Emerging from what seems like one of the most universally difficult winters, the feeling of warm sun beaming on your cheeks as you walk down snowless pavements, seeing people making cheery smalltalk on the corner, the sparkling sound of birds chirping in the branches above, it’s hard not to have a little spring in your step. A bit of jazz in your strut. Heck, maybe you even divert from your designated path when you go on today’s silly little walk. The swinging electro percussion of SKB04, the latest album from Montreal producer and DJ, Skinnybones, is the soundscape for that glitter in your eye, that pep in your walk, in hopes of brighter days ahead.

Working under the alias of Skinnybones, Léon Lo (he/him) has been involved in the city’s underground music scene since the early 2000’s, releasing numerous electronic projects on his label, Skitracks, and many others, including Well Rounded Records, the Dimseniya compilation by Friends for Friends, and on La Rama Dubs with YlangYlang. Skinnybones also hosts monthly radio shows on La Face B and n10.as and notably boasts two MUTEK performances (in 2011 & 2018), among many other local events.

SKB04 is a delightfully bubbling selection of hardware jams compiled over the past four years, referencing classic techno and electro sounds, tinged with a sunny swing. We talked Bell Biv DeVoe snares, the Rave as a living organism, and how to keep the dance music community alive through Pandemic Part II in the interview below.

In the words of the artist himself: World-wide raving folx, hold tighter for days brighter.

Maya Hassa for Also Cool: The smooth brightness of the opening track of SKB04 feels like emerging for that first sunny walk in March, when spring is in the air and in your step, and you have the sudden urge to buy flowers and smile at everyone you see. You mention optimism, hope, and rebirth amid round two of “pandemonium” spring - what was your mood going into writing these jams?

Skinnybones: The tracks on SKB04 are quite old already, and predate the pandemic. I’ve tracked a lot over the years and accumulated a large backlog of recordings, from which I sequenced this release. I was meaning to put out a follow-up to my last cassette for some time, but things kept getting in the way. Then the pandemic sent all the rigid structures around me into free-fall, which opened me up to reevaluating my priorities, making time for things that were important to me, and spending time inhabiting my inner-world.

While I feel like that was a really valuable gift, I’m burnt-out like everyone else in town - and the thought of us having to sacrifice another summer is gut-wrenching. I wanted to assemble an album that wouldn’t play into despair, but wouldn’t be completely delusional in its optimism, either. I hope it can lift people’s spirits, while still acknowledging the challenges of the times.

MH: It's noticeable throughout the album, but especially in the second half, that the electro patterns groove with a unique swing. Even when an acid bass-line comes in on “Cold Snap,” the track has a jazzy quality to it. You called it “skewed jack swing.” How would you describe your musical inspiration for this album?

SKB: Skewed jack swing happened when I hurried to the studio to tap out a Bell Biv DeVoe snare roll, playfully recorded it, got over the novelty, and started world-building around it in earnest. I’m a very big fan of free jazz music, and though the similarities between it and dance music may seem few, the way musical motifs are combined outside the constraints of rhythm and harmony in free jazz informs a lot of my music. In a way, this is also reflective of skewed jack swing, taking a familiar setup that could easily fall into pastiche and bending it so that it becomes something unintended, unexpected, and true to itself.

MH: What is your creative process when making a track — do you tend to improvise?

SKB: I almost always have one starting point in mind, be it a drum pattern, a melody or a sample I’d like to use. I’ll lay that down first, then start building up elements around it until I have enough blocks to play with. That will usually be within the first hour. Then I’ll spend a considerably longer time just vibing the hell out. I have a hardware setup, so it’s me improvising, twiddling knobs and pushing buttons, probably making pamplemousse faces and breathing really hard the whole time. When I’ve gotten that out of my system, I have a good idea of the elements that work and the ones that are clutter, so I cut the fat and streamline it. I then work out an outline of the song structure, which usually leaves ample room for noodling, then record one take of a controlled jam, which I later trim down.

MH: “Namur” makes me miss emerging from a dark tunnel at 7am with amen breaks still ringing in my ears. In what ways have you been staying hopeful for the return of the dance music scene (if at all) throughout the past year's lockdowns?

SKB: I actually wrote a Medium piece a little while ago about how I miss going out dancing. I think if we allow ourselves to accept that raving may not come back as the romanticized image that we have of it in our minds, there is more room for hope. To me, raving isn’t only about dancing in a club, rubbing sweaty shoulders with strangers to loud music—though that sounds about as close to paradise as anything right now—it’s about being part of a larger living organism.

What can constitute a living organism is actually quite varied and we don’t necessarily have to stick to a venue + sound system + DJ + dancers formula. There might be countless other ways for the rave to exist which may or may not include physical proximity. I’m keeping fingers crossed for “may include,” and hope it’s soon, but if that’s not the case, I’m still totally down to put my body, my mind, and my time to contribute to keeping the rave going in a larger sense.

MH: Could you elaborate on what being part of a “living organism” means to you? Is it the experience of a unified community, the sense of solidarity brought upon by a shared emotional experience, maybe even the physical sense of interconnection or anonymity brought upon by dancing together? A combination of it all?

SKB: Apart from music, people, venues, and lighting, a rave is also made up of less readily-identifiable things like frequencies, bodies, pressure systems, secretions, intelligence, chemicals, trajectories, impulses, breath, blood, emotions, energy. All of these things are variable, and every one of them acts on and influences every thing else. If a tune I love comes on and I start dancing my heart out, that will definitely affect how the person next to me, who's never heard it before, receives it. All that goes back to the DJ and acts on what they do next, and how they do it.

At the same time, if I had a terrible meal before going out and that same tune comes on when I get to the rave, but this time I feel miserable and just want to crawl into a corner and be left alone, I will act on the rave in a completely different manner, and the experience might end up going in another direction entirely. So, because every little thing is tied together, I consider the rave to truly be a living organism.

MH: That response makes me want to capitalize the word “Rave,” so I’ll do it here. Do you have anything specific in mind when you mention alternative ways for the Rave to live on?

SKB: If we see how easily things from what we consider outside the rave can have an impact on what happens inside it, like the bad meal example I gave, we can also start to see how things from what we consider within the rave can impact things outside of it. An easy image is the low thumping pulse you can hear when crossing the street to get to the venue, and the rush of excitement it can provoke in you while you're technically not even there yet — or how that same sound is perceived by the people living down the block. Bearing all that in mind, inside and outside start to not be such important distinctions anymore, and what we think of as the rave's boundaries start to get blurry. So maybe I don't need to physically see the DJ in order to be part of the rave. Maybe I don't need to have my head in the bassbin of a speaker. Maybe it's my speaker at home, or a set of headphones in the forest, or VR goggles, or butterflies in my stomach when thinking of a song, a place, or someone.

MH: You have a vast discography, going back to your first self-release in 2017, spanning a longtime involvement in Montreal's music scene, which includes two live MUTEK performances and multiple festivals and party series. What has your experience been like as an independent artist — do you prefer to self-release versus working with a label?

SKB: To be honest, my self-promotion game has nothing on my artistic output. I’m not a very outgoing person, so I haven’t always secured the good connections. Because of that, and because I’m not very real-world goal-oriented when it comes to my music, I’m much more comfortable in self-initiated frameworks, be they releases or parties. I should also acknowledge that I’ve been surrounded by talented and gifted people throughout my music-making years, and that I’ve ridden on a lot of coattails, and benefitted from a lot of energy outside of my own. Nothing I’ve done has been self-initiated in the strictest sense.

I have also had the good fortune to have people from the world at large show an interest in my endeavors, and they’ve only been good experiences up to now. I’m always up for more! However, I have a day job and a small family, so I really prefer going at my own pace.

MH: Where can our readers find you (if you're hosting any streams, live shows, online performances, etc)?

SKB: I don’t have any shows lined up right now, but I host a monthly radio show, Sober Ravers Union, which airs every fourth Wednesday on La Face B . I mix records for an hour or two, and usually have mixes from guests of the non cis-white-het-dude-DJ persuasion. I also co-host another monthly radio show with my partner YlangYlang, Heavy Metal Parking Lot, which airs every fourth Saturday on n10.as. That show focuses on experimental music, found sounds and field recordings. Also, I used to put out a free download bootleg every month on my Bandcamp page. I may get around to doing that again, so that might be a good place to look!

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