Rager en région

A report from Rouyn-Noranda’s excellent
Festival de musique émergente

SHIP OF FOOLS: Patrick Watson Band

by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

Maybe it’s the local CEGEP with a strong arts and multimedia leaning, or the pan-Quebec propensity for digging good music, but a place like Rouyn-Noranda—a copper-mining town of 40,000 eight hours northwest of Montreal by car—really shouldn’t have such a high concentration of venues directly comparable to Divan Orange, la Sala Rossa or la Tulipe.

The vibrant, music-hungry crowds packing these assorted spaces this past long weekend could just be a Brigadoon effect. The arrival of September meant the return, for its seventh edition, of the Festival de musique émergente en Abitibi-Témiscamingue, or FME for brevity’s sake. A magnificently programmed event that’s as informal and welcoming as it is competently managed, the FME is an addictive experience, judging by the number of devoted perennial attendees.

The town’s very finite geography made stumbling drunkenly from show to show easy enough, and there was plenty to check out. For starters, on Sept. 3 at an overheated Petit Théâtre, there was the hearty, pneumatic, amusement-park pop-punk of Xavier Caféïne. Former Groovy Aardvark bassist Vincent Peake and keyboardist Sandy Belfort provided solid support, but it was Caféïne’s driven and convincing frontmanship that sold the package.

Later that night at the cozy Cabaret de la Dernière Chance, B.C.’s wall-of-blonde indie rock quintet Mother Mother delivered vocal harmonies that not only nailed it but always went a step further. Later still was an unexpectedly rocking set from Ariane Moffatt at l’Agora des Arts, a beautiful, recently converted church. A fun frenzy, but Moffatt was topped by the fierce, raw Afro-beat explosion of Afrodizz in the same space the night after.

Marathon men

Moffatt’s show apparently marked her last one with Marie-Pierre Arthur, a bassist with spark who’s embarked on a solo career. She and her band were at the Paramount on Sept. 4, opening for Patrick Watson. Arthur’s charismatic, but her blend of rock, country and chamber pop is too par for the course in Quebec these days. Watson’s set was far more original and lively, with a string section and strong theatrical flair, but for all its oddball improv, it didn’t differ too much from the Wooden Arms album launch in Montreal.

Malajube attracted a thinner crowd than expected for their outdoor show, and while the music was good—from a bubblegum beginning, it quickly arced up into a raucous storm—the band’s notorious lack of engagement with its crowd dampened the affair.

Back at Cabaret, ’round midnight, was For Those About To Love, a quintet featuring ex-Dears Valerie Jodoin-Keaton, Martin Pelland and George Donoso III that echoes their previous band, minus the overwrought angst but with eruptive riffage galore (Jodoin-Keaton’s feminine reserve was a necessary anchor to the boys’ testicular torrents). The Marathon Man award goes to Pelland and Donoso, who split the next morning to play with Yann Perreau here in Montreal, then returned for a second midnight show even better than the first.

Piknic and poutine party

The imported Piknic Électronik on the waterfront of Lac Osisko the afternoon of Sept. 5, had a pretty thin turnout despite a bill with Le Matos and Poirier with his MC Face-T. Poirier’s tough Caribbean club jams were a hard sell in such a rock-centric milieu, though Omnikrom managed to get some stage-front critical mass at day’s end. It’ll take a few tries before the locals really dig into this event.

The well-received set by Sweden’s Thus:Owls at the Paramount that night, proved that the locals have a firm appreciation of colourful and emotive musical experimentation. Opening was Berithan Berio, essentially Brad Barr of the Slip in a trio setting, generating some elaborate, exploded-view meta-blues. Guitarist Barr wisely restrained himself, allowing equal time for his clever drummer/percussionist and the breathtaking harp work of Lhasa collaborator Sarah Pagé.

A festival standout was Indiana’s Left Lane Cruiser (as Americans, the only unapologetic Anglophones at hand) who busted out early blues covers with blistering meshback mania. Hardly the only blues-punk twosome going, these cats blew their contemporaries out of the water, and the packed Scène des Patriotes saluted them for it.

The night closed out with an impromptu late-night poutine party at 24-hour casse-croûte Chez Morasse (go ahead, giggle). Dropping some snappy dyke-lust ditties, Random Recipe won the crowd over and then some with a little faux-cowgirl shtick and a lot of charm and crazy, edge-of-disaster energy.

That wrapped up a worthy weekend in the sticks, at a fest that clearly fulfills its functions—to generate some cultural and economic heat and light in the region, and to showcase superior homegrown talent both in marginal local markets and, given the gaggle of squawking, smoke-stained Euro fest reps in attendance, beyond.