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When this year’s summer started, Montreal alternative indie-rock band Ribbon Skirt (formerly known as Love Language) was gaining momentum – even as they were going through a bit of an identity crisis. Their setlist gradually shifted, and all the old sparkly indie rock songs were traded out for a newer, darker and more esoteric sound. Soon after, the band changed their name to Ribbon Skirt, a piece of Indigenous clothing and a universal symbol of resilience.
The band calls this new name a visceral one that “demands attention” and aligns more with their values and representation—especially that of Anishinaabe guitarist and lead vocalist Tashiina Buswa. This new era of Ribbon Skirt is cemented by “Cellophane,” a mysterious new single.
The song is backed by a music video that feels more like a stream-of-consciousness short film, dealing with memory and cultural history as Buswa runs through a forest, confronted by weird shadow puppets and fractured memories.
We spoke to Buswa and lead guitarist Billy Riley about the band’s shift into Ribbon Skirt, some of the more abstract sounds and ideas surrounding “Cellophane,” and working with Deerhoof’s Greg Saunier, Preoccupations’ Scott “Monty” Munro, and Marlaena Moore on the upcoming record, due sometime in 2025.
I love the new video, it’s very dark and mysterious, basically an experimental short film. Where did the idea come from?
Tashiina Buswa: The concept revolves around the lyrical theme of running from death and trying to hold onto your culture in any way you can—hence the image of me running through the woods pretty frantically at times. The video director, Sasha, had the brilliant idea to shoot it in black and white, which I think complements the song in a really satisfying way. Sasha also made these amazing puppets of trees and running rabbits jumping through rabbit snares, which is a reference to a line in the song about being on my grandfather’s trapline.
So the track is about a memory you had with your grandfather? What was your relationship with him like?
TB: The thematic content of “Cellophane” explores the desperation of losing my grandfather/Shoomis, who to me represented access to a traditional Indigenous way of life. He was a residential school survivor and a fluent Anishinaabemowin speaker, one of the last ones. As a young child, I spent time on his trapline, out in the bush trapping rabbits, fishing, and hunting with him. I would watch him make bannock every Sunday and help pick blueberries with him and my mom during the summer. Having access to my Shoomis was super essential for me to be able to feel connected to my culture. When he died suddenly when I was 17, I felt a sharp sense of anxiety at the finality of his death. Maybe my desperation to hold onto my grandfather is really just my desperation to hold onto my culture, language, and family. Writing the song was super cathartic as I never fully processed the loss until now. I feel like I’ve been sort of suspended in the time since I was 17 when he passed. I think it also forced me to reckon with my own responsibility to myself. I’m realizing that if I don’t take proactive actions on behalf of myself to connect and dig into my culture, then it just won’t happen. I think that’s a big lesson in adulthood that I’m starting to learn. And I think that’s a lot of what this [upcoming] record is exploring.
As an Indigenous artist, do you find it your duty to make music that has some sort of message as opposed to making art for the sake of art?
TB: I think there’s some pressure to make music with a message or that carries some sort of advocacy, but I’ve learned over the past few years to not let that pressure drive the music. I think Indigenous musicians and BIPOC musicians in general should also be able to make music about their own unique experiences existing in the world as humans, and I think there’s a way to strike a balance between that and making songs that also honor your culture and where you come from! A lot of the other songs on the record are much more personal, so I think we did strike that harmony in this record.
What was the shooting day like? Any stories?
Billy Riley: We filmed it at our friend’s cottage, which is also where we went to write a lot of this record over the last year, so it was comforting to go back to that mindset to film the video. We filmed it all in one day so there was a lot of running around between the beautiful old barn and the woods and river surrounding the cottage. It was a really cold day, so we would film in small chunks and then rush back inside the cottage to warm up by the wood-burning stove. Once we were wrapped up with the filming, we finished the day with fondue!
You recently went through a name change with the band, from Love Language to Ribbon Skirt. Why did this change happen and how has the identity of the band changed?
BR: The name change felt like a natural progression to go along with the change in sound. I’m drawn to artists who aren’t too precious about their work and are constantly evolving. Sometimes you have to draw a line on a project in order to move forward. In terms of any change in identity, I think that the shift happened naturally with the new direction we found ourselves in.
Would you say this more introspective sound will be explored further on the upcoming debut album next year?
BR: Don’t worry, there are still some big fun guitar songs on this record! For me, the record is kinda split between the songs we wrote outside the studio and the songs we wrote once we really committed to writing almost entirely in the studio, which are definitely a little darker. We had a few songs that didn’t make it onto the final record because we felt like they were too frivolous and much more in the old Love Language sound. Although, some of my favourite tracks on the there are some we wrote very early on that I see as transitional songs, having one foot in both the old and new versions of the band.
Choosing the people we worked with on this record was also extremely important to us, and we wanted to work with people who would push us to create the best work possible. Very early on in the process, we knew we wanted to work with Monty [Munro] and Marlaena [Moore] on production for that reason, as we’ve been really inspired by the work they both create and their commitment to pushing themselves. Turns out that it was a really great match for us. Monty is always down to experiment and push the songs into wild directions, and Marlaena was there to reel us back in, making sure we didn’t stray too far and lose the essence of the song.
Working with Greg Saunier for mixing was also an incredible experience that added another layer of experimentation. I’m a huge fan of Deerhoof and tried to go in with no expectations and give him a lot of freedom to do his thing.
I think there are some unexpected choices on this record that I’m really excited to share with everyone!
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