Distinct sonority

>> Gatineau’s clever and complex rap
music could only come from Quebec

SASS EN MASSE: Gatineau

by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

“J’garde ça réal, j’fais ça à ma façon,” raps MC Séba of Montreal’s Gatineau on “Back in the days,” a fun jam off the band’s recent eponymous debut album. The tune is both a nostalgic salute to early hip hop and a valid gripe about the absence of authentically Québécois rap music. At least until recently—as the above lyrics suggest, the song becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy when you consider recent acts like Loco Locass, Atach Tatuq, Omnikrom and of course Gatineau themselves.

All these acts rap in colloquial Quebec French and make references specific to the province. Take “Pow! Pow! T’es mort,” Gatineau’s snarky local spin on gangster rap. “Obviously, we wouldn’t talk about Crips and Bloods, we’d talk about bikers,” says Jean-Sébastien Cyr, aka Capitaine Keük, who along with DomhameLLL crafts the band’s music (wolf-masked drummer Burne MacPherseünd rounds out the core quartet). Elsewhere, there are nods to Terrebonne and CKOI, José Théodore and Lucien Francoeur.

“The raps, for the most part, are in joual,” adds Cyr, “so there’s already exploration at the level of the sonority of the words, amusing ourselves with the syllables.”

Indeed, you gotta give ’em points for rhyming “ghetto blaster” with “astheure,” a slangy contraction meaning “right now.”

“People don’t really talk like that anymore today, but Séba puts a lot into that, at a historical and idiomatic level.”

Thing is, whereas Loco Locass wear their ethnic-nationalist insecurities as rudely as their fleece jester caps and Omnikrom would sooner throw up than grow up (a good thing, mind you), Gatineau offer a dense and nuanced assessment of Quebec culture—the good, the bad and the goofy of it—and while they’re at it, plenty more besides.

Nuance is necessary for a balancing act like Gatineau’s. “Given our music, our live show, even our band name, we’re on the borderline of being a comedy band,” says Cyr, but it’s a line they won’t cross completely. While keeping a comedy quotient intact, Gatineau strive for something more substantial than lowbrow yuks, a post-punk populist poetry that swings low and aims high. “We always try to find a second degree, to balance things,” says Cyr, pointing out contrasts and counterpoints in the music that accent their often paradoxical intentions.

Gatineau’s wit and wordiness don’t fail them when they branch out to bitching about love gone sour (“Dégage!”, which features Giselle Webber of the Hot Springs mimicking Missy Elliott) or skewering corporate Christianity (“The Christ is right”). “There’s a tune like ‘Elephant,’” notes Cyr, “which is full of cinematic technical jargon, because Séba studied film in Cégep. It still comes from someone who’s striving for authenticity—just like true hip hop.”

Ah, true hip hop, that brass ring, that ball and chain. It must be said that Gatineau lacks for the precision-tooled banger beats so precious to other producers, but that may be because Cyr and his collaborators are busy with everything else and the kitchen sink. “It’s rap, y’know, rhythm and poetry, but what’s often missing in that music is melody.

“Someone once called us a Frankenstein band,” he adds with a laugh, and indeed, wisely deployed flashes of skate punk, gospel and industrial pop up, as do elements of electro, musique actuelle and that particular Quebecois obsession, prog rock.

Gatineau also display a penchant for the theatrical—though less so of late, they still drag disguises and alter egos into their loose and idiosyncratic universe. The most notable is the rude and ribald MC BrutaLLL, Mr. Hyde to Séba’s Dr. Jekyll. “There are plenty of things that BrutaLLL can say that Séba never could, he’s our politically incorrect character. You can’t call yourself MC BrutaLLL and go halfway.

“The characters aren’t always hyper-defined and comprehensible, it’s just to give the shows a little direction, and create visual contrasts.” That said, Cyr adds, “It’s an integral part of our band’s concept. It’s not that we’re just a bunch of clowns who think it’s funny to dress up in costumes. There’s always a link with our music and themes.”

With Giselle Numba One and
Black Taboo at Cabaret on
Saturday, Dec. 1, 9 p.m., $10