Line-Up Marries Hip-Hop, Electronica, Indie
Check out photos of the concert by Julia Jones here.
Don’t be misled by their oft-used tag “hip-hop collective,” because Nomadic Massive’s range more than exceeds the status quo of hip-hop today. The band draws from soul, blues, latin, jazz and African rhythms to compose politically charged music more alive and engaging than any laptop artist could ever hope to be.
The music veterans (above, left) will get the show started at Loyola while the sun is still up, so make sure you get to the stage early. Their multi-lingual rapping, perfect harmonies and rock-solid band will get your ass shaking and keep your head happy.
Introducing a more robotic element to the party, however, one-time Concordia student Lunice will be cutting, mixing and MIDI-ing it up after Nomadic’s set, filling your ears with clapper hits and EQ
tweaking. If you love bass, you’re in luck.
Don’t sweat it, though—Lunice is no dubstep zombie. He keeps things spacey with a sound that pairs revivalist hip-hop stylings with contemporary electronica elements. As the lone DJ in a lineup of bands, Lunice will have his work cut out for him onstage. He’ll be starting as the sun disappears, with a mix that just might just get this party bumpin’.
Doubling up on their name from Mother to Mother Mother because of legal issues with another band, these West Coast indie-poppers (above, right) have also seen their audiences multiply since their birth in 2007. They’re bringing their signature three-part harmonies to ever-growing crowds, and are the only band on this bill that haven’t called Montreal home.
Although some stuff on their latest record strays dangerously close to adult-contempo, it remains as catchy as ever.
While on past records a dark gritty occasionally bubbled under the surface, their newer songs find that depth either non-existent or played out. Still, their super-tight vocal delivery and quirky tunes should make for quite a show.
Of all the bands that draw stylistically from the ‘80s, Stars are one of the few to do it with such poise. They’ve consistently walked that line between originality and homage, an act impressively free of repetition and contrivance (for that, see singer Amy Millan’s collective-mates in Broken Social Scene) that proves age is no issue here.
Every song is a mini-romance, with vocal duties split between Torquil Campbell and Millan. And while their midnight synth-pop’s glittery exterior might cause some to look away, it’s a sound that has comfortably nestled into a niche that’s both accessible and pretty engaging. They might even throw roses into the crowd—it’s been known to happen.
This article originally appeared in Volume 32, Issue 03, published September 13, 2011.