It’s that time! The Polaris Music Prize gala is at Massey Hall next Tuesday, September 17. You can buy tickets here and use the promo code POLARIS25 for 25% off. I dove into the longlist here (paywall temporarily suspended). You can find the shortlist here.
(This week’s live music listings are here.)
Without further ado, here’s a deep dive into 5/10 shortlisters and five more we should be talking about.
The contenders:
Bambii – Infinity Club
The album: It’s an EP, actually. And a very good one. Bambii is a Toronto DJ renowened for her work with D.C. R&B artist Kelela, as well as for a long-running party called Jerk—which started more than 10 years ago at Double Double Land in Kensington Market, where Bambii cooked mounds of jerk chicken to serve free to dancers. Her background is fascinating, as detailed in this very good article in Resident Advisor (mysteriously without a byline, WTF):
She inherited a wide variety of musical tastes from her culturally omnivorous Jamaican mother, who listened to a blend of reggae, house, jazz, classic rock and '90s dancehall. She'd dropped out of a primarily white arts high school [I’m going to guess ESA] where she harboured a secret love affair with punk and indie rock, then later returned to an adult school that was mostly Black and brown immigrants who listened to hip-hop and R&B. She would stroll around her South Asian and Caribbean neighbourhood and hear Bollywood scores pulsing from the passing cars.
To my memory, Infinity Club might be the most Caribbean-influenced album (EP) to ever make the Polaris shortlist, with the possible exception of 2019 winner Haviah Mighty. It’s anything but a dancehall album, though: there’s more than a bit of the progressive side of American R&B (Sudan Archives), as well as the U.K. jungle revival (Nia Archives).
Would love to hear what she and Debby Friday would get up to together. Or with Bonjay’s Alanna Stuart. Or, hey, why not shoot for the moon—Beyoncé.
The chances: Slim. Seven songs in 18 minutes—is that enough? Everything about this EP seems like a teaser of something bigger and better. Expect Bambii to be back on a shortlist sooner than later, but I don’t think she’ll win for this.
The Beaches – Blame My Ex
The album: Babybabybaby I love this album from top to bottom in ways I don’t even like rock’n’roll anymore. I went deep on it and said more than enough here. (Paywall temporarily suspended.)
The Beaches have been working their collective ass off for the last 12 months, including a hometown headlining gig in front of 16,000 people. So while they’re sitting out the Polaris gala, frontwoman Jordan Miller will be performing with teenage rockers the Thunder Queens, from London, Ont. She has an obvious soft spot for Girls Rock Camp grads.
The chances: Fair. If there’s going to be a bunfight in the jury room, it will be about this album, if only because: a) it’s very popular in the real world, leading to is-this-really-Polaris-territory-and-do-they-need-the-money-blah-blah-blah; and b) it’s by a group likely to namedrop the Jonas Brothers and who learned about the Beatles by playing Guitar Hero as kids. What, that’s not cool enough for you?
Polaris has only once gone for the commercially popular choice (Arcade Fire, 2011). It’s unlikely to this time. But sure would be nice for a change. C’mon, it’s been more than a generation already. It would also, frankly, help rescue the prize from spiralling further into obscurity—whoops, did I say that out loud?
Charlotte Cardin – 99 Nights
The album: Chappell Roan is having a moment, but for me this not-dissimilar Canadian pop star is more interesting, mainly because she writes insanely hooky minor-key pop songs somewhere between New Order, the XX and Billie Eilish. Even if you don’t know the name, you have most definitely heard Cardin’s music out in the world in the past year, especially the single “Confetti.”
I wrote this last fall:
In a different era, Cardin would be a torch singer: a strong lower range balanced by an intimate, wispy upper range. Her arrangements are sparse and slinky, letting the melodies do the heavy lifting: this is not maximalist pop tailored for Dua Lipa-level arenas. This is headphone music. Songs like “Confetti” jump out of a radio mix — Cardin is a welcome respite anywhere you’re being bombarded with today’s top 40 …
99 Nights is packed with as many potential hits as, oh, I don’t know, The Weeknd — but way less creepy. (And oddly enough, both artists have a thing for/with Jim Carrey.) And on closing song “Next to You,” Cardin aims more for soaring art-rock balladry à la Anna Calvi.
There’s a good profile by Dave McIntosh in CultMTL here, including bits about the collabs with fellow Montrealers—two very different Montrealers—arty crooner Patrick Watson and rapper Skiifall. It’s not remotely surprising Cardin is a big fan of both.
Cardin sold out two nights at Massey Hall this year, and yet she’s still coming back from her new Parisian home to play a couple of songs at the gala.
The chances: Slim, for all the exact same reasons as the Beaches above. But of those two acts I think the rock band has a better shot over the pop star.
Cindy Lee – Diamond Jubilee
The album: The one’s for the weirdos. It’s a great record, and said everything I wanted to about it here. (Paywall temporarily suspended.)
The only place you can hear it is here (attention CBC fact-checkers: it’s not actually a GeoCities site, it’s a lookalike hoax; GeoCities shuttered in 2009) or here, on this not-remotely-obscure-or-elitist platform:
The chances: Strong. Never underestimate Polaris’s contrarian streak, and this would be a big Godspeedian FU to, uh, the entire music industry.
And yet, because so many people expect this to win, that might be the very reason why it won’t! Go figure.
DijahSB – The Flower That Knew
The album: Laid-back Toronto MC makes their second shortlist appearance, with their first full-length. I’ve always liked Dijah’s ’90s neo-soul boom-bap vibe, the antithesis of much modern rap; their 2020 release was a favourite that year. I don’t have much to say about this record, though; there’s another rap record on the list I much prefer. But Howard Druckman has a good piece in SOCAN Magazine here.
The chances: Fair. Only because this year seems quite wide open, and anything could happen.
Some records that I voted for, or almost voted for, that are not shortlisted but should still be in the conversation:
The coulda-woulda-shouldas
Allie X - Girl With No Face
The album: Lots of artists adopt ’80s synthpop cosplay with mixed results; this L.A.-via-Oakville artist went all in and came out with one of the finest modern examples of the form. Yes, it’s totally retro, which means that if you missed this era the first time around, Allie X is your girl; if you sit around wondering why no one today is playing with analog synths like your fave early OMD and Depeche Mode records, then Allie X is your girl as well, with or without a face (or, uh, mammaries).
I wrote more here.
Why it didn’t shortlist: Too retro? This sound is almost as ancient as rockabilly at this point in history. Or maybe the videos were, uh, a little too goth-y and theatre school. Which should not distract from the music, but:
Big Brave – A Chaos of Flowers
The album: People think the Cindy Lee album is the “weird” one on this year’s list. It’s not that weird, and it could’ve been made at least 30 years ago. Big Brave, on the other hand, melts my face and turns my brain inside out until I’m crouched Low Low Low on my living-room floor spitting out a bunch of mixed metaphors and comparisons like I did earlier this summer here:
Big Brave are often labelled “doom,” as in doom metal. They’re not. They are a blues band … the kind of heavy blues made by a generation raised on Sigur Ros, Fennesz and Sunn O)))). Like the children of the Cowboy Junkies, raised on Godspeed You Black Emperor instead of Patsy Cline. (Efrim Menuck of Godspeed produced the second Big Brave album.)
Big Brave do for the blues what Lankum do for Irish folk music — though nothing about Big Brave is sonically traditional. It’s crushing, to the point where you can almost physically feel the weight of the music — not a common sensation, and quite an achievement (credit to Rhode Island engineer Seth Manchester). …
Guitarist Mathieu Ball manipulates glacial mountains of feedback that lurch and envelope everything Big Brave does. That includes the vocals of second guitarist Robin Wattie, who at times sounds like she’s a ghostly child calling in from another dimension in a supernatural Arctic story.
Thunderin’ tundra! One would guess this Quebec band was from Ungava Bay rather than one of Canada’s largest urban centres.
Why it didn’t shortlist: Too heavy, in every way. As a side note, I’ll take this any day over the internationally acclaimed Toronto/Oshawa death-metal band Tomb Mold, who also longlisted. Not remotely surprised that neither record shortlisted: Polaris only gets heavy for punk (Pup, Metz, Fucked Up).
Corridor – Mimi / Ducks Ltd. – Harm’s Way
The album(s): I’m cheating by lumping these two together, but they have a lot in common, more than any other two records I considered this year—despite the fact that one is anglo and one is franco. Both are jangly indie rock driven by propulsive rhythm sections and featuring rich harmony. Ducks Ltd. are sweeter than the slightly pricklier Corridor. Both are an absolute delight.
Wrote about Mimi here. Wrote about Harm’s Way here.
Why they didn’t shortlist: A francophone album released two weeks before the deadline, Mimi didn’t have enough time to build traction—though it did longlist. Also, Corridor haven’t played Canada—not even a hometown Montreal show—since the record came out; they’ve been focusing on Europe, and finally come back home in early October (no Toronto date yet).
As for Harm’s Way—other than Alvvays, indie rock from Toronto hasn’t shortlisted in recent memory; this sound might be too niche for most modern critics (or at least the ones who don’t write Gen X newsletters).
Oh, also: no one cares about R.E.M. anymore (go ahead, ask anyone under 40). R.E.M. fans would love both these bands. Are you a fan of R.E.M. or their less popular peers and antecedents? Dive in.
Lightning Dust – Nostalgia Killer
The album: Now that it’s almost autumn again, it’s time to put Lightning Dust back into high rotation. Do you like Black Mountain, David Berman’s Purple Mountains, and/or Destroyer? Then you need to hear this record by a duo linked to all those acts. Do you like Stevie Nicks, PJ Harvey and/or Sinead O’Connor? Then you need to hear this record. Have you had a rough couple of years? Then you need to hear this album, particularly the opening track (above).
Last fall I wrote this:
[Amber Webber] sings on “Run”: “Hold me under / I’m on my own and numb.” Aren’t we all? Certainly felt that way in the last few years, and often still does. And yet everything on Nostalgia Killer is an antidote to that feeling: it’s the sound of everything having burned down, and choosing what — and who — you rescue from the ashes, choosing who you want to be instead of who you’ve been told you are, even by your own self-narratives. …
Musically, it’s as haunting and delicate as Lightning Dust always has been. But dynamically, most of these songs shift through moods of calm and a rush of intensity (“Rapids and Rivers”). Not in an aggressive way, but in the way that life ambushes you and whips you with gale force winds of emotional turmoil when you’re just trying to get through your day.
Why it didn’t even longlist: Too old, too side-project-y, came out too early in the cycle (June 2023), too… Vancouver? Who knows. It was #1 on my first ballot, FWIW. I did my part!
NQ Arbuckle – Love Songs for the Long Game
The album: This came out well over a year ago and, of all the Polaris-eligible records, I still listen to it all the time. This and the Beaches. Not sure what that tells you about me.
This is part of what I wrote way back when:
This is [Neville Quinlan’s] fifth album, and his first in a while. Life gets in the way. But life, particularly middle-aged life, provides plenty of lyrical fodder. “It’s a wonder we ever sleep at night,” he sings on the title track, navigating the anxieties of the modern world, hiding out in a backyard of twinkling lights, “surfing the stupid Internet” and wondering where all the time goes.
As that title track suggests, Quinlan is here for both a good time and a long time. “I missed our seven-year itch,” he sings, “because I was having a good time.” Not that life is always that romantic: Songs like “Dress That You Met Me In” and “Sad Songs” sound like they could only be written by someone who’s been bruised by more than a few bumps while driving down “Thunder Road.”
Why it didn’t even longlist: Old roots-rock guy from Toronto. ’Nuff said. No one cares! At least, no one still working professionally as a music critic in 2024—unless your name is Brad Wheeler ;) No matter: In the past 12 months I witnessed two packed NQ Arbuckle shows at the Horseshoe Tavern with people who know every goddam word.
Next post: the remaining five records on the shortlist, and five more we should be talking about.
Hey! You actually read this far. This is for you, music fan: