Monday, 9 May 2016

Protomartyr | Sonic Avenues | Fake Palms

Show: Protomartyr + Sonic Avenues + Fake Palms
Venue: La Vitrola, Montreal

Date: Thursday, May 5th, 2016

Tough week. Seems it never ends. Live acts are a good way of escaping. Protomartyr at La Vitrola on Thursday evening did just that.

Had originally planned to see DFA 1979 way back before Protomartyr was set to play. But the Torontonian band had been moved from The Corona to The Metropolis. Therefore I lose any desire to see them. V, who had already bought a ticket for DFA 1979, texted me that evening, “C’est crowdé en cibole ici”*. The same evening, No Negative is playing at L’Esco. JP’s there expecting to bump into me. I completely forget. Shouldn’t click attend to all those events on Facebook. Anyhow, I’m alone at La Vitrola but this is not a bad thing.

The first set, Fake Palms from Toronto. Enjoyed the instrumental sections. Somehow this reminds me of an evening spent at l’Esco where I chat with Corridor band members. I mention how the excellent guitar playing changes everything in the band. I get the impression the lead singer with whom I'm conversing is bothered by the comment. I don’t always say the right thing.

As the first set ends, all I am thinking of is does Milk Lines still exist. The ML bass player is playing with Fake Palms tonight. I approach him later. He tells me Milk Lines is on uncertain ground. Sad.

It's Sonic Avenues' turn to play. Before stepping on stage, lead singer Maxime Desharnais stretches his arms and legs as if to prepare for gruesome exercises. I laugh inside. Anyhow Sonic Avenues is good but not my type.

Protomartyr. Final set. On stage. Yay. They’ve been in Montreal twice before I believe. Seen all their performances. The first time, at the Il Motore (now the Ritz), is where I became aware of this Detroit band. First or second set on the bill, they asked the crowd for a place to sleep.

All becomes perfection as my head’s bobbing to the beat of the music. I finish it with 1/2 dram of whisky. I walk back home with a stop by JJ’s. He works long hours but always there to give me a hug. My workday wasn’t great so I needed it.

Hugged and all, I head home. It's about 1:30am (I live a few blocks away from JJ’s), a stranger asks me would I smoke a joint with him. Nope. He then questions me about my calves: “Would the circumference be 16 inches, like those of a ballerina dancer?”. “Could I measure them with my hands?” he adds while showing me his fingers forming a circle. The moment is creepy. Told him I was going to bed and left.

* it’s crowded here, unbearable

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