Nots – “Animal/Blackout” (2017)

“Animal” is a new recording of a song from their 2013 demo, before they added synth to their sound. It’s completely zany, KBD/Messthetics, and the addition of Alexandra Eastburn’s keys are droney/improv ambient synth. Reminds me of Urinals’ “I’m A Bug”, or Anorexia’s “Pets”, both “cult” releases proof of the unbridled playful creativity of punk’s beginnings.

“Blackout” is a new song. It appeared on the Live At Goner LP, but this here is a studio recording. The story is ominous, like it could be about alcohol, a lack of electricity, or a plain concussion. The emotional relief of screaming the word “Blackout!” follows other Nots anthems such as “Reactor!”, and “Decadence!”.

Limited to 300 copies, German import, purchase on Discogs, through Slowboy Records.

Sediment Club – Live In Montreal

Purveyors of underground rock noise, Sediment Club, performed a rare show in Montreal, on July 16, for Rock Fest (lol generic name). The bill also included Virginia weird-hardcore Buck Gooter, and local heavy noise quartet, Gashrat.

Jackie of Urochromes fame is also part of Sediment Club (with his childhood friends), and it was cool chatting about the underground scene for a short while. New Urochromes 7″ is out, it’s called Night Bully, and it’s terrifying noise, with a surprisingly New Wave remix on the flipside.

Neon – Neon Is Life (2017)

MRR Coordinator, extraordinaire curator, DIY activist, punk archivist, Grace Ambrose, has a new band called Neon. It’s a perfect mish-mash of 80’s post-punk and hardcore forms. The vocals are equally aggressive and playful, exuding timeless and eternal excitement mixed with desperation. In the same vein as UK’s Frau, with the ramshackle sound of Indiana’s CCTV. A really devolved Good Throb with no frills. Could be interesting to hear more recordings, or even a long-form LP.

The Submissives – Live at Snack N’ Blues

If you ever happen to chance upon Montreal’s The Submissives, you will notice something is definitely off in their music. The longing and heartbreak sounds medicated, if not sedated. It’s indie-pop at a degree removed from conventional. Most important is the mood it evokes. Not quite country, not quite folk, guitars that sound like they are dying, and a basic rhythmic pulse that almost doesn’t hold things together.

Their concept is also visual. Dressed in white, they make their entrance sometimes with male ushers,  one by one, with two lead singers, reciting fragments of love letters, and handing out invitations like a mock-wedding.

When the stars align, their choice of venue is unusual and splendid. Snack N’ Blues, the old mainstay in the Mile-End neighborhood of Montreal, before it went hipster, was one of the only venues who refused to enforce the no-smoking ban a few years after it came into effect. The old man working the door, is also the owner, and he hands out free candy (and cigarettes) to patrons, decorates the walls with blues and jazz icons, and maintains a pool table in the back for the old guard who doesn’t care about the music. There is hardly any space for a band to play. In the realm of minimal and off-kilter, Snack N’ Blues is it!

The band setup their gear right by the entrance, as if arranging a window display. The place filled up fast and care had to be taken to not trip over the musicians. A new guitarist was premiering that night (member of Guy Madonna), and quite frankly, it was a success! Hits such as “Betty Told Me” and “Do You Really Love Me?” along with new songs, carried everyone into the atmosphere of an old Southern bar in Memphis. Blues, country, folk, with a psychedelic tinge. It was a sweaty affair, especially with the suit I was wearing, and I made my way out into the cool night immediately after their set.

Mr. Airplane Man – Live At Atomic Cafe

Tara, drummer for Mr. Airplane Man, approached me to ask if I was at their previous show the year before. I said “No, this is my first time seeing you live” I posted a picture of their soundcheck and suddenly the notifications started pouring in. Chris from KLYAM asked “Say hi to Tara for me!” So I walked up to Tara and told her we had a mutual friend.

When the opening act, Gravel Route, performed their brand of classic blues rock tunes, I was dancing next to Tara who was similarly entranced moving to the beat, stomping her feet, howling and hollering. When the time came for her to get on stage and perform, she took me to the side and told me what she really thought about me. “You are awesome. Your energy is great. Thank you for coming.”

I couldn’t have asked for a better compliment, given by someone I truly admire. It made everything worth it, the long nights blasting “Red Light” till dawn, the cravings and longing for love, the hangover depression bouts, and even missing all the other shows in the city that night. I felt like I belonged in front of that stage, wilding out to the fuzzed out garage tunes of Margaret and Tara. Sorry for all the yelling but I was drunk, and happy.

Nots – “Violence” (2017)

It’s already been four years since Nots stumbled out the gate into an unsuspecting garage/lo-fi/indie underground music scene. From podcasts to radio, bar basements to festival stages, and the much coveted Opening Ceremonies at Gonerfest 2016 (exclusive footage coming soon), they haven’t changed one iota, and their sound is still as raw and surprising.

While most bands are content writing songs about gobbling down fast food items (ahem, Burger Records), Nots’ latest offering is a direct indictment of our political reality, but without the trends of juvenile identity politics (ahem, Downtown Boys). “Violence” is like an anthem of Bush-era military spending that Michael Moore forgot to include in his “Fahrenheit 9/11” documentary. Sounding equally distant (the dystopia-world of Derek Jarman’s “Jubilee”) and unmistakably current (I hear the word Syria), it temporarily forgoes electric guitar for an eerie synth-organ loop that recalls Southern church services and nuclear alarm sirens in equal measure.

Nots’ lyrics have constantly explored the dichotomy of the personal and the social. It’s a subtle achievement to have remained so consistently original in a market saturated with apolitical face-value superficial music. Nots reinstate artistry in a culture that has been secretly on life support for decades. Let’s hope the shock revives it.

Sneaks – It’s a Myth LP (2017)

Sneaks sounds like a minimalist ESG, bass-driven jams with a sprinkle of a-la-Fall repetition. “Inside Edition” seems like an apology for commercial ambition: “You pay with resistance / just get a commission” as it validates the quest for cash. Her whispery rapping style sounds like secret instructions for a mystical quest. She brushes melody on “Look Like That”, approaching a Stereolab chorus. On”Not My Combination” she gets playful with her inflections around the cavernous bass booms despite its angular moves.

“Pnbj” submits to its dancefloor ambitions with a subdued new wave urgency. This is where Sneaks stretches the potential of her minimalist style, as in the keyboard fugue of “With A Cherry On Top”. She sounds at her most balanced when incorporating spoken-word bridges in between melodies. “Future” sounds exactly like its title, as Sneaks ups the funk ante, recalling classic acts like Parliament and Zapp, but defining her own wave of intimate DIY abstract depictions.

Modernity weighs on Sneaks like Sisyphus’ rolling rock. A serious artist with a lot to say regarding the plight of modern aesthetics. Gradually carving out her space in music’s collective consciousness, I would turn to her music for a study of the tensions between dance, poetry, and live performance.

Milk Music – “Mystic 100’s” (2017)

I’m out of my territory here but I really dig this. I was expecting hardcore, but got instead drawn-out soul-hardcore with great tone on guitar feedback and a singer/songwriter with a pleading radio rock voice. Could have easily been generic rock noise, but sounds great, and emotional, like good music should.

Wow, am I inept or what? No frame of reference whatsoever (maybe 90’s grunge?), just digging the thorough basslines, guitar instrumentation and heart-on-sleeve vocals. Is this what Royal Headache apparently sounds like? No clue, but will run this one numerous times through the percolator and obtain great grain.

 

Pharmakon Artist Statement

She started to study trance states and equate her live performances to them. In trance states, music and the body are used to transcend the physical form and make contact with some outside force. In the live setting, she used sound and her body to create an exchange of energy and make contact with outside forces – humanity, empathy, the audience.

ARTIST’S STATEMENT:
Man is a rabid dog, straining at its leash of mortality with bared teeth. Snarling and clawing over each other, we aim to reach a higher ground to claim as our own. There are those who will attempt to exert power over others to attain it. They will sniff you out; lay claim over your body, your actions, your thoughts, your time. (How starkly human, so desperate for the sense of vantage over all versions of its own reflection!) Their aims are empty, because their power is a construct they created and gave back to themselves. They too are small and inconsequential. All people are only human and humans are only animals. The nature of existence and our sentience is chance, owing nothing to anything. Humankind is of no special significance to the universe. (Despite all our scrambling rejections, we cannot transcend all of our instincts — just animals, lost in a confused dream, where mankind is real and at the center of everything). We are each nothing but a single, short-lived cell in a vast organism which itself will one day die. If we accept that the only true claim sentience gives us is our tiny sliver of time, it opens us to revel in it, to make CONTACT. When we pick up on transmissions between the private rooms inside our heads and the flesh of our vessels, when thought escapes its isolation and is seen, heard and understood. When our mind uses the body in order to transcend and escape it! The moments of connection/communion/CONTACT, when the veil is for a brief but glorious moment lifted, and we are free. Empathy! EMPATHY, NOW!

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