McSweeney’s List (6 September, 2023)
Accessible Audio for McSweeney’s List will be available soon!
This week’s McSweeney’s (Play)List is songs about the seasons!
"We have to get ready for winter," I said, shades on, sundress swishing, skin comfortably roasting. "It's September," was the reply. While that turned out to be accurate, the feeling didn't care. I was sweating like summer, but in my bones the change of season was looming like a storm on the horizon.
It's hard to say exactly when the switch happened. Was it when the students switched up apartments, littering Plateau streets with random refuse? Or that night last week when a cold wind snuck up on me and made me shiver in my jacket? There's no date on the calendar that marks the change from strawberry-basil to pumpkin-spice, but that shift has indeed happened.
Those close to me hear my complaints about heat and humidity. Those physically close to me can see me sweating, turning beet red for no reason as my core temperature threatens meltdown. Regardless, summer's fantastic! This summer in particular has been a wild ride of events, art, blankets in the grass, and sunsets in the park. While there's definitely more of that to come, and despite the annual arrival of an autumnal second summer, in so many hearts the season is already done.
My creepy friends are already posting Halloween prep, though even they know they're jumping the gun. Stylish people are whispering about flannel, sweaters, boots, planning photo shoots before the leaves have changed. For my part, I'm still finding fab fruits and making super salads, but I keep catching my inner dialogue asking questions about soups and chilis, making a list of squashes I look forward to eating. I also have this panicky sense of fleeting time, which isn't new, but at this time of year the feeling comes straight from my toes. Every moment they spend in the sun, the grass, the rain, they seem conscious of the fact that socks and boots are on the way. They're headed to foot prison for months, and they're trying to get their kicks in.
Admittedly, climate change owes us a bonus. After a summer of apocalyptic fires (still in progress), I'm hoping we catch a break in the form of a gentle ease into autumn, and maybe even a mild winter. Even so, as we shift from summer to deep freeze, our patterns change in time. Soon enough we won't be able to laze about the park, running into people we know and future friends. We'll have to choose who to invite where, and what we'll do when we get there.
I've often wondered what it must be like to live somewhere with less than four seasons. Fantasizing about year-round flowers and endless sandal season, I have no idea how they know when to switch out lemonades for lattes. This is Montreal though, and our shifts come in stages. Before the geese leave, the freshmen arrive, equally in formation and matching plumage. After the festivals and closed streets come concerts and theatre, and gallery shows. Our internationally renowned stylish streets switch out their wardrobes for whole new looks. It's like living in two different cities. Considering Montreal is so often typecast as the filthy fun friend who gets you over your various limits, it's probably a good thing that Mother Nature gets involved. She intervenes, gently at first, scooting us back inside, telling the tourists the party is over for now. Pedestrian streets become honking boulevards once again, and we remember our desks and inside hobbies. We take our terrasse lives home for dinner parties, an inadvertent tradition in which the people we've met upgrade into the people we know.
Without the social shifts of our seasons, we'd exhaust ourselves at best and ruin ourselves at worst, becoming a metropolis known for shallow pleasures and cursory attachments. As it stands, we gather our rosebuds and then return home, to reflect, to decompress, to make proverbial jam, or whatever one does with gathered rosebuds. We digest our summer over harvest dinners, and gather our communities around our hearth. While I'm not looking forward to the weather, I must admit that my spirit is ready for quiet soup with friends.
Yes, I am writing this in a heatwave, and yes I am struggling with the humidex. It's 830 AM, and the cicadas are singing. The breeze is drying my sweat cold though, and the students have infiltrated my commute. Welcome to September, Montreal. If you're looking for me, I'll be barefoot in the grass studying up on stews.
TONIGHT!
From Alo Azimov, Aurora Knaut, Kaja Levy and Raquel Maestre, The Poly Mic is a weekly queer open mic where many artistic expressions are welcome! Comedy, music, poetry, drag, come watch the show, or sign up for your moment in the spotlight right here! Rotating hosts every week, entry is free!
WHAT: The Poly Mic
WHERE: Notre Dame des Quilles, 32 Rue Beaubien St. E., Montreal, H2S 1P8
WHEN: Every Wednesday, 8 PM
METRO: Beaubien (Orange)
DETAILS: Facebook
Read Local
Author Sarah Gilbert has been watching her neighbourhood change for years. Her latest book pays tribute to the location and the locals, and I can't wait to read it. "Our Lady of Mile End is a neighbourhood of stories where recurring characters face personal challenges and unexpected intimacies against a backdrop of renoviction and walking tours. The overlapping lives — of girls and women, tenants and landlords, neighbours and strangers, the old generation and the next — chart the tensions and affections among people living in a community that has turned into a destination."
WHAT: Sarah Gilbert Launches Our Lady of Mile End
WHERE: La Petite Librairie Drawn & Quarterly, 176 Bernard St. W., Montreal, H2T 2K2
WHEN: Thursday, September 7, 7 PM
METRO: Rosemont (Orange)
DETAILS: Facebook
The Stuff Myths Are Made Of
The Stuff Myths Are Made Of
From Priddy Playful Productions, the group that brought Once Upon A Time…And Never Again to this year's Fringe Festival, and Bridgerton, Improvised to Ladyfest comes Legends Only. This improv show brings ancient gods, heroes, and creatures to life, taking you on a wild ride through epic tales that have captivated generations.
Will Zeus, Thor, or King Arthur make an appearance? There’s only one way to find out! Featuring some of the city’s most legendary improvisers, the show includes two parts: a set inspired by a story and a mini improvised play woven from myths and legends. Don’t miss this unforgettable journey through the realms of time and imagination!
WHAT: Legends Only
WHERE: Montreal Improv, 3716 Notre-Dame St. W., Montreal, H4C 1P7
WHEN: Friday, September 8, 930 PM
METRO: St. Henri (Orange)
TICKETS: Eventbrite
Music First
Montreal based ALIAS is described as "a smooth and soaring, elastic and soothing psych rock project". I couldn't have said it better myself. Composer and multi-instrumentalist Emmanuel Alias is quoted as saying he'd gone through "more than four paths" before arriving at this incarnation, and it sounds like he's found his niche. With an EP and an album released in the past two years, and Montreal Jazz Fest credits, they're wearing it well.
Local band Debate Club has been making music together since 2012. The band really got grinding in 2020, "working relentlessly on new songs, instinctively going back to its shoegaze and dreampop roots". Their latest EP Égarements Vol. 1 dropped earlier this year, so come see what they've been up to!
WHAT: ALIAS with Debate Club
WHERE: Bar Le Ritz PBD, 179 Rue Jean Talon W., Montreal, H2R 2X2
WHEN: Friday, September 9, Doors @ 630 PM, Show @ 730 PM
METRO: Jean Talon (Orange)
TICKETS: Universe
Dance Next
Party like it's 2008-ish! Sweat, dance, and sing to your favourite 2000 indie artists and the alternative legends who inspired them. Gossip, Interpol, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Joan Jett, Patti Smith, The Kinks…the list goes on! The last two of these events sold out, so get your tickets early.
WHAT: CALL ME! Alternative & Indie Sleaze Dance Party
WHERE: Bar Le Ritz PBD, 179 Rue Jean Talon W., Montreal, H2R 2X2
WHEN: Saturday, September 9, 11 PM
METRO: Jean Talon (Orange)
TICKETS: Universe
McSweeney’s List drops every Wednesday with the best events to catch each week in Montreal!
