Friday, Feb. 27

* Saturday Night Fever screens at BBAM! Gallery
* Florida indie heroes Hundred Waters play with Suno Deko and She-Devils
* MEG electro/pop showcase w/ Someurland, Human Human and Fragile Feet
* Sérénade Obsolete DJ night with Marie Davidson and Xarah Dion
* Faggity Ass Fridays with DJs B’UGO and J’vlyn d’Ark

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Maximum Wattage

At this point, if you still don’t know who Mike Watt is, I’m afraid we can no longer be Facebook friends. Watt is a punk fuggin’ rock vanguard and bass player extraordinaire. The man’s pedigree speaks for itself — Minutemen (!!!!!!), firehose, solo artist and, for the past five years, “thunderbroom” player for the Stooges. The motherfuggin’ Stooges fer chrissakes!!!!!!
Not one to rest on his laurels, Watt has just released a book of his nautical-themed photographs, with the odd “spiel” tossed in for good measure. It’s called On and Off Bass, published by Three Rooms Press (100 pp, $26). I highly suggest you get your mitts on it, as it’s guaranteed to spruce up any coffee table. While we’re at it, another great Watt title that is definitely worth hunting down would be his 2003 book Spiels of a Minuteman, from local publisher L’Oie de Cravan.

Pop Montreal day 5

The Monday after Pop is always bittersweet. You don’t want it to end but your body is glad it’s over. You don’t know what to do with yourself other than turn up some music really loud and rock out in your apartment, if only in a fetal position. That’s what the Cult MTL music team is doing today, and sharing our memories from last night. Lorraine Carpenter, Erik Leijon and Emily Raine ventured out for the festival’s last stand, or the night of the fancy lanterns.

The poop on Pop

The annual Pop Montreal festival is indeed upon us this week. Every year, I religiously tap out an introduction with a don of the ol’ cap to everything I love about the festival. Usually I’ll start greasing Pop’s wheels with some flowery phrases about how it adds to the culture of our fine city, sidesteps the overbearing corporate presence that mars other festivals, books an incredibly eclectic range of bands, maintains its grassroots appeal while operating like a well-oiled machine, brings in amazing volunteers to supplement the amazing staff and blah blah blah.
But this year there are just too many rad shows happening to be so verbose, even in this relatively versatile format, so I’ll refrain from the usual Pop reach-around and get to the point: Pop Montreal is the tits, jack! (Pop reps can reach me at the address below for permission to use that one.)

Hey kids, get outta my backyard!

As the leaves start trembling and ready themselves to be torn asunder from their branches to slowdance to the ground in their demise…yeesh, did I just write that? Okay, I might’ve torn a page out of my grade school journal there so, uh, let me have another crack at an intro. When the Main once again gets carpeted in Technicolor two-dollar chow mein/PBR puke, you don’t need a calendar to know that school is dangerously close to being in session.