Delachute Paints the Town Grey

The sullen indie singer takes us on a journey around Montreal’s best places to cry ahead of Western Canadian tour. 

by Aurora Zboch

Through the cat eye slits in a blank face mask, Delachute stares across Montreal’s Lachine Canal. The water and power lines border the Saint-Henri neighbourhood. This same canal is also the force that has enabled the rising songwriter to move on from heartache and loneliness.

“It ain’t a beautiful little river, but there’s water and a bit of wildlife, which calms me down. There’s also important moments of my life that happened by the canal, just because it’s where I used to hang out all the time,” Delachute tells RANGE.  

The indie and industrial soundscape reflected in Delachute’s music can be seen as a greyscale version of what can otherwise be a fun neighbourhood to explore. As Delachute describes, “There’s a lot of abandoned factories and abandoned fields that aren’t condos yet. I find these places really inspiring. There’s also this weird little hill near the highway where you find yourself alone surrounded by thousands of cars going in all directions trying to win the race of life.

“From there, you have a great view of the city of Montréal,” he continues. “You also see luxury condos surrounded by homeless encampments. It’s a part of the city where gentrification is insane and it makes me sad.”

As elusive as he might look, Delachute is an open book with a blank mask as a cover. He tells his story in the form of  dreary weather reports, love songs, and prison diaries — more on that in a bit.

The melancholic Montreal artist lets his new album, Canal, paint the picture: cloudy skies, rapidly flowing water, and a soft sonic palate sailing on an outpour of darkness, conjuring memories of a cold, monochrome landscape. Much of the new record was written here, in solitude. But in order to cure the loneliness, Delachute started collaborating frequently with other musicians and creative people who he can also call friends. He got help from Rolie “Olivier Béliveau” Olie as a producer/mixer and drummer; Mark Lawson as producer/mixer; Maxime Fortin on production; JP Villemure as the mastering engineer; and from Orhan Aydin for visuals. 

The album also combines with Delachute’s debut eponymous EP, becoming a Side B. The stories from the 2021 record come from when he worked at a prison. The takeaway emotion was resilience, which in retrospect carries him through the next period. He strips away the electric bass and percussion to make the themes of violence and inner pain sound not so scary, and even gentle like a lullabye. 

 

 

Many songs were written while Delachute was still working in the judicial system. Though ending that work a year and half ago, he remains fascinated by what his friends do back there. “It’s such complex work in such an imperfect system. It’s just the nature of the work. Feeling like the bearer of bad news all the time is not easy,” he says.  

Delachute’s eerie voice is his main identifier. The studio trickery is nothing more than layering vocal tracks, with absolutely no effects. “The truth is,” he explains, “I’m singing through a cheap mic equivalent to an SM58.” 

“I tend to naturally connect to the lyrics, but I’ll try to push the feeling and dissociate a bit to actually enjoy the moment,” he says. “Repeating a line five or six times when recording vocals makes me feel more connected with the lyrics… Looking back at some lyrics, I can see how that job made me feel.”

It’s not that it was so hard on him personally, but he says the despair and hopelessness is just how you end up feeling when you talk to victims of crime who have been through hell on a daily basis and when you read criminal reports detailing the most hideous crimes. 

“I don’t usually work with the mask, but it’s always there in the studio as a reminder that I can do whatever the hell I want.” 

Delachute will perform at The Waldorf in Vancouver on Friday, Nov. 29 and Modern Love in Calgary on Saturday, Nov. 30 | TICKETS