SOUPCANS with CELLPHONE, RUNNING and PLASMALAB at Cinecycle (129 Spadina), Saturday (December 5), 9 pm. $10 at the door.
Soupcans‘ newest album of heavy noise punk, Soft Party, freshly released on Telephone Explosion, is at once harsh and agitated, bewildering and terrifying, comical and intense, as transfixing as the Toronto trio’s performances. “Brutalism” is the word they use on their Facebook page, in addition to “weed punk,” “perverse” and “avant garbagé.”
“There’s brutalist architecture all around Ontario,” says bassist Nick (no last names, please) over drinks at Handlebar. “I remember playing on concrete swing sets and concrete dinosaurs at Sunnyside Park as a kid. All that rebar and concrete must’ve influenced the type of music I like and how I express myself.”
“But you understand that brutalism is kinda loathed, though,” counters singer/guitarist Dave, who regularly animates the conversation with absurdist tangents and quasi-philosophical musings. “I like windows. Fuck brutalism. And fuck me, I guess, cuz I’m a brutalist now.”
Along with drummer Jordan, they recorded the album over two days in a Hamilton studio with engineer/producer/”sound sculptor” James Toth, the vocals done separately at a Toronto studio they aren’t allowed to name.
The production quality is a leap forward for the band, whose previous releases were made in bike shops, warehouses and basements. Several songs are mega-trippy, others unpredictable, like Psychosomatic Rash, which sees Dave talk-sing over a hypnotic, atonal guitar riff that abruptly ceases and gets replaced by an incongruous, shrill noisescape. How did that idea happen?
“I don’t know if you could call it an idea,” says Dave. “We just didn’t know how to end the song. The song is really just one idea over and over – this off-kilter riff going in and out of phase with itself. Basically, the ending was like in a Broadway musical when they go, “And all that jaaaaaaazzzzz.”
He sings that last part in a loud, booming voice while shaking out his hands. It’s the best.
Were the songs informed by any particular life experiences? You know, is Soft Party a breakup album? A concept album?
“Dob is about a really bad drug experience that Nick and I had,” Dave offers. “I wouldn’t say it was bad, but it was overwhelming and gruelling and exhausting.”
“Infinite,” Nick adds. “Or indefinite.”
Another was inspired by a book by true crime writer Ann Rule that Dave found on the side of the road – “a classic tale of domestic violence that ends in murder and that ruined my life for the next two days.”
The three bandmates speak fondly of staying in Hamilton for two days to record, of getting away to focus completely on their band of six years. In an ideal world, would they like to do more of that?
“Speaking for myself, I wouldn’t want to only have music to do,” Dave says. “I know people are like, that’s the dream. Go into the studio at 9, leave at midnight. But there are so many other parts of life. Music is just one. There’s also drawing, writing literature and poetry, sculpting and dance.”
“Comedy,” says Jordan, “jewellery-making.”
“Jewellery,” Nick laughs.
Dave stares straight ahead. “These are all things you should be concentrating on and doing.”
carlag@nowtoronto.com | @carlagillis
