Alix Fernz’s “Couteau à la gorge” Bleeds New Wave Noir

The Montreal glam-punk drops a twisted new video single that further trademarks "hypnagogic pop."

by Stephan Boissonenault

Photo by Aabid Youssef

If you’ve ever stepped into Montreal’s L’Escogriffe Bar Spectacle, you’ve most likely seen a tattooed, spiky-haired punk slinging pints of beer behind the grimy wood. This is Alexandre Fournier, and outside of this world of dive bar chic, it’s Alix Fernz, an artist making labyrinthian glam-filled post-punk, or what his label, Mothland, loves to call “hypnagogic pop.”

Fernz made his full-length debut last April with Bizou, a memorable batch of claustrophobic yet grooving songs featuring screeching guitars, nocturnal synthesizers, cut-and-paste drum beats, and deep-fried vocals. He is now following up Bizou with his upcoming sophomore full-length, Symphonie publicitaire sous influence (out October 2025), an equally weird and wacko release that dabbles in lo-fi, shocking noise rock, and acidic new wave noir. 

To give us a taste of the new album, he is dropping the frenetic, synth-heavy “Couteau à la gorge,” along with a freaky nightmare of a music video. In the video, Fernz sits like a demented king, smoking a cigarette, as his subhuman doppelganger dances next to a giant kitchen knife. Soon, a female dancer appears behind a veil of fog, smoking a comically large amount of cigarettes attached like a bundle of dynamite. The whole video’s vibe feels like what would happen if Tim Burton decided to direct something like SLC Punk.

We chatted with Alix Fernz to learn a bit more about the mysterious “Anna” character in “Couteau à la gorge,” and some of the inspirations for Symphonie publicitaire sous influence.

The character of Anna sort of feels like she wandered out of a French New Wave film and into a Montreal dive bar. Who is she to you, and how did she come to life in the song?

I basically started to write lyrics about this main character, and everything she does is trying to make her life feel like a Gaspar Noé movie. And then I wanted to find a name for that girl that could rhyme with what I already wrote, and “Anna” was the only one I could find. It just so happens that my sister’s name is Anna, so I started writing about the character by thinking about what my sister might have in common with her. It’s basically a romanticized version of what I think my sister would be like in an ‘80s French movie.

Your sister Annabelle Fournier co-directed the music video, too. It gave me Beetlejuice vibes with the set design. What was that experience like?

Working with my sister is always super nice and fun; she has immense talent, and she is super professional. With the help of her best friend, Justine [Lacoste], they created a more than incredible music video which, in my opinion, greatly represents my aesthetic. The day before the shoot, I had no idea what to expect, and I’m more than satisfied with the result. They simply get me and my sound.

The video is a wild ride—punk, surreal, theatrical. What did you want it to feel like for the viewer watching it for the first time?

Probably the same way I felt when I first watched it. I was like “Holy shit, that’s sick.”

You’ve been very much part of the nightlife scene as a bartender. Your debut album, Bizou, touched on that, but is Symphonie publicitaire sous influence inspired by those times as well? 

I feel that the new album is a different angle on those events. Being a bartender is basically what I do every week, so it’s kinda hard for me to write about anything other than that. I think for me, what I wrote is not necessarily important in my creative process of making songs, it’s more of a necessary evil where I just write what comes to my mind without trying to make a point or even make sense at all. 

Do you have any crazy bar stories, and have any made it into your songs?

There’s one time where this kid with a ski mask just ran in front of the bar and started bear spraying the bouncers and the crowd and took off for absolutely no reason. I remember being inside and watching the bouncers in full panic mode, trying to put water in their eyes. And yeah, it made it to one of the songs from the album. 

There’s a tension in your work—between glamour and grime, artifice and authenticity. How does that duality play into your larger artistic vision?

For me, it’s all about contrasts, both in my music and in my stage persona. I’m very inspired by contrasts in visual and cinematic art. I find we’re more able to touch people when different emotions, both intense and gentle, are mixed together in the same concept.

What’s the last thing you saw, read, or heard that made you feel something intense?

Ozzy’s death.

You made the demos in your living room, but how did these songs come together once your band started adding their parts?

There are no demos. The songs you hear on the album are always the first draft. When we go to the studio, the boys play drums and bass live on top of the “demos.” So all the synths, guitars and vocals are the same as the beginning when I first recorded them.