The Stoned Poet

It's Friday 25th October, I'm posting fliers on old rotten drabbed poles who await in silence and agony. No sun caresses their envies nor woman or man to soothe their naughty desires or nitty gritty ways. I look at my phone, it's six thirty, the perfect time to get a beer, a nick and let all hell loose. I take one last pictures of the flyers, I run to my car and light up a cigarette while listening to Bob Dylan's He Was A Friend of Mine. Outside, the leaves hang low and many have fallen, a keen reminder that change comes at a great price. The cold weather mixed with Dylan's vocals on the Bootleg Series 1 to 3 send a shiver down my spine as I survey the streets of Montreal going around Mount Royal in hopes to find a parking near Saint-Laurent boulevard. A right turn, left, stop, go, turn and finally bingo, a spot lays empty. I park and head down two blocks, turn left, get a beer, get out, meet Francois a homeless guy, buy him a cookie and off I go to the show at La ...

October the 4th, I hop in my car with Antoine. Beer, a will to escape the ever dooming future of my generation and a hope of finding a groove that'll set me free from all morality and elusive mind bending thoughts or anxieties.  On a warm hot gloomy yet breezy saturdy night, I had my car parked downtown over the hills and as I locked at my car, the question was, will it stay put, will it roll down? Oh whatever it'll be fine I guess. Antoine and I take our stuff and I leave a note saying I just moved in and thus do not have a vignette for my parking yet, hoping it'll disuade any officers or parking agent of leaving a ticket on my windshield. We go down and turn on mcgill and walk and turn again and walk while talking, drinking a beer and suddenly, Antoine asks the question,  ''So were is the show?'' I reply, '' It's in a YMCA, in a gym more specifically.'' ''Damn thats crazy, just like when we saw shows younger at school in the gym...

  October 2nd, I wanted to go see le P'tit Belliveau at Quai des Brumes . Of course, it was sold out. So I was about to dip. But, But But, my friend Charlotte insisted we stay to watch live music. So what stands besides Quai des Brumes other than the mytical Escogriffe !   Going inside, we are greeted with a 20$ or PWYC, so we get our money out and reluctantly or rather unsurely we give it to the door gal and in we are. On stage, a girl with long curly black hair is swaying left to right with her grey guild motherfucking cool looking guitar. She sings out words, plays her guitar and enchants anyone who locks regards with her while the bassist dressed with an oversized green slick shirt is, well let's put it this way, making love to his bass as he chants out the groove. The drummer in the back is controlled, tamed yet gashed with a wildness that is subtle yet thrilling. The guitarist seemed straight out of sitcom was a melody virtuoso. He definitely knew a thing or two abo...

September 5th there was a show at Bâtiment 7 . A maniacal show for sure! Everyone was there cunts, batters, mad hatter's, clowns and more underage uncivilized pot smokers. Girls boys, trans, and more were at the rendez vous for a five band lineup. I came up dressed, stressed and with little rest.  First up was Mildew , they crammed up the venue and tore down any worries of a bad show. Their act was on point, even better than anything I'd saw before. They seemed to be willing to destroy the place if possible. James the bassist was caught crowdsurfing and playing bass once again, Matteo was seen making love with the feedback of his amp with the guitar posted right in front! What was missing tho was a drummer to smash his kit. But I know, money is scarce and the kit wasn't his so their was no possibility of utterly destroying the whole kit! But they swept the kids off their feet. Stay Out by  Mitch Afterwards, I was out, it was too hot. Slackin Idle were about to go on, playi...

''Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope you've enjoyed your night up till now, I now ask you to scream as I welcome Bad Objection on stage!'' It was a night of restlessness. I'd been partying for so long, I couldn't even remember what it felt like to be sober. The sun had dried my neurons, the weed had enhanced my hearing and sight. Basically I felt I was living in a moonage daydream. I hung with Chad during the day and by six o'clock, we arrived at Trashcan . Monoliths of emptiness guarded the place, you can feel needles crawl under your arms, hear the skateboarders skate upon the diy ramps. Many used to be waiting for their man here, some still do, but overall, the place has calmed down. Rookies who start going to Trashcan now a days, missed the good old days where the old bartender would inject LSD in the water to get everyone high, gone are the days of weird allegations of sexual harassement, or people being invited to sleep upstairs waking up the next day r...

Work was over, it was exactly 18h. I went back home, tired as fuck. I wanted to slouch my self down a hole, dive deep in darkness and lay my bones to rest. But the road awaits, from the corner of my eyes, mushrooms rest in the corner of my room, posters are solidely pressed to the wall. The light beems, shine, twirls. I get up, dress up, and swoop right back in my car. Cigarette ashes flicker all over the car, as I drive in a hurry to hauler up around the north shore. But as I get around, I miss the autoroute's exit towards Laval, more driving and then surprised I am to realize I've once again missed the autoroute's exit again. Geez, I'm not even high yet, no flock flesh eating molecules are in my veins yet to be and yet I've missed two exits. Fast forward an hour later, I'm finally at Jake's house. We get all funky, funny and forward we go on a little trip to Oka, before daylight breaks calling the hoops and cooks on the road.  Oka was full of effing bugs, ...

   On est vendredi, Alice la chanteuse de Alice Bro Trio cherche un lift pour se rendre à Saint-Jacque de Leeds, plus précisément au Griendel , une microbrasserie qui se spécialise dans les évènements de Folk Sale. Je me propose et ainsi me voilà dans une aventure aux allures farfelues et rocambolesques.      Premièrement qu'est ce que le folk sale, c'est du folk accompagné d'un odeur de botch, loin du folk polie de Dylan. C'est un folk qui nous ramène à la réalité, qui nous dépeint la vie telle quelle de façon stoïque avec une touche d’empathie bien sûr mais tout en étant ferme sur les faits et la dureté parfois ou l’incohérence de la vie. Un folk écopant des injustices sociales, des enfants qui n'ont connu que miséricorde et désenchantement ainsi que les adultes qui ont vieilli sous le regard désabusé de la réalité. Le folk d'Alice Bro Trio, c'est un folk qui bouge, qui nous trimballe un peu partout, qui nous ramène au racine de la vie, la vie est un carr...

Birds Of Prrrey are one of the rare alternative indie rock band that have swept my heart since their emergence in the local scene around 2023. They recently released around July 6th, a EP titled Yet, We're Still Growing In Place . A title that is quite contradictory to what the group has been experiencing on the street levels. This years, they played Pouzza, they will soon, on the 26th of July, play Birdball which will be happening at La Sottorena serving as their EP release party. Why the fuck to they celebrate so late when their listenings has gone up and everybody has posted their story about being in heaven while listening to the new release weeks ago? Well simply because nothing is a hurry, it'll all come along in due time. The band has no interest in stressing things out, they go on gradually, giving blood were needed without ever straining themselves to a point of disdain of the once hobbyesque music making activity now becomed a more serious concern. They passed on CK...