like discovering new art. Well, new to me. Becca Stevens and Mitski are some examples.

AC: What is your performance like with your band? What do your performances usually look like and, and feel like to you? How has that changed since quarantine?

Kailasa: Our bass player came up with a good description of how our performance is. Sometimes it feels like a wild car ride with all the windows down. We'll all be falling out of the car, and our drummer will pull us back in.

AC: What can we expect from your upcoming performance?

Kailasa: It's a pre-recorded session in this house called the House of Secrets. We have two backup singers, which we've never had before. It's an older house in DC used mostly to gather artists, DJs, and musicians, and they have a jam room upstairs.

AC: What, what is, what does personal success mean to you right now?

Kailasa: It means being content. Sometimes it's simply like getting up out of the bathwater. And then acknowledging that, you know, I feel good. Defining success for yourself is it a big thing. Loving yourself is is successful.

AC: What do you have planned with the band?

Kailasa: We're focusing on mixing our music and getting it published. We also gotta raise some funds for the people working on our album. So we're gonna come up with some merchandise and start promoting that.

Catch Black Folks Don’t Swim?’s performance with Slut Island this Thursday.

Black Folks Don’t Swim?

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MILLY Debuts Video for "Star Thistle Blossom" feat. Ketchup Jesus

Via Dangerbird Records

Ketchup Jesus debuts as a shoegaze star in MILLY's latest music video for their song Star Thistle Blossom (Dangerbird Records). 

MILLY is a four-piece shoegaze band from Los Angeles. Their slow and fuzzy sound, balanced with vocals, are led by singer/guitarist/songwriter Brendan Dyer, with Spencer Light on guitar, Yarden Erez on bass, and Zach Capitti Fenton on drums. For fans of Spencer Radcliffe, Slowdive, and Sparklehorse, MILLY is the kind of music you listen to when you're reminiscing about the summertime and missing your friends. 

In their video for Star Thistle Blossom (directed by Justice Vaughn Ott), we follow the journey of a white t-shirt that gains stardom via an accidental Jesus-shaped ketchup stain. 

On the origins of the song, Dyer says, "I wrote it back in 2017 when I was working at Whole Foods. I was stocking honey on the shelf and was intrigued by Star Thistle Blossom honey. There's a lot of health superpowers in honey, and I like the theme of tying in being healthy with feeling strong mentally. The chorus is an acknowledgment to understanding loss but having hope in something and that it always gets better. Even if that's not true, it still feels helpful."

Watch the video for Star Thistle Blossom out now.

Carmen DeLeon's Volverás (Prod. Tainy) is an Ode to Owning Your Self-Worth

Via Capitol Records

Growing up as a Mexican-Canadian, I listened to a lot of Spanish music at home, but would rarely hear any on the radio or my friends' mix CDs.

It has only been in the past few years that I've been discovering more and more indie Spanish music and reggaeton that has crossed over into the mainstream. Artists like Rosalía, Kali Uchis, and now Carmen DeLeon provide the Spanish-speaking and bilingual representation I wish I had all those years. 

Via Capitol Records

In case you haven't heard of her yet, Carmen DeLeon is the 19-year-old singer who took The Voice by storm. We were lucky enough to be invited to her press conference hosted by Universal Music Group’s 1824 to learn more about Carmen and her career. 

Now signed to Capitol Records and relocated to the US to make her debut; she's making waves with her latest single, Volverás. The track was produced by Tainy (the artist behind Card B's I Like It and countless other reggaeton hits), who was one of Carmen's dream collaborators. 

Via Capitol Records

Carmen told us that the track is an anthem for knowing your self-worth and not being afraid to set the boundaries you need to take care of yourself. She said she was proud to share her story with this song and is proud to be bringing bilingual Latina representation to mainstream pop/reggaeton. 

Listen to Volverás, out now. Watch the video below.