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Mu's Brittney Rand (left) and Francesca Belcourt. Photo by Ian Lanterman.
Mu’s Brittney Rand (left) and Francesca Belcourt. Photo by Ian Lanterman.

Francesca Belcourt and Brittney Rand are the two women behind Mu, Vancouver’s dream pop chroniclers of youth. The duo has been gracing the city’s electronic scene with dreamy tunes for nearly three years. Their debut album, simply called Mu, explores the universal themes of growth and confusion that characterize the young adult experience. Their fresh new single, “Debauchery,” meanwhile, “addresses all that is depraved, magical, and tempestuous about the ‘in-between’ years and coming of age in an era obsessed with itself.” In anticipation of Mu’s new album, II, which will be released on Feburary 12, SAD Mag’s Meredyth Cole spoke with Belcourt and Rand about their music, their high school selves, and how emulating Drake can (sometimes) lead to success.

**Psst! Stay tuned (pun very much intended) for a special musical surprise at the end of this interview.**

SAD Mag: Tell me what you were like in high school. Did you and Brittney know each other?

Francesca Belcourt: In high school I acted pretty similarly to how I do now but in the body and mind of a hormonal teen. I found any chance I could to be making and playing music rather than doing any normal work, jumping onto any stage there was and was pretty blessed to be encouraged to do so by my peers. If creativity was not required in a class, I would generally be doing things like biking through the hallways in a liberated protest. (Generally speaking my teachers and classmates were pretty chill but I was still not a fan of authority or structure). Brittney and I didn’t know each other in school as she lived across the country. I think we would have gotten along though, she was a punk! Still is.

SM: Mu’s work seems to be rooted in the mood of adolescence and young adulthood. What is it about these ages that is so inspiring for you?

Brittney Rand: More than being rooted in adolescence and youth, I think it’s rooted in dissonance. The themes we often work within are rooted in the fragility that comes with hopefulness, and the complexity of freedom and change—which are both, of course, symptoms of youth and adolescence. We’re navigating and exploring the darkness of our own experiences, because change and growth can be very confusing. On the other hand, “learning adulthood” can be a very inspiring and enriching experience that provides us with the skills we require to find our independence and resilience. Of course, learning this almost always comes at the cost of some despair. It’s a kind of dance that I find to be mysterious and interesting to document creatively.

SM: Pop music has always been a genre of music aimed at adolescents. What did you listen to when you were in high school? Did these tastes shape your sound now?

BR: I grew up obsessed with pop culture, but so isolated! I grew up in a rural highway town in northern Ontario, with limited access to TV, etc. At that time, stations like The Box and MTV could still be listened to, but not viewed, on satellite—unless you paid for the channel. We found out that you could tape down the “cancel” button on the remote and get around that…so we’d tape music videos to VHS any chance we got.  It was really exciting to feel like we were being invited into what the rest of the world was doing.

I was into everything I saw in music videos—rap, pop, soul, grunge, folk, rock, R&B. But, when I was a teenager I was heavily influenced—and shaped by—my love for punk music. I think I’ve always been in love with pop music, but at some point or another pop music always reaches a crux for me; it either speaks or doesn’t speak to me. I find it fun to take something very poppy and nostalgic, and stretch it out to see how far it can go away from its expected direction before it’s nearly not pop. I like borrowing from the mainstream, almost mocking it, and then embracing it and playing with it. It’s kind of nice that we’re in a new pop landscape [and] that we can have both our exploration and depth, but also our fun.

SM: What advice would you give to young musicians trying to break into the scene in Vancouver?

FB: I moved to Van when I was 18 with my high school sweetheart. I had no idea where to go, I just knew I wanted to play music and that I couldn’t do that on Cortes Island or in Campbell River. So I played anything, anywhere, with anyone. Folk concerts, hip hop shows, I sang with electronic producers. Experiencing as much as I could in every scene I discovered lead me to meet Brittney at the Waldorf Hotel right at the time I was starting to really know my own music. It’s a small city, it takes a bit of time, but my advice would be to run ‘round à la Drizzy. If it feels wrong where you are turn around and try a new way.

As SAD Mag puts together the finishing touches on our upcoming High School issue, who better to make a custom mixtape for our readers than Mu. Featuring an exclusive cover of “Running up that hill,” this 12-song mix is a perfect evocation of those high school nights that seem to last forever, and the youthful moments that feel so significant. School dances, make out sessions, and joyrides: the things that are silly and so profound at 16, times that take on the quality of an anthem in our memories. Enjoy.

1) Mu – Running Up That Hill (Kate Bush Cover)
2) Pumarosa – Priestess
3) Suicide – Dream Baby Dream
4) Majical Cloudz – Downtown
5) Okay Kaya – Damn, Gravity
6) Brian Eno – Deep Blue Day
7) Cindy Lee – Prayer of Baphomet
8) Cocteau Twins – Pearly Dewdrops’ Drops
9) Jenny Hval – Why This?
10) Lydia Ainsworth – Malachite
11) Miley Cyrus – Lighter
12) The Cranberries – Dreams

Look out for II, available starting February 12, 2016. For more about Mu, check out their website, SoundCloud, or Twitter.


On opening night of the Accordion Noir Festival, I sat in an airless room on the top level of the Western Front, an artist-run centre just off Main Street. The wood paneling and stuffiness felt fitting for an evening of bellows-driven music—everything about the space seemed to call back to a time before air conditioning and electric guitar. My fellow audience members were a smattering of what could loosely be called East Vancouver types: affable-looking men and women who dressed for the space in breathable layers, and who had the presence of mind to bring cash for the improvised bar. I felt like a rube, I probably looked like one, and I was very quickly losing the appetite for whimsy that had brought me to an accordion festival on a Thursday night.

accordion logo

Thankfully, for whatever else they may be, accordionists are a punctual bunch. Shortly after the listed start time, a fedoraed emcee came out, said a few words, and badabing-badaboom—we were in business. The first performance was a “spoken word opera” devised by a band of local upstarters: Elysse Cheadle, Elliot Vaughan, Aryo Khakpour, and Jonathan Kim. According to the program, the opera was “an examination of the weightlessness of dreaming, and the gravity of waking,” which sounds like it could be right. They made generous use of experimental lighting cues and sound effects—I can still hear the slurping noises that accompanied a particular birth scene. At this point, my worst fears seemed like they were coming true: this evening was going to be weird.


Fortunately, next came a palate cleanser in the form of Steve Normandin, a traditionalist. He is described as a master of traditional French chansons, and his background boasts credits with the Quebec Symphony Orchestra and the renowned playwright Robert LePage. The word “accordion” automatically calls to mind amiable, sturdy-looking Europeans; on this, Normandin absolutely delivers. After warming us up with a few songs, he led the audience Pied Piper-style to the sidewalk, where we did our best collective impression of a Parisian street corner. At this point, the evening’s early swelter had mellowed, and the sky had turned a lovely, bruise-y purple. The coupled among us felt compelled to dance – everyone else swayed by themselves – and my terrible mood began to crack. The combination of the night and the accordion felt a little bit perfect—Normandin could perform exclusively in East Van alleyways from now on, and he would probably do quite well for himself.

accordion fest

The final performer was Angélica Negrón, a Brooklyn-based musician and composer, whose accordion was rounded out by the xylosynth percussion of Shayna Dunkelman. Negrón is all bangs and glasses, the kind of person who seems like she can make any hobby seem cool simply via its proximity to her. One wonders if she chose a deliberately old-fashioned instrument simply to test the limits of her powers. In any case, both performers were very, very good. The blend of electronica and accordion felt – for lack of a better word – floaty, and just a touch menacing. The songs themselves spanned far-reaching, upbeat topics such as “The Disappearance of a Young Girl” and “A Happy Song About Death.” These were perfect for sitting alone in a public space and contemplating the future. Despite my early doubts, I deemed the alone-at-an-accordion-festival experiment a success.


If you love the idea of an accordion festival, I’d say you should go. If it sounds stupid and terrible, go anyways. Next year will mark the 9th year of Accordion Noir Fest in Vancouver; whatever your ultimate thoughts, I can predict that it will most definitely be An Experience.


A theme of breaking, splitting, and rebuilding ran through Wednesday’s QSONG (Queer Songwriters of a New Generation) showcase at the Roundhouse Performance Centre in Yaletown. It was a gloomy and drizzly summer night, but the young songwriters performing that evening created a warm, intimate atmosphere. Constructing just this type of space is the goal of the QSONG workshop, now in its second year. Musicians and mentors Sarah Wheeler and Ellen Marple met with Queer and allied Vancouver youth every Friday for a nine week period, helping them to expand their musical skill set and gain confidence in the nerve-wracking art of sharing deeply personal compositions on stage. The result was Wednesday’s showcase of original work, comprised of collaborative pieces and solo songs. It was the collaborative numbers that really shone; the energy and camaraderie of the group was palatable. In contrast, breakups and destructive love were at the core of much of the solo music, experiences which so often drive people to make music. QSONG alumni Gaby Lamoureaux provided one of the best performances: singing and playing the ukulele, the 25-year-old performed a song about moving on from a past relationship, but peppered the sadness with enough upbeat moments to keep the audience feeling hopeful.

When the lights came up at end of the evening the audience wasn’t quite ready to leave. Most people milled around the foyer, taking in the art on display, before bursting the bubble and venturing back into the world. The Roundhouse Performance Centre provided an attractive and supportive space for the musicians to showcase their work. Judging by the poise of all the young performers, it won’t be the last time they enjoy such an opportunity.


Follow the Queer Arts Fes­ti­val on Twit­ter or visit the fes­ti­val web­site for updates about future events.


When I first read the summary of Cosmophony, a collaboration between the Queer Arts Festival and the Powell Street Festival, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. After all, how is an auditory representation of space manifested? How does one describe space and the cosmos through music, much less through music played only on a piano by a single artist? Would it be an epic space theme a la Star Wars‘ opening credits? Or an ethereal and ominous soundtrack that captures the vast darkness that is our universe?


Earth, photo by NASA
Earth, photo by NASA


It turns out, it was much more than that. Pianist Rachel Kiyo Iwaasa commissioned 11 Canadian composers to create this beautiful musical journey through our solar system. Each composer focused on a different planet or space entity. The result was that each planet sparked in its audience a different affect and atmosphere. However, through Iwaasa’s beautiful and skillful musicianship, each composition was tied to the next in a cohesive performance that felt perfectly natural. Iwaasa truly managed to do justice to each and every piece she played, holding the audience captivated for the full hour-long performance.

The performance took place in Firehall Arts Centre, a space with an intimate and communal atmosphere. The set was simple: Iwaasa at her piano, with a screen playing images of each planet as the backdrop. The audience’s full focus could be on the music being performed, with pieces by composers including Rodney Sharman, Marci Rabe, Alexander Pechenyuk, Jocelyn Morlock, Chris Kovarik, Jeffrey Ryan, Stefan Udell, and Jennifer Butler. The show opens with Denis Gougeon’s passionate Piano-Soleil. From the sun, we are taken through the planets, over epic Mercury and gentle Venus, over the Asteroid Belt described by Jordan Nobles’ Fragments, and over to Gliese 581c, a faraway planet that is one of the human race’s only shreds of hope for relocation once we burn through all of our own natural resources—a theme which composer Emily Doolittle depicts with great passion. The performance is not just a piano concert; it is a social commentary on the ways in which we abuse our own planet, as well as an exploration of not only the vast cosmos itself, but of the human race’s role in the solar system.


Mercury, photo by NASA
Mercury, photo by NASA


Through this journey, Cosmophony manages to encapsulate multiple themes: human awe at the vastness of space, the continued exploration of space, the mysteries of the cosmos, and the environmental havoc that we have wreaked upon our own planet. Whether you are a space buff, a classical music fan, a lover of community art, or a combination of the three, Iwaasa’s stellar performance and the beautiful collaboration of talent managed to create something that will speak to everyone.


Cosmophony was put together by the Queer Arts Festival and the Powell Street Festival. You can find Rachel Kiyo Iwaasa’s website here.

Nancy Lee and Kiran Bhumber are the creative brains behind Pendula, an interactive art installation that uses the movement of swings to create music and projections, which premiered at Vancouver’s 2015 Jazz Festival. Nancy, the swing set builder, is a VJ, filmmaker and new media artist. Kiran, the music programmer, is a composer and performer whose artistic interests lay at the intersection of technology and music.  Below, Sad Mag’s Shannon Tien talks to the duo about agency in art, teamwork, and the community value of swing sets.

Still from Pendula by Nancy Lee and Kiran Bhumber


Shannon Tien: Tell me about Pendula.


Nancy Lee: Pendula is a multimedia, audio-visual, interactive installation. We use both hardware and software to take the swinging motion and turn them into audio or visual parameters, which means their effects that can be seen and heard during our installation. Using swing sets.


ST: How did this idea come together? What was the inspiration behind it?


NL: I started building outdoor swing sets as a public interactive installation piece. And then I did an event where I installed 8 swing sets indoors during an electronic music night that I organized. And there I met Kiran for the first time–Kiran was there swinging on the swings. And at that time she thought, “Hey, maybe we could make this swing into an interactive piece.” I’d also had projections installed. At that time it wasn’t an interactive piece, I just had projections over the swing area.


And then we later met again at New Forms festival working as production assistant volunteers. And that’s when we had time to sit down and talk about the project and our vision for it. The swing set I had at the event wasn’t my full vision that I had for it in my mind. I wanted the projections to reflect the social interactions that happened within the swinging area.


Kiran Bhumber: Having seen the swings at Nancy’s party, not interactive, I was very inspired by the idea of making the visuals interactive and also adding audio elements [and a] musical performance element, which was amalgamated into the installation at Jazz Fest. We had a musical performance at the top of every hour where I played clarinet and we had a cellist and I programmed the swings to be an actual instrument and act as an effects pedal. We had the swings changing the sounds of these acoustic instruments.

Still from Pendula by Nancy Lee and Kiran Bhumber


ST: What was the timeline for this project to come to total fruition?


NL: About 8 months on and off.


ST: Can you tell me about the experience of performing it at Jazz Fest? Was anyone allowed to go in and swing?


NL: Yeah, after every performance, we invited people to come use the swing sets. And it was interesting, during the performance, because I’m playing the swings, it was interesting to see people’s facial expressions, how they reacted to the piece. You could see their “aha!” moments when they figured out what the swings were actually doing. I enjoyed seeing that moment.


ST: And how did you start working with swings? I’m just wondering because there used to be a public installation by my bus stop in Montreal where swings played different musical tones.


NL: Oh yeah I’ve heard of that! I started working with swings because I like climbing trees and I like building things out doors. Swings are kind of an easy thing to build. You just need rope. And I was dumpster diving and salvaging construction wood that I would use for swing seats. It costs very little to build a swing and the kind of return you get for the community or user is so much greater than the financial cost of building it. It is a really great investment for the community to build swing sets. You generate so much joy from it.


Usually we’re used to art installations being behind glass or a “do not touch area”. There’s a very definitive boundary between the observer and the art piece. And with this swing set, people do come up to us and ask, “Are we allowed to touch it?” But when people can play on the swing set they kind of become the piece. And some of the people who were using the swing sets, they kind of understood that, you know, “I’m becoming a part of the installation.”


KB: And also the addition of individuals on each swing. The piece is going to be different depending how many people are on the swings. So, the social adaptation and amalgamation of their swinging motion to create more aspects of the piece.


NL: We have three swing sets, so they’re kind of a three-piece ensemble. And [the people] all play the swings in a different way so the collective audio-visual output is different every single time.


ST: Did anybody get really into it at Jazz Fest?


NL: I think at the Jazz Fest, because of the setting, people were into figuring out the swings. People tested out different things. I think with public art installations, people are still pretty shy. People were more into figuring out how it worked than playing it as an instrument.

Still from Pendula by Nancy Lee and Kiran Bhumber


ST: Is this the first time you’ve set this piece up?


NL: It’s the first time that we’ve done the three swing sets with the audio and visual.


KB: It’s been challenging incorporating the audio into a space that will allow it. So there’s no sound bleed. That’s an issue we had with Jazz Fest as well. The previous installs have been just visual because of that.


ST: How did you overcome that challenge at Jazz Fest?


KB: We got bigger speakers.
ST: Have you two collaborated before?


NL: This is our first collaboration together, but this is just the beginning of something. We plan to do more interactive musical pieces and performance pieces as well. We have so many ideas in our head that we would definitely like to explore in the future.


ST: Do you have any upcoming events?


KB: I just had my upcoming event today actually. I curated a show for Jazz Fest that was all based on interactive works. So technology and music. But at this moment Nancy and I are going to Kamploops in a couple days to start working on a new project. It’s kind of more vague now. We’re just going to check out the site.


NL: It’ll also be interactive, but more on the exhibition side of things, rather than a performance.


Watch: Pendula by Nancy Lee and Kiran Bumber

Pendula was on exhibition in Vancouver June 20 and 21st as a part of the Vancouver Jazz Festival. Visit www.swingwithpendula.com for further information on the Pendula Exhibit, and www.coastaljazz.ca for more information on the festival.

This interview has been edited and condensed. Thank you to Jelissa at Classics Agency.

Ora Cogan is a BC-based musician first, jeweler second, with an environmentally conscious way and an affinity for creating. Ora is currently touring all over Europe, armed with tunes from her recent E.P., Crystallize, and a couple disposable cameras. On a down day she was so kind as to talk with us about her upcoming project, Fortresses–which she’ll be launching in Lisbon on June 4th–her creative process, and the common threads that tie her work together.  

Photo by Luz Gallardo
Ora Cogan, photo by Luz Gallardo

Sad Mag: You’re no stranger to Vancouver. Where did we see you last? What have you been up to?

Ora Cogan: Vancouver is awesome! It will always be a home to me and I come pretty often to visit and work on creative projects, etc…

Since I’ve been gone… Well, I made some dear friends from Bella Bella and worked on a short documentary called No Tankers Territory about Heiltsuk Women’s perspectives on the Northern Gateway Pipeline and contributed some music to the sound track of a film called Northern Grease also dealing with tar sands and pipelines and all that insanity.

I also started making recycled silver jewelry under the name Heavy Meadow that helps to pay for all this music silliness.

With music, I’ve been working on a few projects other than Fortresses:

I’ve started playing with E.S.L.’s Joy Mullen. We’ll probably have some sort of band in the near future.

I recorded a new EP called “Crystallize” with Trish Klein from Hidden City Records at Otic Sound in Vancouver. It was a really wonderful experience. We got to work with Zach from Summering on drums, Caton (C.Diab) on bass and Chris Gerstrin among others. I’m really happy with how it turned out.

SM: What has drawn you towards this ethereal post-Americana style?

OC: I spent quite a lot of time listening to old blues like Geeshie Wiley, and Skip James as well as Mediterranean music like Marika Papagika and Rembetika… As far as aesthetics go, I’ve always been a bit of a dreamer… I like making music that sounds landscape-ish and romantic. I am also pretty nature obsessed, so I’ve written a lot of songs that are kind of about human drama, but also [about] a place I’ve had some kind of connection with.

SM: Was it always natural for you to be a performer?

OC: Haha… Hell no. I get so nervous. Sometimes the songs are so personal and it can be hard to get into being that vulnerable or I worry if it’s really valuable to other people, but I’m starting to finally see how similar we are and it’s easier to just connect thinking that way. Music is such a great way to find autonomy too and l love playing live shows even when it’s a bit scary. Improvising keeps things pretty real. I’ve also been using visual projections and experimenting with different approaches.

Photo by Luz Gallardo
Photo by Luz Gallardo

SM: From where do you derive your inspirations?

OC: Oh goodness…just the bizarre experiences you can have being alive on this strange little planet! I’m confused and fascinated all the time. People… especially people who are really true to themselves and each other.

I can dance in the kitchen to D’Angelo or Deerhoof or really whatever you throw at me. I’m in love with music and I have a few personal heroes for sure: Joni Mitchel, Irma Thomas, Billie Holiday, Karen Dalton, Bjork, Neil Young… If you’re talking about aspects of life… I write about love, about struggles, justice also about subtle feelings that are hard to communicate in any other way… The lyrics are usually a bit abstract and I wish I could be more articulate with the topics that I care about, but the lyrics come out vague, so I try to respect that.

Photo by Luz Gallardo
Photo by Luz Gallardo

SM: Could you describe what one could expect from Fortresses?

OC: Texture, beauty, and darkness. I want to play and feel free to try things with this project that I wouldn’t usually do as a folk singer… so it’s going to be an adventure. I’m using lots of layers of guitar, violin, harp, voice, etc., and then adding midi and synth drones/lines… It’s going to be very full and maybe even danceable at some point? We’ll see…

SM: What were your goals for Fortresses when the project was first conceived?

OC: To try something new, to have a bit more fun and to do something a bit bolder…

SM: Do you have a “creative process”?

OC: I write all the time, about anything, but a song always starts with a melody and it’s really not a very conscious thing… the lyrics just come from somewhere and then I step back and build around whatever comes up. It could start with something small when I’m messing around at sound-check or practicing… Sometimes I’ll start humming something when I’m walking or at work and just record it quickly, then come back to that idea later. The biggest trick for me is privacy and having a soft focus, not being too critical.

Photo by Luz Gallardo
Photo by Luz Gallardo

SM: Is there a common thread to the music that you make?

OC: I’m really up for trying anything but I come back to pretty, gentle and dark most of the time. Sometimes it’s angry or happy or whatever; I’d never want to be quarantined to a certain feeling or style forever, but there’s definitely a thread that keeps pulling me in that dark, gentle, introverted direction…

SM: What has been the most surprising thing about creating your art and then displaying it for the world to see?  

OC: I’ve been really fortunate to get to connect with underground music communities all over Europe and North America. It’s been inspiring to see how much amazing art & music is out there and to meet so many kind and interesting people.


Take a first listen to Fortresses‘ “Winter” here, or check out the stunning music video (shot by Luz Gallardo) here: 

ora vud

This interview has been edited and condensed. 


skye promo photo

Skye Wallace is a national treasure. Her third studio album “Living II Parts” is a melodic, raw and orchestral beauty that tells an untold narrative about the vast Canadian landscape. Skye has the ability to reel you in for story time, paint portraits of barren vistas and give the illusion that all things are dead.  Her music and performance elicit power and beauty, coupled with vulnerability. She’s currently traveling the country but we caught up with Skye to ask her SadMag Local Musics Q’s:

If life weren’t filled with music it would still be filled with stories and art, some way or another.

A good show means heat and heart and soul and barely remembering what it is that you’ve done—not due to any kind of intoxication, but due to being lost in what you’re creating.

Your backing band is a very talented bunch. Devon Kroeger is my right hand (wo)man. She’s been there through thick and thin. The release show is an excellent example of what the ideal setup tends to be: myself on vocals and guitar, Devon on violin, Alex Hauka on cello, Stevie Beddall on drums, Wynston Minckler on bass, Owen Connell on keys, and Ben Doerksen on electric guitar.

Bedtime is nice, if it comes naturally.

My daily rituals include definitely brushing my teeth twice a day.

Touring is hella enjoyable; having moved around a lot when I was younger, I have certainly practiced detachment when it comes to things and homes. I don’t find it difficult to shed domestic comforts.

Best city to eat in while on the road: Burrito Jax in Halifax makes this answer Halifax

The musician to make babies with would be: Tom Waits. I like to think we’d get each other.

Favourite music video as a teenager: Sun 41 – Fat Lip/Pain For Pleasure

Favourite much music VJ: George Stromboulopoulos

Name of your favourite pet: Gummybear. A funny anecdote regarding pet names: I saw a chain email once saying your stripper name is your first dog’s name and then your first street name. This lands me at Willy Putsey. Not very sexy.

Skye is headed to Toronto to release “Living Parts” at the Horseshoe Tavern on June 4, 2014. Listen to her new album on Soundcloud and escape into the beauty that is skyewallace.com.

Photo Credit Serena Jo Coutts

The Abramson Singers are many voices to be reckoned with. Writing beautifully crafted, catchy songs about topics that touch on the Canadian landscape, the group hits chords both physical and political.

Through their heartbreaking storytelling and always staying true to their folk roots, the band forms bright melodies and layers of musical depth. “Late Riser” is their newest release since 2010’s self-titled album “The Abramson Singers” and was produced by Colin Stewart  (Dan Mangan, Brasstronaut). The album is soaked with lush band arrangements, craving warm summer nights on the porch and a dog by your side. With as new album on the horizon Leah Abramson answers a few questions with Sad Mag.

Hello. My name is: Leah Abramson

I live in: An old house in Kensington-Cedar Cottage

When I’m not playing music I’m often: Gardening, teaching, or making sauerkraut. I’m only putting down the most wholesome activities here, just in case my mom reads this.

My favourite city to visit is: I can’t pick only one. Montreal, Prague and Paris. (Bagels, dumplings and croissants.)

Song I can’t get out of my head: “Give Out” by Sharon Van Etten

The last book I read was: “Thousand Mile Song: Whale Music in a Sea of Sound” by David Rothenberg

Blog I am addicted to: Cuteboyswithcats.net

Life or daily mantra: What would Jeff Goldblum do?

I never leave home without: Wallet, phone, keys (repeat after me).

If I weren’t a musician I would be: Running a family sauerkraut business. Or a radio producer?

If I was buying you a drink what would you be drinking: One of those fancy in-the-coconut drinks that the Waldorf used to serve, or else Jameson’s on the rocks.

New album “Late Riser” comes out: May 14, 2013. Our Vancouver Album Release Party is May 30 at Chapel Arts.

Preview The Abramson Singers new single “Jack of Diamonds”

& be sure to check out The Abramson Singers news, shows and tours.


As the New Year hit, Rolling Stone magazine had claimed that Vancouver’s Punk Scene was blowing up; as a city with a great deal of 90’s resurgence. While recognizing Vancouver’s well-known title of “No Fun City,” the magazine celebrated great local acts such as White Lung, Japandroids and Nu Sensae, amongst others. Their attention focused on great local albums, Rolling Stone recognized the city as having great talent and hope for being a city that produces solid work on the world stage. As many great bands start out in Vancouver, many also leave or disband, leaving the creative flow disjointed. Although this may be a challenge for a city that continues to lose great music venues, one thing holds true for Vancouver: there is talent, community and, for the most part, support. With local organizations like Safe Amplication Society and Girls Rock Camp Vancouver, we demonstrate the ability to be progressive while investing in a music-empowered future.The March playlist showcases ear candy local bands and suggests that Rolling Stone may be right about our city’s music scene.

Listen to March’s Local Musics – Spring Break!

Japandroids – The Nights of Wine and Roses
Sex Church – Not Anymore
Needles//Pins – 12:34
Slow Learner – Grocery Store
Yung Mums – Cobra
Hard Feelings – E on the 13
B-13’s – Burnt CD’s
Apollo Ghosts – Ultra Kool
Thee Ahs – To Young for You
Peace – The Perp Walk
Ladyhawk – Rub me Wrong
Tranzmitors – You Get Around
Channels 3 and 4 – The Queen
Shearing Pinx – New Gospel
White Lung – Viva La Rat
Nu Sensae – Swim
Baptists – Farmed