Pop Montreal Day Four: Under Byen Drowned Out By Crowd Chatter

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

8:15 p.m. Saphir
I shouldn't have been surprised that the goth broad at the door didn't realize that there was a festival on. Her face was contorted with confusion at the sight of my media pass and the gold wristband flashed by some guy who arrived at the same time. Book Of Lists were already on stage, so I skipped the explanation and walked past her to join a dozen-or-so spectators in the corner of the room.

I also shouldn't have been surprised at the low turnout, with all of the weekend's competition, the earliness of the hour and the lazy in-joke that's the group's write-up in the festival program, one of many tossed-off blurbs that are a sad disservice to the bands. But even if it had mentioned the roots of this Vancouver "supergroup" — it features members of Radio Berlin, The Secret Three and TALA. Band — chances are that the crowd would've been thin anyway.

It's too bad, because their Red Arrow EP was a winner, brimming with enough classic pop atmosphere to keep The New Pornographers on their toes, and word is that there's an LP in the works. The performance was solid, if not spectacular, but I imagine that it's hard to muster much energy in a virtually empty goth bar at 8 p.m.

9 p.m. Petit Campus
Right around the corner was the heavy, hairy rock show presented by Bionic's Jonathan Cummins, who, of course, inserted his band into the bill. The first act was scheduled to begin as I arrived, but the room was virtually empty and Cummins was shovelling some pre-show eats into his mouth, possibly sacrificing some of it to his beard. (Whether the carpet matches the tablecloth is a question I'd rather not ponder, let alone ask, but I'm putting it out there for someone else to tackle.) Sortie. (That's French for exit.)

9:10 p.m. Cabaret
Just down the street, I got stamped for a show that I was sure would be packed to the brim later on, that of Denmark's Under Byen. Before I heard the band's third album — Samme Stof Som Stof, out on Toronto's Paper Bag Records — they were described to me as a cross between Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Arcade Fire and Bjork. But comparisons don't really cut it when it comes to this stirring chamber rock ensemble. They were nowhere to be seen while I was there, however, and the opener didn't hold much appeal, so I headed back out.

9:20 p.m. Petit Campus
The crowd had somehow tripled in my brief absence, and a pack of heavily tattooed, carefully coiffed punks I noticed earlier — who'd look almost emo if it weren't for their hair-metal and classic rock band shirts — were on stage. Disco Tigers gave their instruments (including the singer's vocal chords) a good, sound thrashing, shooting off hard rock tunes with metal, garage and southern boogie undercurrents.

Unfortunately, a throng of sports fans were distracted by the hockey game unfolding silently on the bar's televisions, and although they were standing near the stage, their heads were turned away from the band. The singer was annoyed by the lack of raucous adoration in the room, and proceeded to bash the crowd with whiny sarcasm between songs. But he was speaking in French, so his abuse was probably lost on who I'm guessing were Ontario boys.

11 p.m. Cabaret
I couldn't imagine that scenario playing out for Under Byen, yet that show was also marred by a spent and distracted crowd. It was their second gig of the festival — the first was Thursday at the Ukrainian Federation — and here's hoping that the hard-working octet got a better reception there. The room was half-full, for starters, and the crowd was restless, chatty and trying hard to get loaded, apart from a few zombies who looked like they were sweating off last night's hangover.

I don't think that it hurt the band's performance (a great sound, but a dull spectacle), but it was disheartening to hear their silences cluttered up with crowd chatter.

I recently interviewed Grizzly Bear's Edward Droste, who complained that it's hard to enjoy a show when you're running from venue to venue, trying to pack in as many bands as possible. And although I've seen a lot of great sets that way, his comment is apt when it comes to shows like these, where mood is paramount. Under Byen would be significantly more magical in winter, in an antique theatre with seating. Under these circumstances, the normally charming Cabaret didn't work, and the weight of the music only made me pine for bed. So I headed home early, disappointed. What kind of Saturday night was this? Well, at least there's still tomorrow...