Pop Montreal Day One: Golems On Film And Boys In The Ring

ChartAttack sent Lorraine Carpenter to check out the adventure that is Pop Montreal. Here's her Wednesday report:

6:45 p.m. Yves Laroche's l'Autre Gallerie
I arrived at Yves Laroche's l'Autre Gallerie in pretty little old Montreal for Jack Dylan's vernissage, titled Antidepressants For The Coming Apocalypse. His ubiquitous cartoon show-posters are so renowned in these parts that they're becoming self-referential, and people get it. The paintings supersize his poster style with portraits of Al Gore, Mel Gibson, Spiderman and a nude, gun-toting Samuel L. Jackson surrounded by writhing snakes. They're big slabs of eye candy with subtle textures, sampled patterns and stark titles like "Terror."

The crowd browsed, drank and listened to the ambient beginning of a live set by Miracle Fortress (a.k.a. Graham Van Pelt of Think About Life). Alternating between guitar and drums, he worked live samples and pre-recorded sounds into the mix. There were shades of "Everybody Hurts" when the vocals kicked in, as he's making cornball rock ballads cool for the kids.

Less cool was the situation at the bar. I was only two beers in when they ran out of St-Ambroise. To my horror, I was served warm Bud Lite instead. Could I get it down? Oh God, no.

7:45 p.m.
There was fresh hell outside the gallery as the weather suddenly turned foul. The frigid bluster blew my cheap umbrella in half. Adding to the pretty picture were the military helicopters circling overhead, reportedly conducting "surveillance exercises." (I fell asleep to their maneouvers over the nearby highway later.)

8:15 p.m. St. Jean Baptiste
The "Chocolate Mushroom Jewish Psychedelic Communion" (a.k.a. the festival's public opening-night party), held in conjunction with the Film Pop wing of the operation, took place at the St. Jean Baptiste church on Rachel. I took a pass on the earlier invitation-only party at the Alfred Dallaire on St-Laurent because the idea of eating sushi at a funeral home disturbed me.

I was right on time for Gary Lucas (of Captain Beefheart and Gods And Monsters fame) playing a chilling, trippy live soundtrack along to The Golem, a 1920s German expressionist film about a figure from Jewish mythology who was half Frankenstein monster, half clay handyman. Goosebumps intensified as I walked through the musty, half-darkened church in search of the bathroom, located in the freezing-cold basement. On the way out, I ran into Gonzales, whose headlining set on the pipe organ was a disaster, by all accounts. Luckily, I missed it completely.

9:20 p.m. Patati Patata
I warmed up and refuelled at Patati Patata, a sweet, cheap greasy-spoon on the corner of Rachel and St-Laurent. The World Provider and bandmate (and mate) Stacey DeWolfe were in the house. The guy behind the counter was incredulous when I told him that I was eating my first poutine in two years. Why would I lie?

10:30 p.m. Academy Club
An invisible towel dispenser in the handicapped stall of Academy Club's bathroom hit me in the head — my first injury of the night. Soon afterward, a shirtless man in a Mexican wrestling mask jabbed me in the face with a pickle. Neither assault left a mark.

I was at Montreal's third official iPod battle, a French concept wherein three DJ teams in a boxing ring vie for the crowd's love by playing minute-and-a-half samples of killer tracks — typically one selection per turn, but medleys were allowed. Zoobizarre's resident DJs, Why Alex Why? and Vvilaine, tossed Wonder Bread around as part of their "white trash" concept.

Later, fellow Zoobizarre DJs Sons Of Warsaw gyrated in masks and matching red boxer-briefs, passing pickles to the ladies. With Quebecois classics from Marjo and Mitsou, retro techno bangers ("No Limit") and super-cool trash ("Mr. Personality"), the Zoobizarre crews seemed to outdo the club cuts and kitschy ballads of their opponents. Regardless, the ref and her applause metre deemed Omnikrom, John Lee & Jordan Dare (who were great) and Teki Latex of TTC (a renowned French hip-hop act who play Pop Montreal on Thursday) the winners of the first three rounds, even with Omnikrom's technical flubs and Teki's fat ass. Those guys just had more friends in the room.

12:15 a.m. Zoobizarre
I arrived at Zoobizarre, a tiny cavern on the tacky strip of St-Hubert, a down market outdoor arcade. The scene was solemn at first, with the bar practically empty and the band (Austin, Texas' TunaHelpers) singing slow, lilting melodies in their lacy goth dresses. But their puppet show was charming, and the mood lightened as the room started to fill up. Seeing The World Provider (now backed by a power trio) was a great way to end a weird first night.

The festival was clearly meant to come in like a lamb, with only 16 shows, the bulk of them down-tempo acts like Damien Jurado, Vashti Bunyan, Lily Frost and Mansfield TYA. But, of course, this is only the beginning...