By Rachel June

Salut from the Festival de musique émergente (FME)! In a world full of Glastonburys, ASBO wants to uncover the treasures exhibited by an all-star international line-up. This time, we’re heading to rural Canada, where we’ll soon discover that FME is entrancing and otherworldly, beaming with unique sounds from a passionate generation of talent. So, join me as I fly out to this remote corner of Québec to discover the next artist you'll have on repeat. From punk to trance, indie, rock, jazz, electronic and metal, there’ll be something for everyone in the mix.

I made it to my Air Canada flight with seconds to spare, and quickly got acquainted with my new music journalist friends through the infamous thrift scene in Montréal. We spotted an American school bus and began to feel truly far from home.

The journey to Rouyn-Noranda, Abitibi-Temiscamingue

We journeyed through endless trees and huge lakes, and I began to feel my chest tighten from the pure density of it all. The forests went on and on as we dove deeper into unknown territory. It was a certain anxiety that could only be cured by my growing curiosity.

Some time later, I arrived in a small, strange, remote Northern Québec mining town. As we explored the wide streets, unusual sounds seeped from within the festival gates, drawing us closer. I felt like I was inside an episode of Desperate Housewives! Rouyn-Noranda felt like a slightly sinister suburban bliss buried deep within the woods. What I discovered was that this place was a home away from home. Every corner held new creativity and endless opportunities to feel inspired.

Malaimé Soleil was when it finally sank in for me. This is why I’m here. The music. Especially sung in the beautiful French language. The 4-piece band, from Québec, had crowds jumping in unison whilst guitars lifted deep into the forest. I spoke with them post-set, where they told me: “We build this music for live performance. It’s the purest form of our art. Music is beautiful, important, and it means something. Remember why you make music. It keeps the music alive”. So, stay tuned for their third album, which is on the horizon. In the meantime, enjoy their latest album here. I have ‘Tout rattraper’ on repeat.

We then headed to the Petit Théatre for Max Baby. He and his guitar jumped around as he sang into the crowd, with an absolute banger earwigging me nonstop: ‘Nothing Ever Changes’. This star is one to watch, with crowds happily bouncing in mosh pits and dancing along to the infectious sonics.

The sets feel anything but rushed here. Each moment lingers, giving every band time to settle into the stage and really embrace their performance.

Back at the main stage, our feet were glued to the floor as we stood in utter awe at Les Louanges. The band had such synergy on stage, as lead singer Vincent Roberge, AKA ‘Lou Lou’, tells me: “Playing with them is just amazing. It just gets better each year”, having come back for his 7th FME appearance. “‘Correct’ is the best song to perform live”, he says. "Its message is to look after each other in a world that divides us". Find Les Louanges on tour in France, and I'm praying they play the UK soon!

Choses Sauvages were next, and did not disappoint! Everyone understood the assignment, and there wasn’t a phone in sight. Groovy, bass-heavy tunes summoned synchronised swaying from the crowd. Lead vocalist Félix Bélisle was Freddie Mercury’s twin, singing to us in French with style and class. Let’s party like it’s 1990!

The night ended with Public Appeal, an outspoken, ethereal singer-songwriter. The audience was arrested by her hypnotic experimental electro sounds, along with her mesmerising movements. We simply had to grab her for a chat after the show, where she told me, “I love to dance as if no one is watching. I don’t choreograph anything for my sets. If anything, I feel like I black out on stage”. On fashion, she speaks about her look styled by Micaela Gomes. “I like getting looks from people”, she says. “People are confused, but enamoured”. Iconic.

For first-night impressions, I’m already surprised, and don’t feel so far from home anymore.

Fully into the festival spirit now, with a self-inflicted ‘FME’ tattoo firmly placed upon my cheek, I stepped out into the now-familiar streets, accompanied by new friends all searching for undiscovered artists playing in the various nooks and crannies of the town. 

Overjoyed by the wide variety of non-alcoholic options, I sipped on a Red Sangria at Paramount, listening to the hauntingly soothing sounds of Mykalle. Then came one of my FME highlights, La Sécurité. Betty Boop-esque lead singer Éliane squeaks pleasantly over the haphazard yet perfectly in-sync band behind her, as if in a flow state.

I blinked and spontaneously spawned at Jashim’s polarising and poetic set. Jashim’s sound mixes languages and music styles, embracing their Colombian roots. As the band stood and the beats played, we watched as red words were painted onto a white sheet.

 “A system that has been written for men can be unwritten”. 

Everyone could feel the meaning, message and passion behind the art. 

My inner rock chick was released at Iguana Death Cult’s lively set. I headbanged and jumped to their explosive energy, whilst slowly becoming increasingly aware of my impending mosh-pit-squish. So I went to rest outside and found fellow writer Toby, who said: “I just need to get my legs to work again”. Me too, Toby, me too.

Rouyn-Noranda is picturesque at night. Red lights beam through flowing trees as the entrance structure sits watching over us all. “Imagine what this place is like without all this”, said Harvey, another writer on the trip. “It’s just a street, mate”, I said. We laughed and soaked in the remainder of the evening and the utter bonkers-ness we found ourselves in. FME, now you have my heart.

I’m so far from home, yet right now this is the only place I want to be. Walking around the festival, you feel constantly in another dimension or time. Smoke pours across the air and shoots through the light, feeling almost dystopian. Every new corner feels like a liminal space, everything so vast, so wide, and so different from what I’m used to. The locals greet you with smiles, and everywhere you turn, people enjoy each other’s company as festivities ensue. 

The next day brought new excitement. Hidden in a retro video store venue, Xela Edna took to the stage. Her glitchy, robot-like alter ego entertained the whole room, showing us that real performance goes beyond the words; it’s complete expression.

I even managed to cop some absolute steals at LCS Studio. C$10 later and I’d got myself a whole new outfit. They kindly gifted me an upcycled Quebec Police tee, and it’s unlikely you’ve seen me in anything else since. There's plenty of shopping to do here in between acts! 

Secret sets? Yeah, that’s a thing. Actually, I overheard someone saying there are at least 25 of them. I found myself not so secretly waiting outside my beloved 24-hour Poutine Shack ‘Morasse’.

Truck Violence took to the makeshift stage set up in the parking lot, screeching into the shadows with their heavy metal sound as a projector lit up the brick wall. I was in a technofied cyberland parallel universe. They moved like the smoke from the chimneys.

Saturday night was FME’s busiest. The streets were filled and bustling, and I unexpectedly wound up at one of the best sets I’ve ever been to. TDJ had me spellbound with her trancey-techno-clubland fusion. As soon as she felt the energy in the room, she thought, "Ok, here we go". TDJ knows her music, tapping into the archives and resurrecting old bangers like ‘Like a G6' and 'Adagio for Strings’ (Tiësto remix). We were suddenly in the early 2000s living our clubland trance dream, dancing alongside TDJ non-stop until the end. A certified ASBO standout, we asked for her to impart some wisdom for our readers:

"There can be 10 or 10 thousand people in a room, but there's always going to be that one person you can look at that will give you the energy you need to feel connected to what you do".

The night ended with a photoshoot in the bathroom of Room 101 after-party…Don’t ask.

Now it's back to La Petit Theatre, where I was in high anticipation for Balaclava, a band of New Yorkers I’d met back in Montréal. All of them are wild, cheeky jokers. I watched the band (now separate entities from the men I’d just met) headbang on stage with loud, very loud, guitar, bass and drums. Lead vocalist Dylan sang hilariously about relatable annoyances with punk attitude, and I found myself shoving a middle finger in the air, rebelling against landlords asking for rent. I mean, the cheek of it!

I had to grab Angus, the guitarist, for a post-show chat, where he told me that wearing the Balaclava lets him “Become a character”, but adds that “They are hot and they stink”. Nice. He advises aspiring musicians to “Work your ass off. No one else will work it for you”. So expect more from the crazy band as they tour Europe, the UK, and the US. With songs like ‘THE COUNT OF RAT PISS MANOR’, they certainly won’t bore you.

It’s the last day, and we set off on a new adventure. Unbeknownst to us, we’d soon be whisked off in a speedboat by a man in a cowboy hat, Marty. He drove us fast across the lake as I forced everyone to listen to my current addiction, ‘Midnight Sun’ by Zara Larsson (The Pink Pantheress remix, of course). Begrudgingly, they complied, and when the romanticising was over, we played the more appropriate Viagra Boys, Lambrini Girls, followed by an agreeable Al Green. 'Take Me to the River' played as we shot through Lake Kanasuta, and two physical copies of ASBO made their way to the woodland homes of Québec. Location: ‘unnamed road, Abitibi-Témiscamingue’. Tall trees overlooked masses of water as the sun gleamed from above. “I guess we take it for granted”, Captain Marty sighed. I took a dip in the Canadian waters, and even gave fishing a go! 

The last night ended with DJ Flleur, who had now become part of our crew. That’s what it’s like here. It’s up close and personal. You’ll see someone on stage and the next day rocking out at another gig. Flleur is the type of DJ you hold Shazam out to whilst dancing. Her variety and choice picks meant we were grinning from ear to ear, dancing to Fontaines DC one minute and Tears for Fears the next. Knowing it was all ending, we soaked in every last inch of FME that we could before heading for one last poutine.

Flying away from the sparkly lights and with a long journey ahead, we finally found ourselves back home to drizzly London. “Get me on that Lizzy Line”, Harvey said. Writer Fin couldn’t stop beaming: “I’ve had the time of my life.”

If you’re looking for a truly unique festival with music that’ll light up new parts of your brain, go to FME. You’ll discover tons of new music, meet amazing people and hear sounds you probably wouldn’t find anywhere else. It’s a place where every corner holds something new, and where strangers quickly become friends.

I hope to be back to tell another tale, but in the meantime, listen to my favourite songs of the week here and taste FME for yourself.

Until next time,

Au revoir!