2025 Polaris preview, part one

A look at 5/10 shortlisters + 5 that got shafted

The Polaris Music Prize gala is at Massey Hall next Tuesday, September 16. I dove into the longlist here. You can find the shortlist here.

This week’s live music listings are here.

Here’s a deep(ish) dive into 5/10 shortlisters and five more we should be still talking about. Other than major sponsor CBC, I’m not aware of any other outlet paying this much attention to Polaris, so if you know of one, please let me know. I’d love to read it. In the meantime: Thank you to all the paid subscribers who make this possible.

The contenders:

Bibi Club – Feu de garde

The album: Woozy, dreamy, sweet sun-baked pop duo driven by the guitars of Nic Basque and the vocals/electronics/percussion of Adèle Trottier-Rivard. The lyrics detail quotidian magic. The music is new wave and modern. The guitars are hypnotic. Trottier-Rivard is mesmerizing. I reviewed it here.

This is a breakthrough album for the Montreal act, though FWIW I prefer the debut. Glad to see so many people joining the club. And for Basque, it’s his first return to the Polaris shortlist since he was in Plants and Animals in the late 2000s.

The chances: Good. This band’s sound is very du jour, in the post-vapourwave Beach House-y landscape between the shoegaze revival and actually interesting guitar work. Their bilingualism could help them overcome the francophone curse at Polaris, a curse that’s long overdue to be broken—to date, Karwka have been the only franco winner, and that was 15 years ago. That said, there’s another strong franco contender this year (Population II).

However: genre-wise, Bibi Club could loosely be called “indie rock,” which—contrary to public perception based on stereotypes from two decades ago—has not usually fared well at Polaris. Bibi Club might not win for the same reasons Alvvays will (likely) never win.

Lou-Adriane Cassidy – Journal d'un Loup-Garou

The album: Well-crafted franco pop in the Haim vein, and remarkably accomplished for a 22-year-old—who’s already released another full-length since this one. It’s also not my bag, so I’ll reserve any further comment. But know that this isn’t some dark-horse fluke: Cassidy is trés populaire au Quebec.

In the spirit of small-world Polaris camaraderie, there’s a song here that’s a duet with long-lister Ariane Roy; it’s also named after her (“Ariane,” obviously); there’s another that features another long-lister this year, N Nao.

As a Gen X-er, though, I can’t believe that there’s a new Québécois song called “Dis Moi Dis Moi Dis Moi” that has no relation to the 1990 Mitsou hit of the same name:

The chances: Slim. I’d venture that, in addition to the francophone handicap, Cassidy’s pop music is too… normal? For Polaris grand juries, anyway. Aurais-tu peur de moi? she asks. Maybe, mais il faut une première fois à tout.

Marie Davidson – City of Clowns

The album: For anyone as ancient as me, Davidson draws heavily from darkwave ’80s electro and techno, somewhere between Kraftwerk’s Electric Café, the Detroit of Kevin Saunderson, and whoever Depeche Mode were tapping for remixes in 1987. Mix that with some early 2000s electroclash, a whole lotta Berlin, and Debby Friday’s recent genre-mashing, and you wind up in City of Clowns.

By the way, I love that a Montrealer called her album City of Clowns.

This is Davidson’s second time on the shortlist, after her 2018 album spawned the underground hit “Work It.” Her international profile keeps rising: I have it on good authority that this album is front-racked at all the best Tokyo record stores.

She’s very good at what she does, and City of Clowns finds her continuing to improve. Musically, anyway. Lyrically, her intonation is sometimes like that of a robotic helpline operator: “Bitch, don’t forget to recycle.” Maybe it’s me, but Davidson’s brand of deadpan techno can’t help but remind me of Bruce McCulloch’s Tammy character. Sure, her lyrical influences here on tracks like “Demolition” apparently include Shoshana Zuboff’s Age of Surveillance Capitalism, but something gets lots in the delivery. I’ll blame the ESL. Does that matter while you’re dancing?

To be a total pedant: In “Y.A.A.M.,” she spells out F-U-C-K-Y-O-U several times—directed at brand influencers trying to co-opt her music—but not the title acronym, leaving us guessing as to what it means. “All your asses on the floor,” she intones. So the title stands for “Your asses are all mine,” perhaps? Not a question that keeps me awake at night, but still.

There’s a good interview with Davidson here, about how old-fashioned she is—she only got a laptop a few years ago, and is in no hurry to have AI disrupt her hands-on approach to electronic music.

The chances: Fair. Depends on whether anyone on the grand jury has ever been to Berghain (or even know what and where that is). I can’t see Davidson having a broader appeal beyond her genre—a genre in which she’s internationally respected—but plenty of niche weirdos have won before. And among her fellow Montreal Polaris winners, Davidson is musically closer to Kaytranada than Godspeed.

Saya Gray – Saya

The album: I’m not usually the kind of person who insists that technical skill is paramount when judging a work of art, but I’ll go out on a limb and say that Saya is the most musically advanced and interesting album on this year’s shortlist—or at least, the one that combines those attributes with pop songcraft (see the less accessible Yves Jarvis, below). Gray excels as a singer, a guitarist, a songwriter, and the arrangements here are consistently inventive. On top of all that, the production is impeccably vivid, tickling the ears from every corner of the speakers. And you can actually sing along. So I’d call that a success.

The jazz-trained Gray, who spent years as Daniel Caesar’s musical director, is clearly a massive nerd with intergenerational appeal, for fans of everyone from David Bowie to Kate Bush to Radiohead to Dirty Projectors to late-period Feist to whomever post-trap pop tracks like “H.B.W.” represent (Mk.Gee, maybe?). Though apparently she stans for Michael Jackson.

I reviewed it here. You should read Megan LaPierre’s Exclaim profile, and/or Emilie Hanskamp’s profile in the Kit.

The chances: Excellent. In my review of the album, I actually called this “Polaris bait.”

Yves Jarvis – All Cylinders

The album: I’m going to completely contradict myself after that Saya Gray review above, because All Cylinders is similarly the work of a clearly brilliant musician—and yet it leaves me ice cold.

It’s less than a half-hour long—and yet it feels ten times longer, like wading through three discs of Prince outtakes from a misguided yacht-rock phase in the mid-2000s. Or like a folkier Thundercat. Or a proggier Brittany Howard, if you’re into that kind of thing. I am not.

That said: a track like “I’ve Been Mean” has plenty to suggest that I just need to spend more time with this record, that it could be one of those early bafflers that becomes a favourite. Or it could just be a lot of work.

All Cylinders, you say? THAT’S TOO MANY CYLINDERS.

But don’t listen to me. The guy clearly knows what he’s doing—and even if I think I know what he’s doing, I probably don’t.

The chances: Fair. If only because this album screams “wild card,” much like Polaris itself.

More records below, but first a reminder:

Win tickets to the gala!

2025 marks the 20th anniversary of the Polaris Prize and its gala, and I have three pairs of balcony tickets to give away for the Sept. 16 event at Massey Hall, featuring 9/10 shortlisters performing (no Mustafa.)

As a bonus, each winner gets a poster of their choice (subject to availability—sorry, Rush fans) from Polaris’s beautiful history of commissioning original artwork for each shortlisted album and Heritage Prize winner. You can peruse those here.

To enter, tell me your favourite Canadian album released since 2005 that never shortlisted (this will require you to do some research). Transform that ancient grudge into free tickets! And if you don’t win, I’ll have a discount code available that will get you 15% off tickets to what promises to be quite a show—the relatively recent move to Massey Hall has been a big plus for the gala, and it’s a tightly run ship despite the number of eclectic performers involved.

Enter by either responding to this email or in the comment section. I’ll pick three winners on Friday September 12.

Now, 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

Art d’Ecco – Serene Demon

The album: Reviewed here: “Every single song here sounds like a hit—from 1981, in the best possible way: the tail end of glam mixed with disco and burgeoning new wave and just before synths replaced actual horn sections. d’Ecco obviously has hooks, delivered in an alluring gender-slippery voice,” but the rhythm section, the horn section and the string sections are all just as key to why this album totally slams.

I went on to name-check Sloan, Gang of Four, John Barry, Pigbag and Prince. I’d throw some Spoon in there, too. Do you like those acts? Then you owe it to yourself to listen to Art d’Ecco. This should not be a hard sell.

In an article I wrote for the Globe about summer festivals, I said this about his appearance at Do West Fest in front of a crowd who had no idea who he was:

But within minutes of Art d’Ecco taking the stage, the space in front fills up immediately, where indifference turns to mildly curious turns to OMG-what-is-this by the end of the second song. Art d’Ecco’s band is hot, playing like they could fill a stadium. The singer himself is wildly charismatic, and the songs sound like a distillation of David Bowie’s biggest hits. It’s all original material. It’s safe to assume that the riveted crowd just found their new favourite act.

This CD was in regular rotation for my summer drives in ’25, and likely will be for many more years to come.

Why it didn’t shortlist: Because he’s from British Columbia, maybe? Polaris is historically not kind to Westerners (there are none on the shortlist this year—not even perennial faves Snotty Nose Rez Kids).

More likely it’s because d’Ecco’s previous four albums were mildly acclaimed but mostly met with indifference. At this point he’s a mid-point career artist in a stage that can make him easy to ignore—until 20 years from now there’s an inevitable reissue campaign and he’s the subject of an underdog documentary that wins multiple awards. CELEBRATE HIM NOW.

In the spring, he said he’d return to Toronto this fall. No sign of that yet (there are some U.K. dates). Don’t miss him and his band when he returns.

Goldie Boutilier – The Actress

The album: It’s a six-song EP, actually, but it’s overflowing with charisma and great songs.

Boutilier is reintroducing herself to audiences, as a 40-year-old woman who was signed as a 20-year-old pop star and moved to L.A., where she was featured on tracks by many high-rollers (Diplo, Steve Aoki, etc.). A bad contract had her fleeing to Paris to reinvent herself as a DJ under a new name. After returning home to Cape Breton to detox and start over, she’s using yet another new name and coming into her own as a torch-y pop star with a live band behind her—apparently the first time she’d ever done so. Her first big tour in this new incarnation was opening for Orville Peck, a match that makes perfect sense.

Nick Krewen tells that story in SOCAN magazine.

Boutilier’s voice is stunning, a cross between Stevie Nicks and Serena Ryder, and the songs on this EP are filled with hooks. They should be: she gets help from song doctors Simon Wilcox and Tawgs Salter, both of whom have worked with Ryder on her biggest radio songs. The relatively sparse arrangements leave maximum room for melody.

Every single one of these songs should be a hit.

Why it didn’t even long-list: No idea. But Serena Ryder doesn’t get on these lists, either. Nor does Kandle—another highly underrated torch-pop singer. But I suspect Boutilier’s best days are in front of her.

Change of Heart – Into the Wreckage

The album: Anyone who’s read any of my books will know how much Change of Heart means to me. After a 28-year gap, these giants of CanRock history reassembled with an album that featured everyone who had ever been in the band, a triumphant reassertion of community and endurance.

Also: it’s a very, very good record.

My review and interview with bassist Rob Taylor is here: “For a bunch of people in their 60s, this band is not about to sit around moping about the past or fretting about the future: the focus is on the now, what we can all do for each other NOW. Thankfully, there’s nothing in this record that sounds like a band trying to recapture their youth or tap into new trends for ‘relevance’: this is exactly what any fan would hope Change of Heart would sound like in 2025.”

Why it didn’t even long-list: Men over 60 from Toronto playing rock music. Three strikes!

Choses Sauvages – III

The album: It’s been a great year for Quebec artists, which I discussed a bit here. From that review: “Choses Sauvages began as more of a yacht-rockish, disco-adjacent band—that’s all gone now (thankfully). This time they take a sharp turn into the influence of XTC, Can, Gang of Four, Fear of Music or Stereolab on amphetamines. Groove is paramount, the guitars are jerky, the synths are playful, and the vocals are unusually sweet—especially when the mononymous Lysandre shows up for what passes for a ballad here.”

Why it didn’t shortlist: My only guess is that there was such a wealth of Quebec talent this year that, among the non-Québécois who actually pay attention to the franco scene, the vote was split with too much competition.

Cold Specks – Light for the Midnight

The album: Reviewed here, where I said: “Light for the Midnight is a survivor’s record, anchored by Ladan Hussein’s majestic, gospel-inflected voice, ravaged slightly by time—not exactly on the level of Marianne Faithfull’s Broken English, but definitely with a confident I’m-still-here defiance. The music is largely stately Nick Cave-ish piano ballads, brooding downtempo rock songs, and two songs that could even be called pop (‘Venus in Pisces,’ ‘Cold Goodbye’). The sparser the arrangements, the stronger her voice sounds.

“Light for the Midnight takes all of the magic of her debut and recasts it with hard-won experience. She has sympathetic collaborators as well: string arranger Owen Pallett, Portishead guitarist Adrian Utley, CanRock star producer Graham Walsh (Holy Fuck), pianist Johnny Spence (Jeremy Dutcher) and co-songwriter Chantal Kreviazuk.

“ ‘Carry my curse away,’ she sings.

“Consider the curse lifted.”

You should read Richie Assaly’s Cold Specks profile in the Toronto Star.

Why it didn’t shortlist: A mystery. Only thing I can think of is its late April release, one month before the Polaris deadline—but historically that hasn’t prevented plenty of other records from shortlisting, or even winning. It didn’t help that Hussein also bowed out of all publicity and live shows after it came out—understandably, considering the narrative of the album.

Next week: the remaining five shortlisters and five more overlooked albums.

Congrats for reading this far, Canadian music fan: