The Field Register
If you ever come to Quebec City, there are two things you have to do: have a bite to eat at Zonorange and check out a show at Rouje. Rouje is the nexus of the city’s indie arts community; it’s one part gallery and one part performing arts stage, and presents daring and inspired works from the oft-splintered worlds of music, theatre, and comedy. It’s pretty much the city’s only haven for the unsigned set. I try to bum there as much as possible to 1) get the feeling that I’m cool and 2) to enjoy one of the typically great shows they have going. You can be dead sure to find me there this Friday when The Field Register comes to town.
Original Maritimers now settled into the Montreal hotbed of emerging music, The Field Register are five musicians who are quite adept at crafting powerhouse tunes which have so much atmosphere in them, they have their own ozone. I’m not quite sure what that means, myself but… well, you get the idea. Hopefully.
I’m truly a sucker for this kind of music: massive sound landscapes which start off in one direction then suddenly make a hard yet flocculent turn into reverb-generous guitars, under which flows an ebbing bassline and perfectly punctuated Ace Tone interventions. Take a song like Ceramic: one could fall into the trap and be turned off by its unprecipitated style, but it’s only when the song wraps up that you realise just how deliberate everything had been planned. As each song collapses under its own emotional structure, there’s a moment of “Oh, I see…” as the path the band wanted you to take becomes clear.
Can’t wait to see them live.
[…] Couple of days ago, I mentioned the upcoming passage of The Field Register to Quebec City’s Rouje this Friday and how anxious I am to see how the band turns out live. Lucky me, they won’t be alone. Accompanying them on the establishment’s stage will be another homegrown wonder: Below The Sea. […]
c’était effectivement un excellent show!
nice seeing you again jeune homme!
j