Pouzza Fest, my beloved. The yearly chosen-family reunion where fans of punk, ska, and hardcore pile into Montréal’s downtown for three days of premeditated chaos.
It’s become a staple of my spring since moving to Montréal, and truthfully, becomes more and more enjoyable with every passing year. After the triumphant return of the festival’s free outdoor stage last year, following a 5-year absence, only to be met with miserable weather, I couldn’t be happier that this weekend’s relocated, even larger free grounds were graced with sunny, 20-degree days.
This year, despite not getting a media pass, my three-day ticket came as part of being a festival volunteer. I wanted to help the largest edition of this grassroots festival in more meaningful ways than I have in the past, and putting in some free labour helped give me some additional insight on the behind-the-scenes of the festival.
My shifts consisted of setting up and tearing down various booths and stations around the outdoor grounds, which for the first time this year, were located at Place des Arts’ Esplanade Tranquille, which backed right up to the city’s busiest street of foot traffic. This is where Pouzza thrives and why my first edition in 2019 was so special. Folks walking in off the street and getting sucked in to the inclusivity of punk subcultures. There’s no better place for that than Place des Arts.
However, having worked as a volunteer, and alongside security for some time, this year’s layout was an absolute nightmare for every unsuspecting tourist and local who were forcefully subjected to having their bags searched once the fenced perimeter was put in place.
Lines in the street, frustrated and confused pedestrians, and miscommunications between the festival and security on what is or isn’t allowed was a significant chunk of my day 1 experience. It was far from ideal. I’ve seen way too many shopping bags to count, and even witnessed people with service dogs be turned away, despite the festival promoting that all pets are welcome.
Thankfully, by Day 2 and 3, it seems a compromise had been made, and getting in and out of the grounds was a lot less stressful. I’m thankful the lack of bag searches didn’t lead to any unsafe moments on the grounds, either. I would love to see the main gates be put along Rue St. Catherine’s north side in future years.
Letting people walk by freely, and can come into the grounds if they’re even a little curious would make for a much more seamless in-and-out experience. Having absolutely everyone weave through the Pouzza ambience made for some wonderful moments, though.
My favourite of which happened on the acoustic stage, when Germany’s Tim Vantol brought his powerhouse vocals to a whisper as an elderly lady crossed the front of the stage with hands over her ears, and immediately after, another elderly man looking back at us in amazement as he was crossing behind the stage, as 50-odd people chanted back a melodic “woah woah woah” singalong with unified passion in our hearts. This was just one of many “You had to be there” moments that were peppered through the festival, some of which I’ve exclusively heard about through other friends.
Wheatus mostly playing audience-requested covers is one such example. I don’t care for Teenage Dirtbag, like, at all, but witnessing their take on Rush or Slayer’s Angel Of Death would have been something. Another favourite had-to-be-there moment of mine was during Guilhem’s acoustic set at Foufs at the Saturday lunchtime barbecue, when a woman with a small dog walked through the bar to the back terrace to complain directly to Guilhem about the noise level during his set. He played it off like a pro, and gave the rest of us something to laugh about for the weekend.
I loved the addition of the relatively early acoustic Foufs sets. Those who got up on time could also see Billy Liar, Jesse LeBourdais, and Charlie Weber power through the hangover in their voice to an attentive, intimate crowd in a cool, shaded setting. More acoustic artists could be found, for free, at a side stage on the grounds. Rob Moir was a personal favourite of mine. As he, through captivating anecdotes, and stories told through honest lyricism, strummed some heartfelt tunes that made me feel something wonderful.
Also on the free grounds, a Musicopratik-sponsored tent that housed some fantastic bands that weren’t officially on the lineup, such as Aruba’s Active Mirror, and Montréal locals Lost Boys. With all that, on top of the regularly announced secret shows, there became more and more to keep up with as the festival went on.
Among the regularly scheduled chaos, I caught Devon Kay’s secret set at Théâtre Sainte-Catherine on night two, featuring some fun ska-adjacent tunes and a cover of Harvey Danger’s Flagpole Sitta. That song fit Devon Kay’s vibe so perfectly that I’m not even sure that man is real. I also caught Bat Sabbath’s secret set closing Foufs on night one, immediately following Baroness. It was nice to coast down from all the adrenaline and unwind with those two doom and sludge acts.
Truthfully, for me, Pouzza Fest this year was more about accommodating the friends coming through than the bands playing. As solid as the lineup was, most of my weekend activities didn’t stray far from what I could have seen for free. It brought me so much joy bringing friends from outside the scene into our world to experience PUP or The Planet Smashers for the first time, while I was enjoying them for the tenth.
That’s not to say I haven’t made some stellar discoveries as usual. The Foufs/Cabaret stage alternation stays winning, and exposed me to Gully Boys, and Rebuilder, two favourite discoveries of the festival, along with Edmonton’s Home Front back on the main stage. Maybe most impressively, every venue’s schedule was run like a well-oiled machine. I didn’t notice a single stage running late for the entire three-day run. Props to all the sound guys and stage/venue managers for keeping that on lock.
I’ve never run into so many different circles of friends in so short a time. Co-workers, scene friends, out-of-town acquaintances, even friends walking through and discovering the site by pure chance all crossed paths with me in the first few hours of the festival. It helped me master the art of the 10-second conversation.
As with any three-day bender fueled by music, various substances, and friends of all types in multiple places, there were high highs, and low lows. Still, through the chaos and self-discovery, it’s our chosen blood that picks us up when we’re down, and helps us feel like our best selves when we feel on top of the world.
Pouzza Fest is one of the most special festivals I’ve experienced, and this 14th edition further cemented its legacy in this country. The community it represents thrives strongly and encourages inclusion where, in my experience, most inner-city music festivals do not. There weren’t any egos at the festival, it was very refreshing to have everyone be so accessible. Seeing members of headlining bands mingling with festival goers in our common spaces feels like the way things should be.
I can’t imagine the festival scaling much larger than it already is, but I hope, above all, it stays accessible, independent, and for the people. Hell, they just announced they’re doing a Pouzza at Playa Del Carmen in Mexico this coming March. I’m excited to see where that leads to for next year’s already-announced Montréal edition.
So, whether it be volunteers like myself, or the paid contractors that put themselves through back-to-back 16-hour days, there’s a reason we do it. It feels good to give back to the music scene that helps us find our sense of purpose in a world that we haven’t always belonged in. I can only hope we keep having the privilege to reunite with buds visiting from out of the province, and continue to show our friends outside the punk scene the kind of events that motivate us to keep living our best lives. I can’t wait to see what next year’s edition brings.
Long live Pouzza Fest.
Review – Mathieu Perrier
Photos – Alex Distaulo and Kate Woolliams
