D.Blavatsky’s New Single “FUK” Provides a Jaw-Clenching and Purifying Experience

 

D.Blavatsky by Feng Ish

Raw, tormenting, and cathartic – just some of the terms one might use when describing Montreal-based DJ, producer, and artist D.Blavatsky’s newest release “FUK.” This single emerges as part of their forthcoming album YOUR CHOICE, which will be released on November 11. Its inception stems from the symbiosis of D’s experience with the Calgary punk scene in their teen years, their active role in the Montreal electronic music scene, and the acute solitary reality of the pandemic years spent in their parents’ basement recording music.

From the fragmentary nature of the music video to the album’s themes of longing and desire, my conversation with D last week provides a glimpse of their complex artistic identity. 

From a Calgary goth-punk band vocalist-drum-machinist to an established Montreal DJ

D’s musical origins are rooted in the Calgary noise-punk scene, which they became part of during their teenage years. They explained that the “...big shifts [happened] when [they] started hosting a show at CJSW,” a local college radio station. From there, their musical interest intensified, and began shifting away from punk, noise, and instrumental productions to more electronic ones.

Another memorable moment stems from when they were 19 and formed a band, Torture Team, with three of their best friends. Torture Team was a goth-punk band, and D played the drum machine and served as the vocalist. They released one self-titled tape. As they spoke about it, D’s eyes were twinkling: “I really, really recommend that everyone is in a band at least once in their life,” they explained. “That was a really special time in my life. I look back on it with a lot of love and gratitude.”

A year later, they would arrive in Montreal with two of their bandmates, a move that would mark a turning point in their artistic and musical career.

D.Blavatsky by Feng Ish

“It was once I created the single “FUK” that I realized everything I had created previously was completely beside the point of what I was trying to do. And I scrapped that entire album.”

D began writing and creating the single “FUK” about three years ago. At that point, they had completed a draft of the whole album, composed of 15 pieces, which they discarded when they finalized the single that changed their vision of the album as a whole. The song, which was “mostly just a mistake,” as they explained, led to profound revelations.  “[I realized] that this is what I’m trying to communicate…I just felt very close to the language I [was] trying to create.”

“But this track really changed everything for me, because so much of this album was a learning curve of me just learning how to use digital production tools.”

This track was a turning point in D’s creative process in making the album. “I just felt inspired in a different way,” they explained. Throughout the album creation process, they began to move away from hardware production to digital, Ableton production. Their intentions also shifted: in the first version of the album, they said they felt that they were catering to some kind of audience or in a way they “had to,” so that it might appear more palatable.

But in creating “FUK,” they ruptured these mental standards. “[It] was a very pivotal moment, because it really showed me that it’s like, ‘okay, you can communicate.’” Going further, they explained that, as an artist, it is generally expected that you are “...reflecting on what perspective [you are] trying to communicate," or asking yourself why you are unique. Yet this kind of thinking doesn’t fit with their artistic process or experience. “This idea of creating a timeless work of art… I never cared about that. If my work doesn't necessarily age well within the broader cultural landscape, that's beside the point for me. I'm just trying to communicate something somehow.”

“Yeah, and “FUK” really just was like, holy shit. ‘I can do it.’ I think it was just really reaffirming…this track just embodies everything…I have something that I want to say and express.”

The creation is representative of a particular time – much of it was developed during the pandemic. The single–and, more broadly speaking, the album–seek to illustrate the complexity of desire, longing, and vulnerability within capitalist structures. On a more personal level, the works represented an exploration of a certain vulnerability they previously struggled to express.

Over a period of two years, D barely saw anyone – they said it was about eight months after they had burrowed themselves in their parents’ basement that they saw someone outside for the first time. And yet, this period of solitude was also a transformative moment for them: “The pandemic and this album was very much a metamorphosis for me, who I was when I made it.”

“[YOUR CHOICE is] about longing,  it's about desires in the most primal sense, like sexual desire, physical desire […] I'm getting my head nailed into the wall.”

D.Blavatsky by Feng Ish

Vocals, digital music, and a stream of consciousness

When listening to “FUK,” one element that grasps the listener are the vocals. Blending into the digital components of the song, one feels drawn into the destabilizing and intimately vulnerable mood that the vocals embellish. When I was preparing my interview questions, one of the things I was curious about was the intentions behind incorporating vocals, something which, unlike other genres, is not so common in experimental electronic music.

To begin, there is the process of creating the very content of the vocals. “FUK,” along with other songs on the album, often involves deciphering gibberish – quite literally. D explained to me that what they often do, including for this single, is “...create scratch vocals where [they] play around with cadence and syllables and tempo” of a digital production. “[I] just say random gibberish. And then I record that and then try to decipher the gibberish itself.”

When creating the song in their parents’ basement, they could never sing the vocals as loudly as would be featured in the final version. The final recording ended up happening in the studio of their good friend Keïta Saint, a producer and voice engineer, living in NDG. In a single, last-minute take before the curfew of noise complaints, the vocals were recorded: describing the moment of the recording, they explained that “...you could feel the static in the room.” D offered to do another take, but “...Keïta was just like ‘no, this is fucking it, you will never get a better take.’”

The music video accompanying “FUK” has its own story. D’s vision of the video was first situated in a cave: running through a cave, feeling claustrophobic, with a light constantly out of reach. Yet as they needed to adapt to the environment they were in, director Axel Zavala helped create a video that translated D’s vision with the single.

The creation itself went by fast. Axel, who had been working on other projects, connected with D right before they headed back to Montreal. In just two days, they went into the woods in the night, armed with a GoPro and camcorder. With ten hours of footage, they were able to create a visual embodiment of the disorienting and stimulating nature of the piece.

Montreal, the rave scene, and moving forward

Throughout our conversation, it was clear that the Montreal electronic music scene continues to significantly influence D’s art – both as a producer and DJ. Being a raver has been a consistent and essential part of who they are. “[Raving] has pretty much been my life for the last five years… it is the primary way that I develop social relationships with people, and that I maintain the social relationships I have… [it’s] a sense of connection and expression.”

Once D arrived in Montreal and became involved with the collective Cyberia, something of a community became evident to them. Whereas a mix of social anxiety and dysphoria had made their teen years unstable and difficult, the engagement they have found in Montreal’s rave scene has been a way to come to appreciate and validate themself. “I learned how to celebrate my body. And I learned all of the beautiful things that my body could do for me and how to express [myself] and be present. I think that was [about] being present in my body in a positive way, in a way of celebration.”

YOUR CHOICE by D.Blavatsky

Moving forward, they look forward to continuing as a DJ, producer, and organizer in the Montreal electronic music scene. After living through the metamorphosis of the pandemic as well as visiting some Europe’s techno hotspots, D explained that they came to understand that Montreal has something special that they hadn’t seen elsewhere. “I think one of the biggest faults of our creative realms here is just how much people take it for granted.”

This upcoming album release is far from being their only project in the works. In just one week, they are hosting RIP VAULT for Halloween weekend, which will feature a myriad of local DJs. After releasing YOUR CHOICE on November 11, they hope to get working on the next one right away, which would ideally be released by next summer. 

Although the Montreal electronic music scene was deeply rocked by the pandemic, it is coming out of it in new and unpredictable ways – and D.Blavatsky is sure to have a role in the way it will transform itself. Whether in terms of the music they release or the infamous raves they organize, their impact on the community is here to stay.


D.BLAVATSKY

Instagram | Bandcamp | Spotify | SoundCloud

Soline Van de Moortele is a tenant rights advocate, insatiable raver, and full-time griever.

A Grieving Girl Blog


Related Articles

 

Youth Lagoon, May Rio, Ayane Yamazaki, Disq and More: Also Cool's Playlist Refresh

 

Heaven Is A Junkyard by Youth Lagoon

As we move into what is hopefully the final leg of a long winter, our listening habits have lean towards comfort songs and new releases. From the Ottawa-core soft indie rock of Trevor Sloan, to a high-energy party track from The Dare, our Refresh hits all the notes you need to get through your snowy walks and cozy days.

Listen to the latest chapter of our Playlist Refresh series on Spotify.

Trevor Sloan by Patrick Dinglasan

If you like upbeat indie-folk, 8mm footage, and mid-sized Canadian cities, you’re going to love Toronto-based artist Trevor Sloan’s latest single “Ottawa 1977”. The track marks one chapter of his new album Dusk Among the Palm Trees, out April 14. As Sloan delicately pores over fragments from his family’s past, the music video brings those recollections to life: twists and shouts, colourful beach balls, all-knowing grandparents and not-caring tots. His vocals are buoyant and pure, as ephemeral as the memories themselves: “Let’s laugh and dance / when we got the chance”. Sounds like good advice.

Trevor Sloan

Website | Instagram | Bandcamp | Spotify

May Rio by Logan White

Brooklynite May Rio has quite literally gone goblin mode with her new track “Need You Like”. Premiering this past Wednesday via Paper Magazine, the dream pop single is another instant classic from Rio, wherein she pens herself as a villain leading-on an unnamed lover: “You went to bat for me / I triple-played a loner / Gift-wrap your heart, you’re sweet / I’ll pickle it with the others”. Rich with bubbling synths and swanky guitar, Rio’s sugary voice and wit take centre-stage in the two-minute earworm. 

May Rio

Instagram | Bandcamp | Spotify

Ayane Yamazaki by Masahiro Yanagisawa

Tokyo’s Ayane Yamazaki reimagines city pop on her latest arrival “Saturn and Unicorn” Released on February 24th on me and baby music, Yamazaki’s buttery vocals glide atop luminescent melodies with hypnotizing danceability. Working tirelessly in crafting electro-pop perfection since the age of 15, Yamazaki has garnered a following from college and alternative radio stations around the world. In a statement on “Saturn and Unicorn”, Yamazaki shares that the song represents entering a new frontier; we can’t wait to see what’s next for the 24-year-old singer! 

Ayane Yamazaki

Website | Instagram | Spotify

The Dare via Bandcamp

New York’s Harrison Patrick Smith AKA The Dare resuscitates aughts electroclash hedonism on his brand new offering “Good Time”.  A fuzzy comedown from his breakout banger “Girls” (which has been a constant spin since its drop, by the way), “Good Time” is a sexy smoke break from a hazy dancefloor. The anticipated single expertly nods to dance-punk taste-makers like LCD Soundsystem and Peaches, making for a saturated rager that instigates entertainment for entertainment’s sake; and we’re absolutely here for it.

The Dare

Instagram | Spotify

Disq via the band’s website

Wisconsin rock band Disq have spent the week rolling through 400-series highways, spreading flecks of grungy magic along the way. The five-piece group is supporting the first half of Alvvays’ Canadian tour, but they emerge as the stars of the show – uneasy yet audacious, impossible to pin down and indifferent to your attempts. Their latest album Desperately Imagining Someplace Quiet feels agile and provocative, probing issues of the modern age with stream-of-consciousness wit and frenetic punk stylings. Many highlights to be found within their catalogue, but fellow emos will delight in how “The Hardest Part” scalds with its imagery and explosive climax.

Disq

Website | Instagram | Bandcamp | Spotify

Lucy via Interview Mag By Annabell P. Lee

It's fair to say that LUCY (Cooper B. Handy) is our latest musical obsession here at Also Cool. We initially discovered his music through his collaboration with Boy Harsher, "Autonomy”, and have since dove deep into the world of LUCY and caught his recent live set in Montreal with Night Lunch and Mark Cone.

His approach to songwriting falls balances simplicity with sometimes absurd but always heartfelt messages. Although it's not a new release, "Even The Score" (a collaboration with Whitearmor) has been on repeat for the last month, making it a worthy addition to our Refresh.

LUCY (Cooper B. Handy)
SoundCloud I Instagram

Youth Lagoon (Trevor Powers by Tyler T. Williams

Youth Lagoon (Trevor Powers) makes a tender return with his latest track, “Idaho Alien”, which comes off his forthcoming album Heaven Is a JunkyardIn 2016, Trevor Powers shut the door on Youth Lagoon. “I felt like I was in a chokehold,” he says. “Even though it was my music, I lost my way. In a lot of ways, I lost myself.” But after an over-the-counter drug reaction caused eight months of harm to Powers’ larynx and vocal cords, temporarily silencing his voice, he decided to return to the project.

Trevor comes home to Youth Lagoon through reflections on family, drug use, youth, brotherhood and war. “I don’t remember how it happened / Blood filled up the clawfoot bath, and I will fear no frontier.” 

Youth Lagoon
Instagram I Spotify

Scarlet Rae returns with a gentle heartache of track, “Waking Dream”. Her wavering vocals reflect on relationships with others, being alone, and moving on. “arms are open wide, my baby holds me tight, between love and light there’s always something left behind.”

For fans of Elliot Smith, Sparklehorse, and PACKS, keep an eye out for Scarlet’s live NYC shows.

Scarlet Rae
Instagram I Spotify


Related Articles

 

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

 

Mue by Vincent Castonguay

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CD: Weird!


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Les vasi​è​res

Out November 25, 2022 via Halocline Trance Records

1. Hylozoïste

2. Ambeing

3. Balanes

4. Télophases

5. Quatre Temps

6. 433 Eros

7. Andand

8. Sumac

9. Naica

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

Mastered by East End Mastering

Cover artwork by Katherine Melançon

Graphic design by Haley Parker


Mue

Instagram | Bandcamp | Spotify

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


Related Articles

 

Lesser Evil Summon Everything That is Evoked Without Being Said on Debut LP "Subterranean"

 

Lesser Evil (from left to right: Ariane M. and Christophe Lamarche-Ledoux) by Ebru Yildiz

Lesser Evil are done interpreting their own sound. After nearly four years of tireless music-making, the Montreal-based electronic duo consisting of Christophe Lamarche-Ledoux and Ariane M. are excited to promote Subterranean and hear from the listeners themselves. The reception, according to Lesser Evil, is the second-most exciting part of being an artist; apart from the production stage itself.

I had the pleasure of meeting with Lamarche-Ledoux and Ariane on a sunny Saturday morning in late-September, where we had the opportunity to chat about their artistic process, how Lesser Evil came into existence, and what it took to create Subterranean — their debut album releasing on October 14th.

When talking about the formation of Lesser Evil, Lamarche-Ledoux describes the experience as natural, yet long-overdue. “We’ve known each other for a very long time,” says Lamarche-Ledoux, “because we were actually neighbours in a small town called Sherbrooke [Quebec].” 

Despite this, Lamarche-Ledoux explains that it took around eighteen years before the duo found themselves together in a studio, and that this actually happened after they respectively decided to relocate. “We both moved to Montreal, still not being friends. [But] we met in Montreal because we have a lot of friends in common from Sherbrooke, and [we had both been] doing music for a long time.”

Lamarche-Ledoux notes that when the two creatives and hometown neighbours finally collaborated on music production, the results were like nothing they had ever heard before. “While we were working on [Ariane’s] songs, the music became something else. It didn’t entirely sound like Ariane’s work, and it didn’t exactly sound like mine either… It kind of became this whole new thing.” He says that after hearing their strange and magical concoctions resulting from shared studio time, the formation of Lesser Evil occurred naturally. “At some point I just looked over and said, ‘Ariane, we should start a band.’ And that’s when the new [project] was formed.”

The results of this formation included an initial, self-titled EP in 2018, which produced much success upon its release; songs off the EP like “V.W” and “Cobra Effect” garnered thousands of streams on Spotify, and their track “Sight Of” has accumulated nearly 60,000 streams on the platform ever since. Still reeling from the initial hype generated by their first project, Lamarche-Ledoux and Ariane decided to hunker down and focus their energy towards something more nuanced and time-consuming. Nearly four years later, Subterranean came into existence.

Lesser Evil by Ebru Yildiz

Speaking on the creative process that went into making Subterranean, Ariane is quick to point out that the duo intended to create a piece of art that is intentionally ambiguous, allowing it to be left for interpretation by its listeners. “When it comes to the ‘bones’ of a song, it always needs to come from [us] initially,” Ariane says. “I’m an emotionally-driven person, and it dictates my life.” 

She goes on to say that the songs initially capture “a moment in time, where there’s something in me that [fixates] me.” She says that this is something that remains constant throughout the album, “As you start working on [the songs] it can pretty much go anywhere.”

Yet this incentive of having songs “go anywhere,” as Ariane puts it, is not without intention. Instead of giving clear direction, Lesser Evil instead opts to leave enough space in their songs to allow listeners to become lost in them, forcing them to find their own final destination. “I’m obsessed with everything that’s hidden; everything that’s tacit,” Ariane says. She explains that she has been doing psychoanalysis for five years now, and that this process translates directly into Lesser Evil’s music production. “When I try to write songs and capture that initial spark, I am also trying to tap into everything that’s hidden.” 

This process also inspired the album’s title, which refers to the “subterranean” elements of the human psyche. When our conversation transitions from focusing on the album’s production process to its title, Ariane describes the decision to name their project “Subterranean” as a “no-brainer.”

The controlled level of ambiguity that Lesser Evil conveys on Subterranean is clear on the singles that have been released leading up to the album. The song “Fiction” feels like an underwater voyage through subdued synths, with Ariane’s voice guiding listeners to their own conclusions as she softly sings about yearning, isolation and mystic love. Although quite different sonically, the bass-heavy dance track “Contemplate” is a surreal voyage through an underground tunnel, and Ariane’s distorted vocals equally shine on the song’s darkest and most upbeat moments. The instrumentation on these songs might change, but all have one thing in common: they are intended to resonate directly with the listener. 

Commenting on how they decide which sounds to keep while producing their music, Lamarche-Ledoux explains: “It could just be a synth sound, or the perfect amount of reverb on the [vocals]. It just has to be something that interests us, and that we can actually feel.” He elaborates by saying that while this process might “seem simple… it is actually very subtle,” and that it takes a lot of time to finalize.

Through this process, the duo aspires to create an auditory experience that listeners truly yearn for. “It has to resonate enough,” Ariane explains. “Christophe has to hear that little backbone, and be like ‘yeah, let’s spend [countless] hours on this.’” The music is intended as “a hybrid of classical songwriting” layered over “all the modern ways of treating sound,” Ariane says with a smile. The songs, as they explain, must emanate that “subterranean” reaction in thought as well as feeling. After all, nobody spends time in the studio isolating sounds and fine-tuning them if they never elicited an emotional response in the first place. 

Lesser Evil by Ebru Yildiz

Asking the duo about their creative traditions before hitting the studio, Ariane says that their music typically forms itself through improvisation: “[B]asically, we show up and see what happens.” But at a certain point in the day, Ariane and Lamarche-Ledoux do in fact have an unspoken ritual to uplift one another’s spirits. “We’re looking for high-fives,” Ariane says. “We never know what we’re going to do when we arrive; we just show up and do a session. But then, we always say that we’re looking for that ‘high-five’ moment, when we’re so enthused by our work that we begin screaming and high-fiving.”

Ariane notes that they have an additional, unorthodox tradition while making music: belting out lyrics from 90s hits like Jock Jams’ “Are You Ready For This” during their more successful moments during production. “I’m usually in the back and Christophe is in the studio,” Ariane says, “so sometimes we don’t really see each other for hours. And then he’ll just say, ‘Are you ready for this?’ and I [start singing] in the back.”

Wrapping up our interview, I ask Ariane and Lamarche-Ledoux what Lesser Evil fans can expect in the months following the release of Subterranean. “Will you guys be touring at all?” I wonder, “or will you be looking to make some music videos? Or are you guys just going to be taking a break because your album is out and you’re tired,” I muse. Lamarche-Ledoux chimes in by saying. “Are you crazy? That’s not how it works!” We all share a good laugh.

“We’ve worked for years on this record,” Lamarche-Ledoux says. “We’re really proud of it, and we want to make it [have] a life. We’re getting into some activities — some shows here and there, including a Montreal show and a Quebec show. We’re probably going to play in New York at some point next year as well.” He elaborates by saying that because Lesser Evil is a DIY project: “It’s really insane, and we’re having trouble doing all these things at once. It’s also all out-of-pocket money, so it’s pretty fucking crazy,” he jokes. “We’re really just smashing this project into the world as hard as we can.” 

The band notes that music videos and visualizers are not something that they are willing to take-on themselves, but that they are not opposed to having creatives try to visualize their work. This has been done twice already for songs off of Subterranean, including collaborator Joël Morin-Ben Abdallah’s otherworldly visuals for “Fiction” as well as Abdallah’s recent, psychedelic visualization for the track “Haze,” which uses images from the 1981 Hungarian movie Son of the White Mare.

As a final question, I ask the duo whether there is anything else they would like to chat about. Ariane replies promptly, saying that more than anything, “...I just want people to listen to the album… for us, we worked so many years on this. I just want other people’s judgment on [Subterranean]. I’m tired of listening to my own analysis.”

Lamarche-Ledoux echoes this sentiment in his answer, but also notes that bringing the world’s artistic community together is the primary response he wants to elicit. “Now the most fun part of doing art is over, which to me is making music. We’re getting into touring, and doing promotional stuff… this is kind of less fun to do. Moving forward, I want to meet more people who are interested and genuine about art, and our music. That’s all I want: I don’t necessarily want an ‘enemy interview,’ or a TV spot. I just want it to be about the love of music, and being true. Not about success.”

Subterranean comes out on October 14th, but in the meantime you can listen to Lesser Evil’s ethereal new singles on their Spotify or other streaming platforms. They also have two upcoming shows you’ll want to check out – catch them on November 4th in Quebec City at Le Pantoum, or November 5th in Montreal at La Sotterranea.

Lesser Evil in Montreal post-interview; photo by the author


SUBTERRANEAN

Out October 14, 2022

1. New/Same

2. Fiction

3. Subterranean

4. Heights

5. Wandering

6. Contemplate

7. Haze

8. Heavenly

9. Hot-Blooded

10. Reincarnation

Engineered, composed and produced by Lesser Evil

Mixed by Mark Lawson

Mastered by Brian Lucey at Magic Garden Mastering

Artwork by Caroline Robert

Source photo of the diver by Odile Gamache

Logo by Florian Petigny


Lesser Evil

Website | Instagram | Bandcamp

Facebook | Spotify | Apple Music

 

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

Instagram


Related Articles

 

Interzone’s "Transcendental Cuisine" Marks an Exciting Comeback in the Electronic Scene

 

via Interzone

Translations of interviews in this article were done by its author.

The Transcending Experience of "Transcendental Cuisine"

After entering through a door located near the lively intersection of St. Laurent and St. Joseph, the participants descended a few short steps before arriving at the basement venue of La Sotterenea. They were greeted at the door for tickets in a small hallway lined with two doors that made up the space: the chill room on the right and the noise room on the left.

The April 29th show, titled "Transcendental Cuisine," was Interzone's first show back since the start of the pandemic – and it was remarkable. The show, which began at 8PM and finished at 3AM, featured six local artist sets ranging from live noise to techno and electro DJ sets. Throughout the night, you could go between listening to Kore, Wormhole of Doubt, Stan K, Nixtrove, Myfanwy, Neo Edo, and Matthew Raymond, and spending time in the chill room across the hallway where a bar, pool table, comfy sofas, warm light, and a merch table could be found.

The show hosted somewhere between 100-120 attendees, and both rooms were filled throughout the night. I spoke with several of the participants, organizers, and artists at the event to hear their thoughts on both the show itself and the broader collective. 

Playing for Interzone

I spoke with Jessy Myfanwy, who played her first-ever official DJ set at the Interzone show. As she explained, she had often played with her friends, but this was her first time having a curated set.

Jessy became involved in the electronic music scene in Vancouver at 18, attending underground disco and tropical house shows. She then oriented herself towards more experimental, "hard and weird" genres five years ago. 

When I asked Jessy if she had any specific musical intentions in her mixing. She explained that she liked to play "Very chaotic mixes that still have some sort of accessibility to the general population."

"I really like playing electro remixes of bangers and a lot of industrial music. [I'm] getting a bit more into techno now. I've always been really into industrial music and industrial kinds of techno. I want to experiment with genres like opera… I'm really into contemporary opera."

Jessy loved her experience playing her first show at Interzone. "They did such an excellent job organizing it," she explained. "I love when there's a mix of live sets and DJing.

[It was] my first time being to Sotterenea since before the pandemic, and I forgot how much I loved the space. Having a chill room is really important, outside of the music, because it gives space. You can be involved in different layers of participation which I really like." 

Along with the space's disposition, Jessy was happy with the turnout, which she described as a "mixed crowd" of participants coming from different scenes.

Who is Interzone – What is Interzone?

With no fixed origin, Interzone emerged out of inspirations tracing back to the European industrial scene and Tunisian upbringings. I got the chance to speak with Ghazi Bena, one of the co-creators of the collective, who described the collective – active since 2018 – as being a product of the kind of musical and artistic drives he and co-creator Habib Bardi experienced prior to their arrival in Montreal. 

Interzone also grew out of a desire to break out of the increasingly commodified rave and electronic music scene of Europe, explained Ghazi. The European electronic scene had, at that point, reached a kind of "saturation," a nearly "unreachability in which you could no longer do anything innocent and pure," he said. "It was like a structure already made, too deep-seated, too commodified."

Upon arriving in Montreal, Ghazi and Habib grew to appreciate the "kinds of territories which weren't devoured by the 'business' side we now see in the scene."

Fluid, in movement, spontaneous, explosive, absolute chaos – Interzone seeks to embody a space in which artistic expression may emerge without being submitted to the rigidity of capitalism. The very structure – or perhaps, lack thereof – of the collective illustrates its philosophical underpinnings. 

One of Interzone's significant motives is, as described by Ghazi, a kind of "effective urgency," an urgency to "organize, to create that kind of space, that space of existence." He wanted to clarify that this motive did not stem merely from the organizers. "The core of the artistic drive does not come from us; it comes from the artists' performances [who] are doing incredible things. It's the people who attend and who have a particular interest in music and performance in general…it is those who make art and music live."

The organizers were pleased with the event, agreeing that it was their most successful one. "The party was a great pleasure, [to get to] see this energy which emanates from the people and the artists…to see that people are still excited, still here." 

Ghazi noted the fun they had organizing and experiencing the event, which is crucial to what they seek to create. Although they maintain some level of artistic exigency, they seek to minimize the 'seriousness' of their collective. "There is some form of seriousness to have, but at the same time…[we aim to] not transform the serious aspect into something hermeneutic and opaque which does not accept difference.

We had so much fun…it is something which makes us live, not materially speaking…but in an existential sense."

Playing with Interzone

I also spoke with Willliam Humphrey, who describes himself as "a filmmaker and an editor" who likes "helping out wherever needed." 

William attended the event and has been involved with Interzone for several years. He described the fluid structure of Interzone: "There's this ability for everyone to take a small role or even just be present." For William, the event reinvigorated a sense of excitement regarding the artistic scene after two years of pandemic-ridden slumber.

With the impressive number of new collectives emerging into the scene, I asked William what he thought made Interzone unique. "I think what makes each one unique is their sensibility," he explained, "They're willing to take risks and incorporate local musicians with international musicians."

One example he cited was an event they organized in 2019 when they invited the England-based Giant Swan to play at a loft rave. William explained that the collective thought to themselves, "Giant Swan has never played in Montreal. Let's book them. Let's get them from the U.K. to Montreal and have them play a show with a ton of great local acts."

"It's not an easy one to do," he continued. "Financially, it's hell. But it's the exhibitions and events that they host that are so worth it."

William is equally excited for what's to come – parties, shows, and events all summer in the hot Montreal weather. As these things come back to life, I wanted to know what William would like to see change or happen in the electronic scene. "More windows [and] air circulation," he noted. "But I think more than anything, utilizing the outdoors as a space to hold events, whether it be on the mountain or in the bushes or maybe off the islands."

Interzone, the Scene, and What's to Come

As pandemic restrictions diminish and the Montreal artistic and electronic music scene comes back buzzing, there is a new horizon of possibilities to create new kinds of spaces, movements, and collectives. Interzone is coming back strong: alongside this past show, the collective officially launched their label in March, and with it released three tapes by Habib, Stan K, and a live set of Lier Lier. 

"Other than the shows that allow these brilliant people to express themselves on stage, this label has been the crystallization aspect of those expressions."

For Ghazi, it is essential for the collective to not project too much into the future. By seeking to create new existential territories of artistic expression, he explained, the spontaneity which comes with not over-projecting is vital to maintain. 

That being said, there are projects in the works, and Interzone will have more events and artistic productions for those who missed the last event. They are looking to sustain the same energy from the last event. "It is an energy that should not end."

Ghazi expressed some worry about the increased competition and business model absorbed by the Montreal techno scene. The kinds of artistic spaces or sites of expression Interzone seeks to create, strive to exist "outside of the entire system of capitalist value in which we live," explained Ghazi. "Many movements around go against this vision of art and artistic expression. They are more in a business kind of mood…they put their intentions in there."

"We are just striving to do things as…innocent as possible, without wanting to walk on the feet of others, [or] on other collectives who are doing excellent work, [with] many people who are truly brilliant and do incredible work."

 "It is in the most uncontrollable chaos and the least tangibility possible, there are things which leave their frame, which leave our conceptions, our system of values, our ways to see things, and this is what drives us, that is the drive we are looking for."

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

Instagram | Wordpress

 

Related Articles

Premiere: dybbuk Brings Early 2000s Club Culture to Life with Debut Album on Causal Chain

 

Unruhe cover art by Bruno Lauzon Tanzi in collaboration with Sora Park

Causal Chain, the electronic music label run by syncopated groove and hypnotic bassline master, laced (Saudade, audio bambino), is back with a deep and heavy debut release from dybbuk.

Based in Bruges, Belgium, dybbuk is a DJ and producer schooled in the traditions of bass music and club culture. Infused with elements of ambient, dubstep and techno, his soundscapes paint a nostalgic picture of the early 2000s and its diverse electronic music scene. His love for old school sci-fi and video games is reflected in his productions. dybbuk’s music is a unique realm filled with deep bass, spacious pads and hard hitting percussions.

Rhythmic fragments slither and dance among shimmering textures and disembodied voices, altering restlessly. dybbuk’s debut EP on Causal Chain, Unruhe, presents five introspective cuts with enormous club potential.

LITHE
Effortless shifting between bouncy club and half-time elegance before returning to an ambient origin.

UNRUHE
Intricate basslines are housed within a tense spectral atmosphere true to its name.

ROGUE SOULS
Hard, morphing bass tones accompany a floating melody through an industrial soundscape.

CO-OP
Decayed percussion and dubbed out pads swirl in subdued harmony.

CHOOSE LIFE
Gated vocals emerge above unique percussive forms.

Unruhe releases on March 18, 2022.

Listen to a preview of Unruhe below:

Music by dybbuk
Mastered by SIM
Cover art by Bruno Lauzon Tanzi in collaboration with Sora Park
Words by Holden Carroll

dybbuk

Instagram | Bandcamp | Soundcloud


Related Articles

 

Maryze Shares Queer Nightclub Inspired New Single "Experiments" from Debut Album

 

Still from “Experiments”

We could all do with a little queer club fantasy right about now. We're dreaming of that first night back on the dance floor, colourful lights and smoke machines flickering between you and that cute person across the room... If you're feeling what we're feeling, Maryze's latest "Experiments" is the perfect 2000s-pop-inspired track to get you in the mood.

For those unfamiliar, Maryze (she/they) is our local alt-pop queen, finding fans among those of Caroline Polachek, Charli XCX, Britney Spears, or Nelly Furtado. Inspired by her Celtic roots, years of studying jazz, and a healthy obsession with emo as a teenager, Maryze's music transcends genre while still providing one hook after the other.

Photo by Taylor Priede

"Experiments" is a dark and sexy 2000s club banger produced by Jeshway and inspired by Timbaland beats and ominous but fun tracks like Nelly Furtado's “Maneater”. Thematically, it focuses on sexuality, taboos, and shame, exploring vulnerability in intimacy and how sometimes letting go of control allows us to truly be in control. Dancey and grindable, "Experiments" shows Maryze's playful side, featuring breathy R&B vocals and spoken studio session snippets à la Britney Spears. The release has also become popular on TikTok, inspiring a glam transition trend. Check it out here!

The equally iconic and sexy music video lands us in a mysterious, sensual and surreal universe, oscillating between intimate close-ups and dramatic wide shots, soft blur and sharp focus. Maryze joins forces with another local legend, Ariana Molly, to create a beautiful queer nightclub-inspired alternate reality. It's a nod to the early 2000s, where pop icons were unapologetically sexy and powerful, with the feeling of strength and sensual divinity oozing from its pores. The sound and visuals for "Experiments" are a clear step up and beautiful evolution of Maryze's creative career, ushering us into the alt queen's new era.

"Experiments" is from Maryze's upcoming debut album 8, which is available for pre-order now. Keep an eye out for more witchy releases coming very soon!

Watch "Experiments" below

Maryze

TikTok | Website | Facebook | Twitter

Instagram | Bandcamp | SoundCloud | Spotify

Malaika Astorga is the Co-Founder & Creative Director of Also Cool. She is a Mexican-Canadian visual artist, writer, and social media strategist currently based in Montreal.


Related Articles

 

Janette King Sinks Into Self-Confidence with Euphoric New Video for "Ooh Yeah" (Hot Tramp Records)

 

Still from “Ooh Yeah” by Janette King

With less than a week until Valentine’s Day, songstress Janette King is paying intimate tribute to the ultimate lover – herself. The slinky and self-assured “Ooh Yeah”, off Janette’s debut EP What We Lost, is reborn with a liberated new music video.

“Ooh Yeah” sees Janette re-emerge with a deep admiration for all that she is worth, wrapping the listener in waves of inspiration to follow suit. Produced by GRAY, the song documents Janette’s journey into the realm of self-pleasure, offering a masterclass in putting yourself first and chasing your wildest dreams and greatest ambitions. “Ooh Yeah” elaborates on Janette’s unique concoction of R&B and woozy electronica, showcasing her vocal agility.

"'Ooh Yeah' is about breaking trauma patterns, "killing" your old self in order to be reborn into the greatest version of yourself,” Janette reflects on the track. “This idea of walking into a new sense of self came from the forced time alone due to the pandemic, where I was left to reflect and learn what my soul truly needs in order to feel whole.”

Still from “Ooh Yeah” by Janette King

In the new DIY-style video for “Ooh Yeah”, Janette and pals soak in the pleasures of indulgence, transcending through various states of euphoria. Between cupcakes, champagne and video games, the deeper meanings of solace are explored. The video is directed, shot, and edited by Alexandra B. and Elya M.

As Janette explains:

“These visuals are a celebration of joy. It’s a music video about what it means to feel good in one's own skin and not feeling shame when one enjoys that feeling. Liberating oneself from societal pressures and expressing one’s sexuality in whatever way it feels best. It’s about self-pleasure, love, community and independence.”

Watch the video for “Ooh Yeah” below!


Janette King

Website | Instagram | Bandcamp

YouTube | Spotify | Apple Music | Twitter | Facebook

Rebecca Judd is the features editor of Also Cool Mag.


Related Articles

 

PREMIERE: Nick Schofield Unveils Blissful Music Video for "Light and Space" (Forward Music Group)

 

Nick Schofield, shot by Christopher Honeywell

To celebrate the one-year anniversary of his sophomore LP Glass Gallery, Hull-based electroacoustic composer Nick Schofield aptly unveils the music video for his new track “Light and Space.” Composed entirely on a vintage Prophet-600 synthesizer, “Light and Space” is a meditative soundscape inspired by the dance between its namesake within the National Gallery of Canada, located in Ottawa.

On “Light and Space,” Schofield shares:

“This composition conveys a core sentiment that inspired the making of Glass Gallery - the sublime light that flows through the serene space of the National Gallery in Ottawa. I researched the Light and Space artistic movement and noticed that ideology of perceptual phenomena applied to the architecture of the gallery, especially how the glass structure frames the ever-changing natural light and environment. In a way, experiencing the light and space of the National Gallery showed me that the world can be framed as a work of art.”

Out today, the song’s accompanying music video captures Schofield’s notion of the everyday creative sanctuary. Shot on a ferry in British Columbia using a beloved point-and-shoot camera, the glimmering footage deconstructs Schofield’s surroundings, the ocean air, wind, waves and sparkling sunlight, into ethereal abstractions. On the video’s conceptualization, Schofield remarks: “In the song, crescendos of vintage synth chords and glistening arpeggios perfectly align with the fuzzy footage of water and waves, so it felt natural to pair them together.”

Watch the video for “Light and Space” below!

Nick Schofield
Website | Instagram | Bandcamp

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


Related Articles

 

Swedish Electronic-Indie Songwriter sir Was Tackles Mortality on New LP "Let The Morning Come" (Memphis Industries)

 

sir Was by Malin Ingrid Johansson

Being confronted with one’s own mortality is, suffice to say, fodder for personal reflection. Let The Morning Come, the third feature album release by Swedish songwriter and instrumentalist Joel Wästberg, or sir Was, deals very closely with themes of mortality and time, but not with a sense of panic or urgency, rather it’s calm and collected. 

Following 2019’s Holding On To a Dream, Wästberg was set to open for Swedish electronica mainstay Little Dragon during the summer of 2020. However, following the pandemic and the cancellation of tours worldwide, he was told tests revealed he inherited a hereditary condition causing multiple strokes.

“At first I got very sad and scared,” Wästberg says of the diagnosis. “But at the same time, it was like all the other worries I carried suddenly didn't matter. I just got this very intense feeling of being alive.”

The entirely self-produced album released October 15th on Memphis Industries. The ten-track project showcases Wästberg’s knack for subtle electronica compositions and charming songwriting. Singles like “Waiting For The Weekend” and “I Need a Minute” touch on themes of time and place, supported by rich instrumentals that refrain from overcrowding the mix, but that bloom and develop in their own ways.

“I Need a Minute is about the strong wish to stick around for a bit longer. A cry for more time. At the same time, it’s a wish for a pause,” said Wästberg.

Let the Morning Come is out now on Memphis Industries - listen below.

Let The Morning Come album cover by Damien Priest


sir Was

Instagram | Facebook | Spotify

Gabriel Lunn is a writer, multimedia journalist, and pop music enthusiast based out of Victoria BC. When he isn’t trying to decipher the human condition he can usually be found going for long runs or collecting vinyl records he really doesn’t need.


Related Articles

 

Ouri's "Frame of a Fauna" Offers a Treatise on Bodies in (Com)motion (Born Twice / Lighter Than Air)

 

Ouri. Photo courtesy of Kane Ocean

Sharp utensils carve through metaphysical auras. Jagged ribs pierce muted whispers. After much anticipation, the inimitable Ouri is ready to guide you through her life cycle. The multi-instrumentalist, DJ and producer has released debut LP Frame of a Fauna – out now via Born Twice and Lighter Than Air. 

A revered fixture of Montreal’s underground rave scene, Ouri has long captivated with her nuanced approach to orchestral experimentation. Frame of a Fauna stands as the artist’s second release of the year; Hildegard, the transcendent duo comprised of herself and Helena Deland, dropped their self-titled debut in June (which AC had the pleasure of diving into).

Marking the latest notch in Ouri’s belt, Frame of a Fauna carefully wields experimental and classical curiosities to seek deeper truths between the bars. The artist reinforces her aptitude for the sonically-transformative as she dissects the exchanges between intangible forces and corporeal forms. The album is guided by life itself, etched with Ouri’s personal losses and awakenings. Birth, death and rebirth are arranged on a seafoam platter, their bones exposed for all to pick.

Album highlights include the hauntingly beautiful “Ossature”; "Intact Alef" by PTU furnishes Ouri’s auditory playground, enhanced by breathy vocals and disfigured percussion. “Grip” offers tender reflections over a lethargic beat, coupled with a stirring video of Ouri undergoing brain surgery mid-performance. Her ambitious vision is not lost in this straddling of soundscapes, acting instead as a compass for each ethereal composition and grounding them in an inescapable reality.

Days before the release of Frame of a Fauna, we had the pleasure of speaking with Ouri about her creative pursuits, body oddity, and the merits to minimalism. 

Ouri. Photo courtesy of Kane Ocean

Rebecca Judd for Also Cool Mag: I'm really interested in the kind of [creative] work you do and the trajectory that you've marked. You fuse the classical with the experimental, carving new folds into the parameters of electronic music. How did you lean into this thirst for transformation? How did you realize that that trajectory could be possible?

Ouri: I feel like I started in classical music, and then stopped and jumped into electronic music and the more experimental approach to [that genre]. At some point, I wanted to reconcile everything; I always saw [the situation] like [picking] one or the other, either an advantage or disadvantage, and I just wanted to bring everything in. 

It was super exciting to create a new fusion in general. I feel like there's a lot of schools, a lot of ways to do things, and I wanted to prove to myself that it was possible to do something else.


Also Cool: You’ve been involved with many different projects, including the critically-acclaimed duo of Hildegard (who we previously chatted with at Also Cool); your career is inspiring with this relentless pursuit of skill and expression. How do your different creative projects meld into each other – do you conceive of them as separate chapters, or do they all play into your greater story? 

Ouri: I think they're all part of my story, and they're not like the end of a chapter. I don’t think, because I was DJing a lot and now I’m DJing less, that that makes me want to DJ less [in general]. I want to keep doing everything that I do, and it’s like all [these skills] inform everything – the way I do music, the way I think about music, the way I discover new things in compositions. [They] change the way I DJ, the way I dig and research and find new music to mix together, my compositional techniques and singing. 

I feel like having a diversity of projects, it was a little bit draining at first, but now I feel like I’m confident enough that I can bounce off each one in a very dynamic way.

AC: That’s a wonderful way to look at it – the synergy you feel, it sounds like that really helps you identify yourself and your passions, and express all those different sides to you.

AC: Speaking to [debut album] Frame of a Fauna, I’m fascinated by its artistic philosophies. You explain it as an album which explores “how emotional hardship can imprint, and in turn deform the skeleton”. The sensations you describe are viscerally-stimulating, etched in textures and suspensions all around – how did this direction for your debut album come about? 

O: [This theme], it was just one of my current obsessions that was troubling me. I was touring for the first time in 2019, and I was seeing a bunch of different people with different stories. There were first impressions, and then learning about their life experiences and comparing how those changed for them. 

This made me realize that I was obsessed with human beings, with [the body as] our vessel. It’s a great machine, but it’s also a very dysfunctional machine and absurd sometimes. I wanted to express that in my music.

I don’t know if it’s as present in the [lyrics of Frame of a Fauna], I feel like those are more of an expression of the moment that came naturally. But the music, it was really important to me to have that feeling of a natural, but deformed, but natural [state of being]. We all feel deformed, even when we’re less than someone else. I wanted to translate that into the music. 

AC: Something I read is that, coupled with these vivid sensations and experiences of rebirth are snippets of your own life, sewn into the seams of each passing genre and sound. What has the journey of this project taught you about yourself and your artistry? How does music help you to process your own experiences?

O: This project started when my sister had her son – I’m so close to her, and we’re almost the same age, and we have parallel lives. I wanted to be [with her], I wanted to be close enough that I could visit her often, so I decided to settle in London for a month. [When I was there], I was researching a lot, and I decided not to go to any social activities. I would go to record shops to listen to music and discover the city, and just observe without existing or interacting. I received a lot of inspiration.

Then I went to Berlin for a month, where I was recording more. I was meeting a [few] more people, but I was still a bit distant. By that time, I had a bunch of recordings, and I was really like – I don’t know. I feel like, in the female experience, there’s so much shame, and I wanted to really transcend that and see what I was ashamed of and do it, the best I could. And so that’s what I did [with my music]. I wanted to break down all the mental constructions that were in my way. Now, I feel more confident. I’m accepting what I’m doing. 

In the past, sometimes I feel like I was [preoccupied with the idea that], you know, you don’t know what type of success you want and you don’t know how far you want to go – instead of just being in the present moment. I have no idea where this whole adventure is going to lead me, but I know what I want to experience now. I know exactly which experiences are helping me become more focused and more precise and happier.

Ouri. Photos courtesy of Kane Ocean

AC: Tomorrow isn’t promised, so in that regard you must put yourself out there the way you want to at that moment and deal with the rest later. [Creating is] all about that natural state of being and what feels right. 

O: And, also, to practice – to just isolate yourself to practice your skills, and then come back and refine your vision, not [losing] yourself in what you think people will understand or expect from you.


AC: Is [isolation] an approach that you think you’d take to your future creative work, or was that just an exercise for the time being?

O: It was an exercise that I pushed to the extreme, but I definitely think that isolation helps the creative process a lot. It can be two months, a week, a few days, a year. I don’t know what I will need in the future, but I will need some isolation for sure.


AC: Describe the environment you want to curate with your Frame of a Fauna shows, physically speaking or otherwise. What do you try to convey in your performances, and what do you want conveyed back to you?

O: I really want to convey the energy that I feel inside of me. I want to show a softness while balancing the intensity that I feel inside of myself. I really want to do something musical, but I don’t really want to do a visual show – right now, that is not what I’m trying to do. 

I want to feel a strong dynamic between me, the musicians on stage, and the crowd. I want to feel that exchange of energy. [My shows] will not be unidirectional. I want to stop time, accelerate it, and play with all the parameters.


AC: That [description] kind of relates to the overall themes of the album as well. [Frame of a Fauna] is about all of these vivid human sensations that you can’t describe, this “more than words” type of energy. So the idea is, then, that it’s going to be very minimalistic and people are going to be transformed by the musicality?

O: That is really what I want! I feel like there is so much going on visually [in the world]. Since COVID, I’ve spent so much time on my phone––seeing things, trying to grab information from visuals––but sometimes I feel like I receive too much information visually, and it goes too fast and doesn’t make sense anymore. 

Music can really help change that, jumping between completely new perspectives and new worlds of sensation. I want to take advantage of that. This is what I do, I’m a musician, so I’m focusing on the music.


AC: We are looking forward to whatever you’re up to next. Is it too early to ask about next steps? How are you hoping to transform in the months to come?

O: Absolutely. I’m going to do a couple of shows after this one [in Montreal on October 27], and I’ll also be launching my own imprint with this album––it’s called Born Twice––so I’m already working on the next project that I’m going to release. I’ll be continuing to forge the sound of that.

I’m really curious to observe people’s reactions to my album. In the past, I feel like I was running away from reactions because I was afraid they would be negative, but now I just want to see how people react to this because it’s going to give me a tip on what to pursue next. 

I want to have solid pillars for my different approaches, musically, to Born Twice. I’m already [working on a pillar]; maybe the reaction to Frame of a Fauna is going to be another pillar, and a new collaboration is going to be another one. We’ll see!


FRAME OF A FAUNA

Released on October 22nd, 2021 via Born Twice and Lighter than Air

1. Ossature

2. The More I Feel

3. Two

4. Odd or God (ft. Mind Bath)

5. High & Choking Pt 1

6. Fear of Being Watched

7. Fonction Naturelle

8. Wrong Breed

9. Chains

10. En Mon Doux Sein

11. Shape of It

12. Too Fast No Pain (ft. mobilegirl)

13. Felicity (ft. Antony Carle)

14. Grip

All songs written by Ouri (except 'Odd or God' also written by Mind Bath and 'Felicity' also written by Antony Carle)

Produced by Ouri

Engineered by Ouri

Mixed by Ouri, additional mixing by Francis Latreille

Mastered by Enyang Urbiks

Synth programming by Pulsum and Justin Leduc-Frénette

Samples from Kelly Moran, Tati au Miel, Zach Frampton, PTU (Song: “Intact Alef”, courtesy of Trip Recordings), Aphex Twin (Song: “minipops 67”, courtesy of Warp Records)

Artwork: Photo by Derek Branscombe, layout by Jesse Katabarwa


Ouri

Instagram | Facebook | Bandcamp | YouTube

Soundcloud | Spotify | Apple Music

Rebecca Judd is the features editor of Also Cool Mag.


Related Articles