Australian Art Orchestra and Nicole Lizée, Karappo Okesutura Vol. III

In the eighties, my brother and I discovered hip-hop and became fascinated by scratching, the art of moving vinyl records on turntables to produce sounds. My parents—bless them—gave us an old record player, and we proceeded to ruin several LPs in our futile efforts to learn the craft. I was reminded of this endeavour while listening to the latest recording from Montreal composer Nicole Lizée, produced in collaboration with Melbourne’s Australian Art Orchestra. Lizée’s signatures include the use of turntables and other unconventional instruments, maximalist arrangements and lurching rhythms that evoke skipping CDs and other auditory glitches. On Karappo Okesutura Vol. III, these techniques are applied to a series of Gen X-era pop hits.

Opener “Thunderphonics” lays the album’s conceptual cards on the table with its nod to Canadian composer John Oswald’s copyright-flouting plunderphonic compositions, in which Oswald collaged diverse types of music. The track interpolates AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck,” with Australian Art Orchestra vocalist Georgie Darvidis singing the rock anthem’s uncharacteristically melancholy line, “and I knew there was no help, no help from you,” in an increasingly unsteady loop as the orchestra swirls behind her. In later tracks, songs from Alanis Morissette, INXS and the Grease soundtrack are given similar treatment, the familiar hooks looping, fragmenting and falling out of sync. Lizée then hits the deep CanCon, tackling eighties hits from Corey Hart, Loverboy and Platinum Blonde. Karappo Okesutura Vol. III’s delirious deconstruction of nostalgic pop will have you singing along, then suddenly finding yourself in a Lynchian fever dream when the recognizable bops begin to unravel.

The Sun Through a Telescope, Warm, Grey Day

The Sun Through a Telescope (TSTAT) is not a typical doom-metal project by a long shot. The solo, studio-only project of prolific Ottawa musician Leigh Newton, TSTAT has been quietly releasing loud music for over ten years. On Newton’s old-school Blogspot, he writes about favourite new music as varied as extreme metal, industrial music, The Cure’s latest album and millennial-rock acts like The War on Drugs and The National. This diversity of influences is clear on TSTAT’s new album Warm, Grey Day, which sets itself apart from its doom-metal contemporaries with its variability and melodic moments. 

Perhaps the closest comparison would be the Melvins—also name-checked by Newton as a perennial favourite—with their mix of metal and experimental sounds. But TSTAT dares to go both more metal and more pop. The album’s riffs are righteously heavy, and the unexpected elements, like the burbling organ on “Pathways I” that evokes early Pink Floyd, ensure that the challenging-to-satisfying ratio is just about perfect. While the vocals occasionally veer into mall-punk whine country, such as on “Fantastic Waste,” the detour never lasts long before another quick left turn on Warm, Grey Day’s dependably unpredictable trip.

Pecora Pecora, Aquaplanète

If vintage science fiction is a comfort for you, as it very much is for me, you may find yourself blissfully melting into the soundscapes created by Montreal atmospheric pop duo Pecora Pecora. On their gentle new record Aquaplanète, analog synths and drum machines evoke the sci-fi soundtracks of the seventies. Although the album has its own narrative—which, according to the description on Bandcamp, involves astronaut sheep landing on a planet with two-headed starfish—the wordless music could equally serve as the soundtrack to your own travels within inner space. Slower, meandering tracks like “Une mer sans fond sans fin” and “Une heure, une minute, une seconde” alternate with chill mid-tempo pop numbers like “Le vaisseau lainaire,” and catchy standout track “Eroticosmique” to create a mood-forward music journey.

The languorousness of the album is fitting from a duo adamant about taking their time. Aquaplanète is Pecora Pecora’s first album in a decade, and they aren’t bothering to play live shows for the release. The duo’s seeming lack of concern with the vagaries of popularity and status makes this album stand out as music created for its own sake, and it is all the more enjoyable for it. Somewhere between space-pop duo Air in their heyday and a less sinister John Carpenter, Aquaplanète is perfect for taking your mind off the world’s troubles and elevating it into the cosmos.

Cedric Noel, guides

Cedric Noel is one of the most versatile and unpredictable songwriters in the Montreal scene, as likely to release an indie-pop album (Hang Time, 2021) as a showcase of ambient synth instrumentals (Patterning, 2020). His latest, guides, is a mellow collection of mostly instrumental pieces, with his soulful voice appearing on only a few tracks. The music has a handmade feel to it—the title track features a lo-fi rhythm pushed forward by hand percussion, while “beaut” begins in a false start, as if to underline a casual, spontaneous approach. 

Noel explains on Bandcamp that most of the songs were “full or semi-improvisations” recorded over two days, then tweaked over the following weeks, with the album released in the same month. But far from feeling tossed-off, the songs have a thoughtful quality and beautiful playing. 

Noel notes that the album came about from being able to play the guitar comfortably again after recovering from an injury, and you can feel the joy in this rediscovery. Across its eight short tracks, guides has a lot of musical diversity—“before char arrives” detours into jazz with a saxophone and free-form drums, while “friend” and “ions” feature the accordion used in an unusually, and beautifully, minimalistic way. The sketch-like quality of the album leaves the listener hopeful for more ambitious work from this unique songwriter with the hallmarks of a true artist.