Polaris Music Prize, day 3: Les Louanges, Haviah Mighty

Part three of five posts looking at this year's Polaris Music Prize shortlist, as well as some should've beens. Day one is here; day two is here.

The shortlisters: 

Les Louanges – La nuit est une panthère (Bonsound)

The album: Slick R&B pop in the same neo-’80s vein as Blood Orange, Twin Shadow, et al, and à la français. I’ll admit that I was surprised this was the album that franco jurors rallied around, as opposed to Salomé Leclerc, Laurence-Anne or even the acoustic Jean Leloup record. Les Louanges is the project of Vincent Roberge, of Lévis (across the St. Lawrence from Quebec City), and this is his debut record. He’s a student of jazz and a lover of R&B, and there are certainly some unconventional harmonies and textures here that make it anything but rote, hence the numerous accolades he’s been getting from in and outside Quebec. It’s not a fusion that works for me, as someone who lived through the ’80s and wasn’t exactly jonesing for a combo of Scritti Politti and Level 42 minus the pop songs. I can’t begrudge his talent, but this record leaves me ice cold. Is he the Quebecois Frank Ocean? I’m the wrong guy to ask, because I’ve never been able to dive into Ocean, either, so take that for what it’s worth. I also suspect the unforgivable Steely Dan renaissance has something to do with this, though that's hard to prove. 
 
The chances: Karkwa! 





Haviah Mighty – 13th Floor (independent)

The album: I thought we’d be talking about this Brampton MC last year, as part of The Sorority, a group of female MCs who found strength in numbers (and became the first four-member rap crew that I can recall in a long time). Sadly, that record didn’t longlist. But Ms. Mighty (yes, that’s her real name) more than holds her own on the 13 songs on 13th Floor. Co-produced by A Tribe Called Red’s 2oolman, 13th Floor is a slick hip-hop/pop hybrid that showcases this woman’s immense talent as both a singer and rapper. There’s no particular musical angle here: the trap element is minimal, there are Caribbean flavours, nods to U.K. grime, some AutoTuned R&B, some spoken word and political poetry, some Rihanna-esque pop. The consistency comes in Mighty’s delivery: her talent matches her charisma, which is at Lauryn Hill levels throughout. The fact that she shares this shortlist with Jessie Reyez speaks volumes about the future of feminist hip-hop, in Canada and elsewhere. 


The chances: Very strong. I’ve got my money on someone else to take the prize, but this would be my second bet. And if she doesn’t take it this year, I’d bet that she does sooner than later. Unrelated to this discussion: her live show is the bomb. Expect her to deliver all the goods at the gala.


The could’ve/would’ve/should’ve beens:



Lee Harvey Osmond – Mohawk (Latent)

The album:

My January 2019 review:

Tom Wilson has a story to tell. He always has. Until somewhat recently, he didn’t even know what it was. As he details in his 2017 memoir Beautiful Scars, his family was full of all kinds of secrets, one of which—spoiler alert—is that the lifelong Hamiltonian was born to two Mohawk parents in Kahnawake, outside Montreal.

On the fourth album by his current band, Lee Harvey Osmond, the former Junkhouse leader uses the title track to set an excerpt of his book to music. It is evocative and haunting, setting the scene for Wilson’s first visit to Kahnawake to meet his sisters. As spoken-word verses with a sung chorus, it’s not unlike Robbie Robertson’s “Somewhere Down the Crazy River” (produced, of course, by fellow Hamiltonian Daniel Lanois), though Wilson easily beats Robertson at his own game.

The rest of the record is business as usual for Lee Harvey Osmond—and business is good. Moody, bluesy folk rock that leans toward the minor keys, it’s driven by the slow, loping bass lines of Anna Ruddick, perfectly tasteful guitar work by the wizard Aaron Goldstein, and evocative horn lines by Darcy Hepner. It all underscores Wilson’s delicate baritone, as always delivered like an old carny sharing secrets with you in a southwestern Ontario town after the Ferris wheel shuts down for the night. Harmonica from Paul Reddick and backing vocals by Suzie (Oh Susanna) Ungerleider are welcome additions.

Producer/co-founder Michael Timmins once again brings an obvious Cowboy Junkies vibe to the whole affair—most explicitly on a faithful cover of that band’s underrated 1996 single “A Common Disaster,” which is ripe for rediscovery.

Despite Wilson’s persistence in clinging to this truly awful band name, Lee Harvey Osmond remains an embodiment of 50 years of roots, rock, folk and blues in this province—from Ian & Sylvia and The Band to Jennifer Castle and Timber Timbre—and should be considered a national treasure. There’s nothing here to surprise fans of the first three records, but not enough people heard those albums—so hopefully Wilson’s new literary profile while shine some more light on his new songs.

Why it didn’t shortlist: Ever the bridesmaid, never the bride: Wilson is in the unofficial Polaris Hall of Fame for the most appearances on a longlist without shortlisting. Considering the age demographic of the jury, I would never expect someone of Wilson’s vintage to shortlist. Only Leonard Cohen, Gord Downie, and Buffy Sainte-Marie have ever done that, and in each case those were exceptional circumstances—and exceptional artists. No slight against Wilson, but he doesn't have that godlike status.





Steven Page – Discipline: Heal Thyself Part II (Warner)

The album:

My September 2018 review:

Discipline is perhaps the single strongest collection of songs Page has ever assembled.

He warned us that he was not messing around. Earlier this summer he dropped the single “White Noise,” and released a lyric video featuring footage of the Charlottesville neo-Nazi rally, over which we could hear an unusually punk rock Page singing, “I tell you, as an immigrant and a Jew / I’d be more than glad to replace you … Let’s have a Second Civil War! / That’s what the Second Amendment is for … Said the snowflake to the nationalist / ‘I won’t cease until you desist / you raise your flag, I’ll raise my fist / Resist! Resist! Resist!’ ” He wasn’t just interested in sloganeering, either: the song itself was a major-key pop song that would stand as one of his finest singles, regardless of what it was about. Fist, meet velvet glove.

The rest of the record isn’t pointed as directly at the jugular (with the exception of the brief interlude, “You Fucked Yourself”), although opening track “Nothing Special” is a similarly political song, where it’s odd to hear a peppy pop song with the couplet, “Children starving in the desert sun / look out, mama, junior’s got a gun!” Much of the genre-jumping song there is set to an “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” shuffle and similar synth sound. Page’s secret weapon throughout, as it was on 2016’s first instalment of Heal Thyself, is Craig Northey of the Odds, who also shares some co-writing credits.

What sets Page the solo artist far apart from his previous work is his embrace of lush orchestration—indeed, he’s performing several gigs this fall with local symphonies. The arrangements suit the range of his melodies; Page has always been somewhat underrated as a vocalist, but even a casual listen to this record would illustrate his obvious skill. Several tracks lean on a bossa nova beat, notably the satire of anti-science skeptics “Gravity” (“All I can see is what God tells me to see / and we live in a world that’s outlawed gravity”), while others echo Burt Bacharach (“What I Got From You”) or Broadway (“Done”), with a straight-up 6/8 R&B ballad for good measure (“Where Do You Stand”).

It would take a game-changing, incredibly strong record to help Page shake the baggage of his former band. This record is it.

 I haven't been posting any videos during this series, but I really don't think enough people heard this song, various lyrics from which run through my head at least once a week while trying to crawl out from under an avalanche of depressing headlines. 

Why it didn’t even longlist: Even if it wasn't made by a former member of Barenaked Ladies, for most Polaris jurors this likely sounds too much like Michael Bublé. Which, of course, it doesn’t at all. But this is definitely music for old folks. NOT THAT THERE’S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT. (Hi, I'm one year younger than Steven Page.)

Tomorrow: Day four, with Pup and Jessie Reyez, as well as two more should've-beens