Duchess Says Triumph In Montreal

"Je suis tellement content (I'm so happy)," Duchess Says lead singer Annie-Claude Deschenes said with a weight-releasing sigh early in the band's album-launching set at La Tulipe. Although those words were delivered at a much lower register than her usual blood-curdling screams, they were just as genuine. Since 2003 the group have moved from Quebec City to Montreal, expanded from a duo to a foursome, and have increased in stature from "that keyboard band with the screaming girl" to become Montreal's most dynamic and sure-footed dance-punk renegades. They've come a long way and Deschenes obvious relief early in Thursday's set signified a new benchmark for the globetrotting group. After years of toiling and paying their dues, Duchess Says finally have an album out: Anthologie Des 3 Perchoirs (Anthology Of The 3 Perches).

For the near-capacity crowd at the mid-sized La Tulipe, it may have been strange to celebrate Duchess Says' debut because they've been playing these songs for so long. Well-worn live tracks like "Black Flag" received huge cheers from the knowledgeable, sweaty crowd. This wasn't just a victory for the deserving band, but also for the dedicated, continuously growing fanbase that pushed this group the old-fashioned way: through shows, singles and word-of-mouth advertising. Duchess Says are no 21st century MySpace discovery. They epitomize the live band who went through a long learning process in front of a crowd, but have finally perfected their sound and image.

To describe Duchess Says on paper can be difficult, since their own "moog rock" tag isn't particularly apt. If anything, they sound like Death From Above 1979 if squelching keyboards were their primary instruments.

Keyboardist/guitarist Ismael Tremblay kept the short compositions moving at a frantic pace and usually played quick bursts of a couple repeated notes. The rhythm section of bassist/guitarist Philippe Clement and drummer Simon Besre provided the greatest musical distinction between Duchess Says and the myriad of other local noise rockers. They used plenty of hi-hats and cool basslines, which meant that even when Tremblay went ballistic on the keys, there was always a subtle, disco/new wave consistency to the group's playing.

Although Duchess Says were tight, Deschenes was truly the star of the show. She moshed barefoot in the crowd, ripped off her shirt in a fit of passion (revealing her brassiere) and chugged a beer while the contents dribbled down her chin. Deschenes electrified the audience with her carnal screams and frightening, near-psychotic wide-eyed stares. I'm not sure how much her English has improved (she spoke in french to the crowd) but Deschenes has international star power potential. She's a troublemaking pixie possessed by the devil, who's capable of hypnotizing a crowd with one demonic glance. Near the end of the set, Deschenes performed a ritualistic water-pouring rock baptism on some hapless and hopelessly grinning young man, and even that absurd moment seemed perfectly believable. Duchess Says played for more than 75 minutes — a surprisingly long time, but understandable given the event's celebratory nature.

The group will head back to Europe and thus far there are no shows coming up in the rest of Canada. But after their coronation last Thursday in their hometown, it seems inevitable that Duchess Says will soon take their dance explosion across the country.