Feb/Mar ‘25
Production Team
Editor Keeley Braunstein-Black editor@stylusmagazine ca
Assistant Editor . . . . . . . . Maggie A . Clark assistanteditor@stylusmagazine ca
Art Director Kelly Campbell design@stylusmagazine ca
Cover Art
. Cato Cormier
Advertising Contact Rob Schmidt manager@ckuw ca
Print by JRS Print Services . 204-232-3558
Contributors
Jonah Strassel
Jakob Spence
Sabbir Hossain
Mykhailo Vil’yamson
Bradi Breckman
Kiara Elizabeth
Amilia Fehr
Stylus is published bi–monthly by CKUW 95 9 FM, with a circulation of 2,500 . Stylus serves as the program guide to 95 .9FM CKUW and will reflect the many musical communities it supports within Winnipeg and beyond Stylus strives to provide coverage of music that is not normally written about in the mainstream media Stylus acts as a vehicle for the work of new writers, photographers and artists, including members of the University of Winnipeg, of CKUW and of the Winnipeg community at large Stylus reserves the right to refuse to print material, specifically, that of a racist, homophobic or sexist nature All submissions may be edited and become the property of Stylus All opinions expressed in Stylus are those of the contributors and do not necessarily reflect those of the editors Contributions in the form of articles, reviews, letters, photos and graphics are welcome and should be sent with contact information to:
Stylus Magazine
Bulman Student Centre, University of Winnipeg 515 Portage Avenue, Winnipeg, MB, R3B 2E9
Phone: 204-786-9785, Fax: 204-783-7080
Writing submissions: editor@stylusmagazine ca Graphics submissions: design@stylusmagazine ca
www .stylusmagazine .ca
Contributions will be accepted in the body of an email No attachments please All submissions may be edited and become the property of Stylus Unauthorized reproduction of any portion of Stylus is strongly discouraged without the express written consent of the editors
On the Cover
CATO CORMIER (she/they) makes comics, illustrations and public art. At the heart of their practice is a yearning to connect with others, often through humour. They draw in precise, eccentric lines that depict striking, highly-stylized characters. Find more of their work @cato_cormier on Instagram.
Blah Blah Blah
** Winter Blues Fest on Feb . 22 at Times Change(d) *** Distodius on Feb . 22 at Sidestage *** Soap Scum on Feb . 25 at Sidestage *** Skyzoo on Feb . 27 at Sidestage *** JD Edwards on Feb . 28 at Times Change(d) *** Fencing on Feb . 28 at Public Domain *** YSN FAB on Feb . 28 at Sidestage *** Chosen Family Band on Mar . 1 at Times Change(d) *** GMH on Mar . 2 at Sidestage *** Zachary Lucky on Mar . 6 at Times Change(d) *** Martin Kerr on
Mar . 6 at Sidestage *** Nola Night on Mar . 7 at Times Change(d) *** Jamboree on Mar . 7 at Park Alleys *** Bloodshot Bill + Poison Suckers on Mar . 8 at Times Change(d) ***
Ignite on Mar . 13 at Sidestage *** Heartwood on Mar . 13 at the WECC *** Still House Plants on Mar . 13 at Public Domain *** Blu & Exile on Mar . 14 at the WECC *** Dust Rhinos on Mar . 15 at the WECC *** One for Sorrow Two for Joy on Mar . 16 at the WECC *** Pinky Patel on
Live Music Happenings
Mar . 21 at the WECC *** Arrogant Worms on Mar . 22 at the WECC *** Ridley Bent + Leaf Rapids on Mar . 22 at Times Change(d) *** Mike Plume on Mar . 27 at Times Change(d) *** OP-ED + Mulligrub on Mar . 28 at the WECC *** Peacebreach EP release on Apr . 4 at Public Domain *** Ritchot Textiles EP release Apr . 5 at the Handsome Daughter *** Rose Cousins on Apr . 5 at the WECC *** James Keelaghan on Apr . 10 at the WECC *** ASKO on Apr . 11 at the WECC *** Dump Babes on Apr 17 at the WECC *** Noah Derksen Album release Apr . 18 at the WECC *** Meisha and the Spanks on Apr . 25 at the WECC *** Richard Moody Apr . 26 at the WECC
*** Festival du Voyaguer Feb . 1523 ***
CKUW SHOWS *** Lizzards on Feb . 15 at Public Domain *** Death Cassette on Feb . 21 at the WECC
BUSH LOTUS PERFORMING NOV 22 PHOTO BY JAKOB SPENCE
Concert Review: Sam Singer and the Beautiful Movers Orchestra
West End Cultural Centre (November 22, 2024)
Mere moments before accepting the illustrious 47th annual Schmolaris Prize, Winnipeg’s own revered singer/songwriter Sam Singer was busy gracing the stage at the West End Cultural Centre to celebrate the release of his second full-length album, Where the Rivers Do. What made this a truly special night was that Sam had assembled many of the key players from in and around the Winnipeg music scene, a collection of folks which he had dubbed The Beautiful Movers Orchestra. Ten moving parts on stage, each of them adorned in uniform jumpsuits sporting name tags, soulfully bringing layers of gorgeous sounding strings, horns, piano, and pedal steel guitar to the personal and emotional lyrics being crooned into the mic. Sam’s voice is so unique and the inflection he uses to accentuate it sounds almost as if Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen had a baby and that child grew up to join The Strawbs.
Prior to this, those in attendance were blessed by an equally moving set of opening performances. In between the endearing stage banter and the wonderfully well-rehearsed guitar solos, Sophie and Emma Stephens graced the stage as Buglando, playing songs that I can only describe as a comfort meal for the soul being fed to me through my ears. I like to think that after that set, at least one person in that crowd went home that night, immediately opened their laptop and purchased themself an omnichord. I myself put one on my Christmas list the following day. What a wild and interesting sounding instrument that is. Hopefully we see more of these being utilized and experimented with in the future.
Local indie folk-rock legend Bush Lotus, with her famous smile, took us away to another land as her soulful, jazzy vocals caressed the audience. Everyone seemed to sit completely
still and pay close attention. There is something so clean and tight in Bush Lotus’ sound that every time I see them perform, I am left with this overwhelming feeling of sadness and wanting more. Every note is executed so perfectly and with such precision, you can tell just how carefully these songs are written.
Those two opening acts were the perfect warm-up to an already highly anticipated evening of superbly written tunes. With a catalogue full of perfectly constructed songs spanning across nearly seven years, Sam Singer has to be one of Winnipeg’s most talented writers. It was great to hear his songs fleshed out with all the inner working parts live on stage with The Beautiful Movers Orchestra. Hopefully, this is not the last we see of this whole rat pack rounded up on stage performing these songs. It is too magical of a grouping to be a one-off performance.
JONAH STRASSEL
PHOTO BY JAKOB SPENCE
Concert Review: Holy Void
SABBIR HOSSAIN
I had been unaware of the local scene despite being a self-proclaimed “music lover” for much of my youth and adolescence. It wasn’t until I joined Stylus which presented me with a valid excuse to get out of my shell and see what Winnipeg’s vibrant music scene had to offer. There was only one problem — I didn’t even listen to the local artists. Much of my playlists were of artists signed to major record labels. My parents were immigrants and obviously weren’t immersed in the city’s arts or culture, and as a result, neither was I.
This review is from the perspective of someone who is far out-of-theloop. Needless to say, this left quite the impression on me moving forward. I’m here to discuss the concert that took place at the West End Cultural Centre (WECC) on December 13, 2024: “Oh Holy Night” — The Holy Void Album Release, and that featured Show Pony, and Tired Cossack as the openers. According to the description on the WECC’s website, this event promised to “blend the dark, atmospheric vibes with the high-energy, experimental sounds of prog punk and blistering rock’n’roll, creating an unforgettable holiday experience.” As far as I’m concerned (especially being
a novice concert-goer who doesn’t know what this description is supposed to look like), all three acts certainly delivered and I happily left the WECC eager to get my thoughts down. When I got in, my hand was stamped with a stamp that said “HOT GOTH.” I saw really cool merchandise there but the coolest thing I saw was a guy cosplaying as Krampus and snapped a selfie. I headed inside the auditorium but I was fairly early and arrived as soon as the doors opened, so I watched the crew set up equipment on stage and admired the fancy mixing/lighting board. Soon after, I noticed that people were slowly rolling in and a crowd had already formed and they had one thing in common — they were mostly middleaged white people — and because of that I felt really awkward being there but luckily this one person sat with me on a stool and we chatted about music and related stuff, and he had apparently graduated from the University of Winnipeg!
The first act of the evening was Tired Cossack, in which all of the four members had a distinct visual style on stage that captured my attention right off the bat, especially the one on the keys who had purple overalls and a nice smile. The lead vocalist’s energy resounded through the entire venue and there was a noticeable difference in the energy from the crowd compared to when the MC was introducing all of the acts. Furthermore, after about three songs, I noticed that people started to groove a lot more and the chemistry between all the members on the stage was a pleasant sight. A few things that stuck out to me from Tired Cossack’s performance were that they played a song that they had never practiced and throughout their set time the feedback from the amp was an intentional choice. This surprised me, as I thought it was faulty production. In retrospect, everything they did exacerbated their carefree sensibility if their music hadn’t already done the job.
I shifted towards the main crowd to get a better feel of the music which consisted of me awkwardly walking towards the left and right side of the venue, and the tone/texture was equally vibrant and rich everywhere, so I went back to my stool where I was sitting because more and more people started to roll in during their set.
After Tired Cossack’s set, it was time for Show Pony. The first show left me intrigued as to what to expect next — according to the show
HOLY VOID’S VIOLINIST
PHOTO BY KEELEY BRAUNSTEIN-BLACK
description, this event meant to blend all these atmospheric vibes together but how could a band as distinctive as Tired Cossack possibly be labelled or even sound “similar” to another group? Well, the promoter of the event must have known what they were doing because Show Pony separated themselves while also falling into an overarching mood.
Show Pony’s lead singer exuded dive energy and put on quite the show to say the least. All of the members had relatively long hair and occasionally
(and possibly unintentionally) flapped their long hair as if I wasn’t already convinced they were rockstars. In the middle of their set, the lead singer walked off stage during the climax of one of their songs, which left me and some others in the crowd a little confused, especially considering how she captured everyone’s attention so effortlessly. Lo and behold, she came back with a change in top and continued to put on an entertaining and eccentric show. They had switched colours from white to purple on the overhead lights every two bars in a song, which was so smoothly integrated that I don’t think anyone in the center of the crowd would have noticed.
When Show Pony had finished, I could still feel the bass reverberate through the concert hall and my entire body. During this intermission, I was momentarily convinced I was at a beer festival
instead of an album release because of all the beer I saw. I was so impressed by the lighting during the show that I went up to the team that handled all of that towards the back of the venue and complimented them. In return, I received an awesome fist-bump and was told that I’d be in for a real treat when Holy Void was on. Finally, it was time for the headliners to perform. Their MC had some goggles that looked like they might have been worn by Robocop. (I’m fairly uncultured as far as sci-fi goes, so I could be wrong but you get the point.) Their performance sounded a lot better compared to when I listened to their album on Apple Music, yet another reminder that I need to see more live events and stop being chronically online. On the stage, they had lights that looked like prison watchtowers and beamed in a way like they were searching for a suspect in the crowd. One of the member’s guitars also glared light at my face like a sniper from Modern Warfare. For better or worse, the lighting team did not lie when they said I was in for a good one. The drums, bass, and lead guitar all flowed coherently while accompanying the rock sound that came from them — honourable mention to the vocalists and amps.
The crowd chanted “one more song!” right after they supposedly finished their set, and the band came through once more to deliver for the eager folks. Although I couldn’t make out what any of the lyrics were for the entire time I was in attendance for this event, I did leave with a positive impression solely for the drums, lighting, facial expressions, and the characters these artists performed as a part of their show.
Now that I can finally say that I support local talent, I left the WECC feeling very much content and three bands more familiar with the local scene. It was one of those events that make you question how much you had been out of the loop — especially in estimating the number of people in the city who are fiends for craft breweries.
HOLY VOID
PHOTO BY KEELEY BRAUNSTEIN-BLACK
SHOW PONY
PHOTO BY KEELEY BRAUNSTEIN-BLACK
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PHOTOS BY KIARA ELIZABETH
CKU Who?
MAGGIE A . CLARK
PHOTO PROVIDED BY PATRICK MICHALISHYN
Stylus caught up with Patrick Michalishyn — hot sauce salesman, proprietor of the Sounds Escaping record label, and host of CKUW’s “The Wonderful & Frightening World of Patrick Michalishyn” — for about an hour-and-a-half on January 10, 2025. Excerpts from our conversation are printed below.
Stylus: How long have you been doing the show?
Patrick Michalishyn (PM): So, this Fundrive coming up is my twentieth anniversary. [...] It’s my favourite thing in the world. I love it. [...] Some people go to church for their once-a-week spiritual refresh, and I do the radio show. And it’s been the same time slot for 20 years too! Everyone hates my time slot. [...] No one else wants to take it.
Stylus: Describe your show. What’s the hook and why should people stay up ’til the wee hours of the morning to listen to it?
PM: I named the show after the Fall album The Wonderful and Frightening World of the Fall and John Peel famously said, “it could be Mark E. Smith and your granny on bongos, and it’s still
The Fall.” [...] If I have a guest on, it kind of skews towards what they’re into; it changes all the time, but it’s always “The Wonderful & Frightening World of Patrick Michalishyn.” [...] I bring a ton of weird music and I just want it to be the most alien jukebox experience — still pleasant, but just weird. And it’s everything from video game soundtracks to early ’50s/’60s electronic music to punk rock to post-whatever to spoken word. [...]
My friend Leif Norman comes on quite often and we figured out a way to run our synthesizers right into the board, so we’ll bring spoken word records and put it on the turntable and then do synth music for the whole side of the record. So it’ll be, like, an old radio announcer reading Moby-Dick excerpts and underneath it we’re playing keyboards and synths and arpeggios. [...] It’s one of those things where, if you tune in at midnight, [...] it’s just a weird, eclectic hangout. You can be scared but know that you’re safe.
Stylus: You used to write for Stylus back in the day . Do you have any fond memories of your time with us?
PM: Yeah, I loved going to the Mondragon in the Exchange District. The food was great and it never got eaten ’cause it was a ton of hummus, ton of dip, ton of veggies, but at the end of it, I used to get to take it home. I liked getting the big box that we would pass around and we could take 10–15 CDs and write as many reviews as we could. [...] Back in my day, Stylus was, like, 30 to 40 pages long. It’s nuts. [...] It was super, super fun and it was cool as a twenty-something-year-old who loved to write and loved music [...]
The Wonderful & Frightening World of Patrick Michalishyn
Fridays 12 - 6 AM
Getting onto the radio [and] writing about music in print seemed like such an impenetrable thing and then you realize that there are communities that are put together to knock that wall down.
Stylus: That definitely resonates with my experience as well. I just — spurof-the-moment one day a couple years ago — sent an email to Keeley [Braunstein-Black] being like, “hey, could I write for Stylus?” And she was like,“yes,” and that’s it. You don’t actually need qualifications for anything at all!
PM: No, god! You just fake it ’til you make it.
Stylus: What’s your favourite song that you’ve never played on the show and why haven’t you played it?
PM: I’ve played everything I’ve ever wanted to play on the show. I’m on at midnight ’til whenever, so there aren’t too many people that I can offend. I have played 75-minute-long songs if I ever needed a nap. We used to have a couch in the station, so I would throw on an Acid Mothers Temple song and I would sleep for 45 minutes and it’s great. [...] I like that I have so much freedom at my time slot that I can play five-second songs, I can just play TV commercials [...], I can play crazy Japanese psychedelic music, I can do a show where I play one song an hour that’s an hour long, and that’d be my show.
Stylus: For sure. I love a song that is longer than 12 minutes. Just pointblank — I’m willing to make that claim entirely. Every song that is longer than 12 minutes is good.
PM: Well, now I just wanna make your life hell. I’m gonna find you some “Free Bird” extended live versions and make you a mix CD. It’s just gonna be, like, four versions of “Free Bird.”
Stylus: Please do! [...] Do you have any “concert regrets” — like, any shows
you wish you could have attended in retrospect?
PM: Yeah, there’s shows that I either wish I attended or wish that I cared about at the time. I think I’m cursed in the way that, once I get into a band, [...] within six months, a key member dies. Every fucking time. When I got into The Cramps, Lux [Interior] died very soon after. When I got into Broadcast, Trish Keenan died, so I try not to listen to any new music. I only listen to bands where everyone’s already deceased.
Stylus: You see, this happens to me but in the opposite direction where I only find out about new bands after someone in the band has already died and that’s why people are bringing [them] up.
PM: When I was writing for Stylus, I reviewed the first Mother Mother album. [...] I got the album, I hadn’t reviewed it yet, the band played, and then I listened to the album the next day and I’m like “holy shit, this is amazing,” and I had missed them. And then everything else after that, it was more polished, trying to sound more, like, CBC Radio 3-ready, [...] trying to sound like Imagine Dragons or some shit.
Stylus: The reason I ask about concert regrets is because, a while back, you mentioned seeing Damo Suzuki in 2007 and 2012, and that’s how I found out that he played here and I missed it. So, let’s talk about my favourite part of the show: the compulsory Can. What is it about them that compels you to
play a song of theirs in each and every episode?
PM: A high school friend of mine — [...] Eric, who was really into krautrock and experimental music — he’s the guy who got me into Can. And it was right around the time that those SACD reissues were coming out, so [...] I bought all the ones that they didn’t disown. [...] With all these CDs that I had coming in, [...] the only way I could get through them was if I shared them on the radio show. And then [Power] 97 had “mandatory Metallica” and I thought, “well, why don’t I just make up a stupid alliteration and be the furthest thing from Metallica?”
Stylus: Here’s where I confess to being a bit of a “fake fan” — I’ve only listened to their early Suzuki-era albums [Tago Mago, Ege Bamyasi, and Future Days]. For the uninitiated, do you have a favourite post-Suzuki Can cut or album?
PM: Soon Over Babaluma, probably, ’cause it’s the one right after he left, so it still kinda has that Can feel. [...] I’d say avoid Rite Time. I love Malcolm Mooney a lot, but it’s just not that great of an album. And luckily, more of this stuff is coming out — these live albums are amazing ’cause it’s like this cool improv soup that’s bubbling and bubbling and bubbling, but then once in a while this song morsel breaks through the surface and you hear a little bit of “Spoon” or a little bit of “Vitamin C,” and then it goes back into being this interplay between all these people onstage. It’s like seeing Nessie
Local Releases
G-384
JASON TAIT / PATRICK MICHALISHYN
Some readers may well be scratching their heads right about now.
“Jason Tait, huh? Yeah, I recognize him. The drummer from Red Fisher and that
surface and then disappear again.
Stylus: I’ve heard you mention on the show that you buy CDs. I’m just glad someone out there is still doing that!
PM: [I’m] very much a CD guy! It’s more affordable, it takes up less space [than vinyl] [...], I like being able to spend $15 and get 70 minutes of music versus spending $70 and getting 35 minutes of music.
Stylus: This one’s a bit more speculative, but where do you think recorded media goes from here? How will people be listening to music in 50 years’ time? Will CDs make a comeback at some point or will they continue their slow fade into obsolescence?
PM: I don’t think they’re gonna fade into obsolescence. [...] I think that there’s always gonna be a place for physical media, especially given the way that streaming is going. The anger at Spotify is something that’s been bubbling up like crazy, and the use of them making their own AI music and playlists, so they can keep money from the artist — buying physical media is still gonna be the most permanent way for you to get music and support the artists you want to support. [...] Two generations now have come to think that music is just this free thing and all these artists now need to get second jobs. [...] If people just keep going that way, then physical media will die and also all the art that you like is gonna die and you’re just gonna get this robot amalgam of what [Spotify thinks] you want to hear.
other band — you know, the one with that song about Gump Worsley! Patrick Michalishyn, though: now where have I seen that name before?”
Try “one page ago,” on account of the above CKUWho? profile. In the interest of full transparency, I should mention that he did ask me to review his split tape, and I obliged. So let it be known — if you ask nicely
enough and I have a spare evening, I’ll just do whatever you say. I’m easygoing and I crave the approval of others! (And on that note: if you have an album you’d like me to review, shoot me an email at assistanteditor@ stylusmagazine.ca.)
I know I called G-384 a “split tape” a second ago — and, to be fair, Michalishyn told me the release would be accompanied by a
limited cassette printing — but that’s really more of a naming convention. It’s certainly catchier than “split series-of-five-MP3s-in-azip-file.” It goes to show that the terminology we use to describe music hasn’t quite caught up to the digital means through which it is now often mediated. Description, almost by definition, lags the reality it is meant to capture. Must communication remain forever imprecise?
I don’t know! I don’t have time to think about that right now. I have a split tape to review! “NYE2024,” the first of Tait’s two contributions succeeded by Michalishyn’s three, kicks things off with a low hum punctuated by synthetic vocal notes that soon form an ostinato. A minute later, an electronic drum pattern enters the fray and is further supplemented with an icy arpeggio.
It’s all very Oneohtrix Point Never, sure, but I’d like to highlight a different point of reference. I was pleasantly reminded of the soaring, royalty-free synth tracks that Jon Bois deploys to great effect in his YouTube documentaries about real-life deaths caused by slipping on a banana peel or the history of the Seattle Mariners. (Some may say these topics are one in the same.) I feel like I’m about to watch Edgar Martínez rip a walk-off line drive into deep left field — or, to put it in terms to which the non-sportsheads can relate, it prompts a palpable sense of anticipation and forward momentum.
I could get into the skittering, staticky groove of “Cool Phosphene Trick,”
but I want to skip right to the finale, “We’ll Get ’Em Next Time.” Dovetailing nicely with the opener, it too fades in with an ominous drone and approaches a nine-minute runtime. But here, the sluggish, woozy instrumentation is intercut with slowed-down audio of Aldous Huxley warning a BBC interviewer about the dangers of technological growth: one gets the sense that, as he put it, “man is being subjected to his own inventions, that he is now the victim of his own technology […] instead of being in control of it.”
In this, I hear echoes of Marx’s famous observation that people “do not make [history] under selfselected circumstances, but under circumstances existing already, given and transmitted from the past,” applied in this instance to the realm of gizmos and gadgets. It also evokes, to my analogy-addled mind, Louis Althusser’s claim that “the reproduction of the material conditions of production cannot be thought at the level of the firm, because it does not exist at the level of its real conditions. What happens at the level of the firm is an effect…” (my emphasis).
So too with individuals. What happens in our own lives is likewise an effect — not merely of technology, but of capital, infectious disease, acts of God, dumb luck. Our lives are governed by these powerful, mysterious, sinister forces, their reach extending far beyond any individual’s capacity for comprehension. How much control over our surroundings have we ever truly possessed?
Michalishyn, via Huxley, is hitting at a question I ask myself nightly: were we put on this earth to suffer, to be swept beneath the tide of endless cataclysm? Are we born to die?
It’s an admittedly selfdefeating thought pattern — one that can provoke an abject, demobilizing terror if left unchecked. Or rather, it would produce such dread, were it not for the goofiness of the wonky, manipulated delay attached to the messenger’s Oxbridge affect. Nonetheless, I must applaud Michalishyn for teeing me up perfectly to launch into my usual schtick of quoting some long-dead commie philosopher in the music zine I help edit. Thanks, bud! I owe you one. Maggie
A . Clark
YOU BE GOOD NOW LEON’S GETTING LARGER
“These aching bones, these two years at home, all these things I own, I think they’re plotting against me.” — Leon’s Getting Larger (“Oh the Places You’ll Go”)
After several years of live shows, singles and EPs, Manitoba band Leon’s Getting Larger released their first official album last fall. You Be Good Now is a collection of old and new tracks that combine aspects of alternative, rock, indie and
emo genres into a cohesive sound. The album features a mix of short and long songs which, when listened to in order, blend into one another, engulfing the listener in the sound, and not letting them leave until the final chord is struck.
The instrumentals on this album are exciting and skillful. Leon’s Getting Larger boasts their earworming guitar riffs and energy-infused percussion through each track on the album. Nearly every song features an instrumental interlude, and it is highly deserved considering the expertise of this band’s string and drum musicians. They bring the rock factor to what would otherwise be an indieemo band, and they bring it with force.
Leon’s lead singer commands the audience’s attention through his low-pitched, unique voice. He conveys intense emotion in each track, tackling lyrics that deal with heartache, politics, and self- deprecation with the severity they deserve. The band adapts to the content of the lyrics with their tone, switching from intensity in the politically charged “Act Surprised” to playfulness in “Seasoned Alive” (a song which features witty foodrelated metaphors such as “Thousand Island stare” and “medium-well mistakes”). Humour pops up in this album’s other tracks like “Don’t Call Me Jared,” which makes fun of its narrator, saying, “Like the weatherman, I’m always wrong.” However, Leon’s best songwriting comes in their darker moments, through the lovestruck and love-scorned
lines of “Antoinette” and the classic emo poeticism in “Oh The Places You’ll Go”. Leon’s Getting Larger excels in their lyricism and the melodies that convey it.
From top to bottom, this was an inventive and engaging album that held my attention the whole way through. It is available to stream on Apple Music and Spotify, and I highly recommend that fans of alt-rock and emo music check it out! Bradi Breckman
SECRETS AND SELECT MISSIONS ORELANDS
Even though one might see the We, Here and Now! record label and mistakenly assume that Orelands must be made up of Shakespearean bards from the Stratford Festival in Ontario, the band itself emerged from the hard rock, zinc-laden mining town of Flin Flon. Though only one member of this three-piece actually lives there – i.e., the drummer, Dean Martin – both Jay Hovland (songwriter, guitarist, vocalist) and Scott Ellenberger (bassist) also have roots in Flintabbatey Flonatin.
Their late December 2024 release Secrets and Select Missions could be best described as Dreamo Psych
Rock, with its highly textured, multi-layered, repeating patterns of instrumentation, as well as the consistently unpredictable manifoldlyvoiced poetic turns of phrase. The lyrics are cryptic yet familiar, necessitating relistening in order to muse about what’s being said. Each song is relatively slow, steady and pensive; at times folk rock-ish, and other times spacey. From the shortest song (“All Seasons” at 2:26) to the longest one (“Means/ End” at 5:19), the album feels like a record spinning: there’s a cyclical rhythm to things. And speaking of physical copies, it’s currently available on cassette (unless the short run of 30 is gone by the time these words are being read). Amusing aside: on the label’s Bandcamp site, the digital album – presumably to encourage purchases of tapes, or to have a laugh (or both) – is listed as $999 CAD! But not to worry: the reader will be able to get these nine songs for a mere nine dollars directly from Orelands’ own Bandcamp page (and likely from We, Here and Now! once the limited edition “Under a Prairie Sky” cassettes are sold out).
While “Means/End” reminds me to a certain extent of the Danish band Mew and “Countdown” is slightly reminiscent of Beck’s more indie folk songs, most of their sound is uniquely theirs and hard to describe by comparison. My suggestion: if you need a break sometime this week to zone out — as I’m sure you do — grab your noise-cancelling headphones, pour yourself a drink, find a comfortable chair, and settle
in as Orelands transports you somewhere else for half an hour (or longer, if/when you choose to play it through start-to-finish for a second or third time). Mykhailo Vil’yamson
CASA ROSSO WITCH HAZEL
Clicking around on Bandcamp again, I stumbled upon a local indie-rock outfit known as Witch Hazel. Now, maybe I should have heard of them by now; I am, after all, a writer for Stylus Magazine. But what you might not know about me is that I am a lousy, no-good dilettante, so it takes me a while to catch on to small details like “what bands exist in Winnipeg in 2025.”
Anyway, I’m inclined to support any band that names itself after hemorrhoid relief ointment and I heard they were playing Winterruption this year, so I figured I’d check ’em out. But there’s a problem: their website claims that they “[provide] the soundtrack to your already badass life.”
Setting aside how annoying it is to describe yourself that way, I must object to the insinuation that I am “already” badass. I don’t know how to skateboard! I don’t do any of the “cool” drugs! I don’t orchestrate bank heists or hold up trains! I’m looking at
my bookshelf right now, and you wanna know what’s on it? The 18th edition of The Chicago Manual of Style. I am a monumental dork and, if this music is intended solely for badasses, I’m afraid you’ll have to count me out.
Witch Hazel’s sophomore EP, Casa Rosso (released January 4, 2025), opens with a rumbling, bassy crescendo presumably meant to evoke the THX theme. Some may say that trick’s played out by now, but I wouldn’t! I still dig that sort of thing. (If anything, there should be more THX-style motifs in the world!) No, my issue is more with the overly polished production. This has been compressed within an inch of its life. It’s like someone sanded this thing into a perfectly smooth orb. I get the feeling that the band would sound much more dynamic live than they do on this record.
“The way you held me made me feel more, more alone / Than being stoned with all your shitty friends,” sings — well, whichever one of Drew De Pape, Ben Plett, Christian Payette, or Ron Almonte is their lead vocalist (neither their website nor Bandcamp page gives any indication) — on “Guaranteed,” a rollicking tune with kinda-sorta math/ surf vibes.
I enjoy a snide, punchy lyric as much as the next asshole, but I’m not sure I understand the premise of this one. For one thing, being held feels great, almost irrespective of context; for another, my friends are delightful! Thus, by the transitive property, their friends must be pretty cool too. I gather that this
is a critique many men have of their significant others’ friends, and I just don’t get it. Then again, life’s full of all manner of incomprehensible occurrences, and I can’t be
party to all of them, so I’m sure the sentiment is bound to resonate with someone.
On the whole, I’d say that the EP offers solid instrumentation (in particular, I’d like to extend two thumbs up to the drumming in “Sweet Was Yesterday”) at the cost of the aforementioned production and iffy lyricism. And that’s fine. It isn’t illegal for music to be just OK. Maggie A . Clark
Releases From Away
THE WAY OUT OF EASY
Jeff Parker ETA IVtet
I listen to a lot of jazz at this time of year.
Between my graduate studies and biweekly Leninist reading group, I spend many an afternoon with my nose buried in a PDF. But, you see, my mind wanders, and I can’t stand to be left alone with my thoughts for longer than about 50 seconds at a time. Naturally, this is a situation that calls for some tunes, but lyrical music often distracts me from the text I’m supposed to be reading or writing! What’s a girl to do?
That’s a rhetorical question, of course. I already gave the answer in my lede: throw on some fuckin’ jazz, baby !!
Released late last year, The Way Out of Easy was recorded on January 2, 2023, at the now-defunct Los Angeles bar ETA — hence the name of the IVtet (which, based on the way it’s represented textually, I assume is meant to be pronounced “four-
tet”?). The album contains four extemporaneous jam sessions, as hypnotic as they are meandering. And I do mean “meandering” — the shortest clocks in at 16:45. Because I’m a sucker for this exact sort of self-indulgent riffing, I was hooked instantly.
The opener “Freakadelic” reminded me, quizzically, of a now-deleted post by Twitter user @weedguy420boner about former Maryland governor Martin O’Malley, who campaigned to be the Democratic nominee for president of the United States in 2016.
To wit: “Martin omalley [sic] you got a children’s book ass name. You sound like the mailman in a town where everyone’s a bear.” To me, the first few minutes of “Freakadelic” sound as though they’re ripped from the score of the film adaptation of that book. Please note that I cannot possibly begin to justify this claim. It is derived from a thought that sprang to mind haphazardly and without logical basis; it is pure nonsequitur. You will either have to take it or leave it.
“Late Autumn” takes its sweet time to get going but, once all four musicians enter the picture, the pieces slot into place and what follows is an arresting, transcendent
bit of improv. At around the 13-minute mark, an audience member can be heard shouting “C’mon!”. Whether this was meant with encouragement or disdain, I cannot say, but I am staring daggers at this person in my mind palace. (“Hey! You brought me out of the most wonderful trance just now. Shut up!”)
To understand why this album — and improvisational jazz more broadly — works, it’s useful to divide the players into their respective sections: rhythm and melodic. Beginning with the former, bassist Anna Butterss and drummer Jay Bellerose provide a stabilizing presence, anchoring each composition with a steady, comforting pattern you could set your watch to. Meanwhile, what saxophonist Josh Johnson and guitarist Jeff Parker bring to the table is variation and intrigue (and even, in some of the spacier, droneadjacent moments, unease).
Each section is reliant on — and cannot be understood without — the other. They exist, in other words, in a dialectical relationship.
Just as class struggle is the motor of history, the rhythm/ melody contradiction is what propels music forward. In no genre is this made more apparent than in jazz — and especially so in records like this one, where every player is so dialled in. Thus, when a rock star like Randy Bachman asserts that his
former bandmate Garry Peterson “can be replaced by a drum machine” or Burton Cummings calls him “just the drummer,” they badly miss the point. In a selfish attempt to exalt themselves as The Only True Artists, they forget that a band succeeds or fails as a collective. A whole cannot exist without the sum of its constituent parts.
And that goes for recording and distribution too! As talented as the IVtet are, I couldn’t have heard them in the first place if not for the efforts of engineer Bryce Gonzales, masterer Dave Cooley, the web administrators who keep Bandcamp up and running, and countless unknown others who gathered, processed, and assembled the metal, plastic, and wooden components of their instruments. The masses are as much the makers of music as they are of history. So while I would love to end on some sweeping conclusion about how dad rock is a tool of the bourgeoisie — while jazz expresses the true will of the proletariat! — I would not dare to be so bold and self-congratulatory (and, moreover, I have not conducted the requisite social investigation to confirm such a hypothesis). Instead, I will simply say this: I highly recommend The Way Out of Easy. This shit slaps. Thank your bus driver. Maggie A . Clark
