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Nick Guerin
but singing a song called “J’Suis Coma-
tose” is a statement nonetheless.
Culture aside, there are practical rea-
sons local festivals are able to flourish
in Quebec. Canada’s music scene is
buoyed by governmental aid in the
form of FACTOR and municipal and
provincial grants. That means more
musicians are able to dedicate them-
selves to their craft, which means more
local (and more affordable) bands for
festivals to book. While these bands
tend to get shifted to the bottom of ‘77,
Heavy, and Rockfest’s promo posters,
they’re still there. The more locally-ori-
ented Pouzza gives them more promi-
nence: this year, bands like L/\V/\L and
Blind Witness
Bats in the Belfry
will find them-
selves opening
for headliners
Against Me! and
Andrew W.K.
“Competi-
tively, we have
an advantage,”
says Collyer. “If
you’re allowed
to work on your
music but don’t
have a nine-to-
five and don’t
have to worry
about paying
your mortgage,
you’re in a better
situation in terms
of learning to play your guitar and write
better music.”
While the abundance of festivals
might be great for fans, it does have
drawbacks for the promoters themselves.
“It’s definitely tough,” says Farkas.
“There are only so many headliners
and it’s tricky every year trying to fig-
ure out what to do. It makes it more
difficult having more festivals. Pouzza,
they do one or two bigger acts; they
don’t really go for the massive, massive
headliners.”
It’s not an entirely rosy financial
picture for the festivals, either. In June
2018, days after Rockfest wrapped
up, organizers filed for insolvency
protection and claimed the festival is
$5 million in debt. For his festival this
year, Martel booked mainly local acts
like The Sainte Catherines, claiming he
wanted to get back to his roots.
Infrastructure is important, but it’s
not unique to metal and punk - grants
are available to pop, hip-hop, and
every other genre under the sun. So,
the question remains: what is it about
Quebec that the local punk and metal
scenes can stay so strong?
To hear the musicians and behind-the-
scenes people tell it, it’s that there’s just
a convergence of values between punk,
metal, and Quebec culture. The reason
punk and metal thrive in Quebec is the
same reason a bunch of the bleary-
eyed faithful will spend three days
cavorting in mud in Montebello. The
music, for all the posturing, isn’t nihilis-
tic; it’s hedonistic, and that’s an attitude
Quebecers, with their famed joie de
vivre, can get behind.
“There’s an innate desire in this
populace to enjoy their life,” says Col-
lyer. “Productivity isn’t such a big deal.
The rat race or whatever you want to
call it is really bad. I don’t want you to
think everyone’s lazy over here, but
there’s really more of a focus on family.
In Toronto, Walmart’s open 24 hours a
day; here it’s closed at 5 p.m.”
In other words, Quebecers take
their fun where they can get it, and if that
means slugging it out in the pit at Heavy
or packing up a tent and setting up shop
in somebody’s backyard with a case of
beer at Rockfest, so be it. The music is a
part of it – a part with tons of history in
the province – but really, in a province
that is inherently positioned and per-
ceived as an outsider in its own country,
it’s always nice to feel like you belong.
“Metal was always healthy, but here
in Quebec, people were always more
loyal,” says Langevin. “They have an alle-
giance to metal more than other places.”
Adam Kovac is a freelance journalist
based out of Montreal.
C A N A D I A N M U S I C I A N 41