Everyone was just there for Iceage. Still, the first fall counterpart to June’s annual Ottawa Explosion Weekend delivered three days of music spanning genres from acid house to blender noise.
The Ottawa Implosion festival kicked off Oct. 16 at House of Targ. Led by front-woman Caylie Runciman, Ottawa’s Boyhood played dreamy synth pop while a Simpsons video game projected on-screen behind them.
Gears shifted Oct. 17 at Gabba Hey, when the city’s best venue hosted a “dark rave dance party.” The room, normally home to garage rockers, was transformed by a multi-coloured disco ball, glowing light triangles, and steady bursts of smoke. The Ceremony DJs and Fire Coast Acid Club spun tunes while a handful of dancers vogued to electronica.
Punks either scrolled through their phones on the periphery or went outside to smoke and socialize. The cops showed up, but the only crimes committed were ridiculous attempts at dance-offs.
Oct. 18’s show, a quadruple bill of post-punk, was much more characteristic for the warehouse rehearsal space. Heavy pedal four-piece Roberta Bondar opened the night with their last show before guitarist Alex Maltby moves to Spain.
The group played material exclusively from Caustic, their third and most recent tape on local record label Bruised Tongue. The set’s standout was “Palm Bay,” a six-minute epic that descended into a confused mess of feelings and fog.
After Roberta Bondar finished, Ottawa expats Holy Cobras took the stage to play their final show.
Clad in sunglasses, leather gloves, and a Sharpie’d “GOODBYE” across his chest, singer Dan Druff slithered and stumbled into the crowd for most of the set.
Sadly, Holy Cobras fizzled during their last performance of experimental noise, with Druff stopping at points to lie still on the cold, beer-soaked floor.
The weird vibes continued for Italian industrial goths Father Murphy. The two-piece jingled bells into the microphone before sonically slamming the crowd with an abrasive wall of Satanic drone. What else could you expect from a band whose albums are titled Pain Is On Our Side Now and No Room For The Weak? Scared that a demon was actually going to be summoned, I fled the scene about three songs in.
Luckily enough the drummer for local surf punks Tropical Dripps, had instigated a much happier rap battle in the parking lot.
Finally, the moment everyone was waiting for arrived. Danish post-punks Iceage took to the stage smouldering and scowling to follow the release of their third and most divisive album yet.
Lead singer Elias Bender Rønnenfelt tortuously crooned and hurled himself into the crowd, standing on the monitors at times to avoid his audience’s admiringly obsessive gaze.
Despite sincere tracks like “The Lord’s Favorite” and “Plowing Into The Field of Love,” the group’s set felt cold and remote. One of the most gorgeously popular punk bands currently making music, Iceage’s view was pretty from the top, but it sure felt empty. I guess that’s just what it’s like to implode.
