Neither the unusually high temperatures nor wildfire smoke seemed to do much to deter Edmonton’s music lovers from showing up in droves to soak in a heady mix of punk, metal, dark-wave and experimental music from every corner of Canada and the U.S. RANGE were lucky enough to be on the ground at Purple City, and festival organizers Raquel “Rocky” Mann, Ryan Rathjen, Andrea Taylor and Leah Brochu kindly facilitated some meet-and-greets with the festival’s runaway highlight acts!

Gustaf

Gustaf (Photo: Shannon Johnston)

The origin of Gustaf mirrors what is so intoxicating about being young and creative in New York City. The members of the art punk band congregated in the city from all over the Eastern Seaboard, finding each other through colleges, art, DIY bands, and casual invitations to drive across the country on slapdash tours. That hard-earned collectivism shows immediately when you speak to them – they talk over each other, cracking inside jokes and breaking out into fits of rowdy laughter.

Gustaf (Photo: Shannon Johnston)

They’re the picture of people who have been through miles and miles of cramped quarters and open road together, plying a united goal. Their first show in Bushwick in 2018 started solidifying their sound early on. Endlessly charismatic singer Lydia Gammill repeatedly describes it as a “Caprese salad,” made with ingredients that are great on their own, but mix together into something more. The singularity of Gustaf, however, suggests something much more than just predetermined quality. Everything that shouldn’t work – flute, processed vocals, DIY instruments – does, meshing into a frenetic and perfectly curated whole. Guitarist Vram Kherlopian’s razor-sharp guitar licks and Tara Thiessen’s hectic vox and percussion are the foundation, underpinned by the roiling, airtight rhythm section of drummer Tine Hill and bassist Melissa Lucciola. And Gammill’s shock of blonde hair and paranoiac mantras are at the centre of it all. This humble music fan is incredibly excited to see where Gustaf goes next. To use a turn of phrase as banal as a Caprese salad, the sky’s the limit for these unhinged art punkers.

Wolf Eyes

Wolf Eyes (Photo: Eric Kozakiewicz)

By all accounts, Michigan is where punk was born, with early spitfires Death and the Stooges laying down the blueprint that many still try to emulate. The state’s canon of punk acts has continued since then, with outfits like Protomartyr most recently carrying that Promethean torch. It’s a small shame, then, that Michigan’s ugliest, most mangled children, Ann Arbor’s Wolf Eyes, seldom get the nod they deserve within that hallowed history.

Wolf Eyes (Photo: Eric Kozakiewicz)

Buying tickets to see the noise collective is always a gamble as to what iteration of Wolf Eyes’ sound you will get to take in. You might see a mess of prepared guitar, an infinite tangle of mutated tape loops, or the band simply smashing a mic’d up refrigerator on stage with claw hammers. By these towering standards, the band were travelling light at Purple City, with a few modular synths, samplers and some woodwinds at their hands. As expected, the minimalist set-up did little to curb the havoc that was put on display. Stoic and largely still, Nate Young and John Olson brought their squealing catharsis to life while presiding over a crowd of hungry noiseniks, merging the best aspects of no wave, avant-garde and free form into one of the best and loudest moments at Purple City.

Man Meat

Man Meat (Photo: Shannon Johnston)

The Canadian prairies have long since been a breeding ground for the country’s most exciting, forward-looking and sordid art. Whether it’s the isolation or the Dust Bowl-like atmosphere that still hangs over those desolate flatlands, the best of the best of Canada’s literary, theatre and musical talents all stem from the steppe. Saskatoon’s post-hardcore collective Man Meat fill that promise with ease. The group’s formation was kismet in its own right. Half-formed from a Black Flag cover show by leader and principal songwriter Nicole Sanderson, Man Meat assembled itself from the scene’s videographer who was just learning to play the drums (Chelsea Martin) and a friend who played with a bunch of their peers, recently having been sent some demos (Tony Rodway).

Man Meat (Photo: Shannon Johnston)

These disparate, unlikely beginnings are hardly felt in the hermetic and assured sound that Man Meat deploy both in the studio and on stage. The agile and livid songs that make up You Deserve Better, their newest LP, course on nervy, down-tuned guitar lines and coiled, agitated vocals that not too long ago would have sat perfectly on the roster of noise labels like Amphetamine Reptile. Most importantly, there’s a ton of heart beating under these dark, menacing tunes that tackle the human condition in a palpable and compassionate way. There’s pride in their voices as Man Meat discuss the thriving scene of young people diving headfirst into punk music in their hometown. And with the band at the lead of that sinister charge with endless talent and chops, it’s safe to say Western Canada’s noisy fields are in good hands.

lushclot

lushclot (Photo: Shannon Johnston)

Edmonton’s own Tom Kerr spent a long time waiting for the right band to come along. One of the core members of the town’s legacy hardcore act, the Wolfnote, he was in a half-dormant state before and during the pandemic, writing and polishing songs, until a right moment to strike came along. Now with the addition of local punk veterans R.H. on bass and Nathan Marshall on drums, as well as Midnight Peg’s Rocky Mann on vox, lushclot were finally ready to let loose on the city.

lushclot (Photo: Shannon Johnston)

The band are yet to release a full-length or even a proper single, but if their early performances are of any indication, there will be some incredible things to come here. Their live shows untangle patiently, with math rock precision, then suddenly burst open in a fit of post-hardcore fury before dialing it back, rinse and repeat, seemingly growing louder and more frenetic as they rattle along. And Rocky Mann’s inscrutable, literary lyrics paint dark comedic glimpses of people utterly lost, like Dylan writing from a shooting gallery. You can feel release in the room, as lushclot smile giddily throughout, happy to be here, to play, to finally exhale with full force. I don’t know if this incendiary end result is what Tom Kerr had in mind during all those years of gestation, but one thing is for sure – to the city’s listening public, it was well worth the wait, and Edmonton’s punk scene is all the better for it.

The Spoon Benders

The Spoon Benders (Photo: Shannon Johnston)

One could say prog was never cool, no matter how hard Robert Fripp tried, but goddammit if Portland psych rockers The Spoon Benders don’t give it an earnest and exhilarating go anyway. The band’s latest, How Things Repeat, feels like a transition record in the grandest way. The usual prog and psych affectations are still here, but something bigger is brewing underneath these little juggernauts. Elements of noise, metal and experimental are forming here, suggesting that the band are building a springboard into newer and even more electrifying territories.

The Spoon Benders (Photo: Shannon Johnston)

The Spoon Benders also represent a stronghold of DIY praxes. While hitching to a label isn’t something that the band discount altogether, they have been able to make it work on their own. Understandably, they relish that hard-won freedom and are wary of relinquishing the reins to the larger industry. Laughing, the band discuss driving for six weeks straight because they couldn’t find a hotel they could afford, as well as Reba, their touring van with a kill switch that they still can’t find and a roll cage to hold instruments and prevent crushing deaths. . Catch the Spoon Benders on their tour with Frankie and the Witch Fingers before they head back into the studio to record their next implosion of “sudden astrological psychosis.”

BÖNDBREAKR

BÖNDBREAKR (Photo: Eric Kozakiewicz)

Punk-metal collective BÖNDBREAKR waste no time crashing and screeching their way into the studded and manic timeline of Texan punk, joining the likes of Meat Joy, the Dicks, Scratch Acid, Butthole Surfers and Pussy Gillette as the latest and arguably best in the state’s revered fringe citizenry. The band were the talk of the town at Purple City, unleashing a brainsick performance at the Y AfterHours full of anarchic abandon. Frontwoman G. let loose her infinitely versatile vocals, by turns operatic, throaty or all-out-screamo, and the music raised by the band was equally multi-faceted, shifting effortlessly between black metal, hardcore and doomgaze.

BÖNDBREAKR (Photo: Eric Kozakiewicz)

Politics and unrest loom large over BÖNDBREAKR. With Austin, the band’s hometown, a relative blue dot in a red sea, they have no choice. But Texas is Texas is Texas, and the band, just as most creative forces of the state, are always focused on “keeping the conservative forces at bay.” In the coming year, BÖNDBREAKR are looking to take their steamrolling act to Europe, and start shopping around for a label that can ably back their sound. The band also have a few splits coming out, including one with a fellow Austin band, sludgecore act Throat Piss. All the luck and well wishes to this fantastic outfit of irascible and humble trailblazers as they continue burning their path across the Western Hemisphere and beyond.