Montreal’s Sam Woywitka has never been one to play it safe. Operating under the moniker SamWoy, the artist has carved out a unique space in the city’s vibrant music scene, one where trap beats dance with saxophone solos, where Gainsbourg references sit comfortably alongside blown-out 808s, and where vulnerability and chaos exist in perfect, messy harmony. With his sophomore album Even Sad Boys Like to Have Fun set to drop May 30th via Hidden Ship, Woywitka is ready to take listeners on another unpredictable journey through his singular sonic landscape.
The “dark watercolour” metaphor that Woywitka has long used to describe his music has evolved alongside his sound, becoming less about visual aesthetics and more about process. “People sometimes ask about the whole ‘watercolour’ idea, and to be honest, it started as a way to describe sound, not visuals,” he explains. “But the more I think about it, the more it fits everything: the songs, the players, the artwork. It’s all these layers bleeding into each other, creating something new you couldn’t have planned out if you tried.”
This approach has become central to Woywitka’s creative philosophy, both as a songwriter and producer. “Sound-wise, I’ve always loved smashing things together that shouldn’t work. Harps and strings up against gritty guitars and blown-out 808s. That clash-those contradictions-that ‘s where I get excited,” he says. Years of working as a producer and mixing engineer have taught him how to make disparate elements cohere. “I don’t go into it thinking, this needs to be a certain style or I want to sound like this artist. I just let it all bleed together. Like watercolours—you let one colour seep into another and suddenly you’ve got something unexpected and better than what you started with.”
This organic approach extends to collaboration, which has become increasingly important to the SamWoy project. Where his 2023 debut Awkward Party was largely a solo endeavour, the new album brings together a core band featuring Ev Bird on guitar, Jeff Mitchell on bass and saxophone, and Thomas Molander on percussion. “I don’t need someone to sound like me. In fact, I’d rather they don’t,” Woywitka reflects. “I want them to bring in something that isn’t already in my toolkit. That’s where the magic happens. Something totally new gets made. Something I couldn’t have done on my own.”
The collaborative spirit has clearly energized the creative process. “Having my friends in the studio this time made a big difference. It wasn’t just me grinding away alone, which helped the songs come together faster and made space for some unexpected stuff to happen while jamming,” he says. The trust between collaborators runs deep, Woywitka recalls telling guitarist Ev Bird, “If anything feels off, man, just say it. Don’t hold back to protect my feelings. We laughed, but I meant it.”
This openness to chaos and unexpected moments is perhaps best exemplified by “Sub in the Trunk,” one of the album’s most memorable tracks. The song’s origin story is quintessentially SamWoy, equal parts absurd and profound. “That verse just became a thing on tour. I kept rapping it to the band whenever we rolled through my hometown, and for whatever reason, it cracked us up every time. I had no idea what the hell to put in my verse, so I threw that one in half as a joke—and boom, it stuck. Too good to cut. Dumb and perfect.”
The verse itself stems from a bizarre real-life encounter that has clearly stuck with Woywitka over the years. “The moment the verse is based on has lived rent-free in my head forever. I mean, how often does someone rap at you while they’re genuinely pissed off and trying to teach you something? Not just yelling—rapping. It was surreal. And weirdly profound.” The incident, involving a weed dealer and a jam session interrupted by an impromptu rap confrontation, encapsulates the kind of surreal, small-town moments that fuel Woywitka’s songwriting. “That was the neighbourhood I came up in—full Skid, no filter. It was pure Trailer Park Boys energy. One of those moments you couldn’t script if you tried.”
The accompanying music video, which Woywitka directed himself, pushes the absurdist elements even further. “The video came from this stupid, kind of brilliant idea I had, what if every time I popped the trunk and this song played, someone just… died? Totally over the top. But it made us laugh, and that’s usually a sign it’s worth chasing.”
Watch the video for Sub in the Trunk (ft. Ev Bird) below:
This blend of humour and darkness runs throughout Even Sad Boys Like to Have Fun, an album that refuses to be pinned down to any single genre or mood. “Genres? No thanks. I’m not here to fit into someone’s playlist category. I make what I love. I take from everything. Modern beats, Gainsbourg, Nina Simone, Tribe, Nirvana, whatever. It’s all in there. Bleeding out of me whether I like it or not.”
The controlled chaos that defines SamWoy’s sound isn’t accidental but a conscious embrace of contradiction and complexity. “Chaos has been my brother since forever. I used to fight it. Now I buy it drinks. We’re good. When I’m in it, really in it, that’s the only time I feel free. I’m not giving that up for anything.” When asked how he knows when these disparate elements are working together, Woywitka’s response is characteristically intuitive: “Hell if I know. I just go with what feels right. That’s all I’ve got.”
The cinematic quality that pervades SamWoy’s work isn’t surprising given Woywitka’s deep connection to film. “Music, film—it’s almost the same thing to me. I never really separated them. As a kid, I was way more obsessed with movies. I used to volunteer at the local video store just to get paid in rentals. That was the dream. Free movies and endless stories.” This early immersion in cinema has shaped his approach to music-making. “Everything I do comes from that cinematic place. It’s always been about building a world, not just a song.”
His foray into directing music videos emerged from practical necessity but has become another crucial outlet for his creativity. “I bought a camera so we could shoot the first FHANG video, and it just kept going from there. Fell in love with it. Now I get to really show people what the music looks like in my head—not just what it sounds like. That’s been the best part, finally being able to paint the full picture.”
Beneath the sonic experimentation and visual creativity lies a profoundly personal journey of healing and self-discovery. Much of Woywitka’s recent work has been shaped by a traumatic brain injury he suffered just before his eighteenth birthday, an event that fundamentally altered his sense of self. “All the music I’ve made over the past few years has been, in many ways, an ode to my younger self and to the friends who shaped those years with me. When I see a photo of myself at seventeen, it fills me with a kind of silent grief. There’s a sadness there that’s hard to put into words. He feels like a stranger now. Someone I once knew.”
The accident left him in a coma for nearly a month, and the recovery process was equally challenging. “When I came to, it was like waking up in a life that wasn’t mine. I felt completely disconnected, from my body, from the world around me, from who I had been. In many ways, I’ve never fully returned. I remember believing, deeply, that I had died and come back as someone else. And to this day, I still feel that the version of me who existed before that moment never truly came back.”
For Woywitka, music has become a way of bridging that disconnect, of processing trauma and finding wholeness. “My music is, at its core, a process of remembering. A slow, imperfect journey toward wholeness. It’s how I try to make sense of it all. How I trace my way back to something real.” The vulnerability in this admission stands in stark contrast to the controlled chaos of his sound, yet both elements feel essential to understanding the SamWoy project.
Sometimes the universe seems to provide its own material for Woywitka’s songs, as evidenced by the remarkable story behind “Si Vous Trouvez Cela Je Suis Au Ciel.” While working on a vintage guitar he’d found on Kijiji, he and a friend made an extraordinary discovery. “Tucked beneath the pickups, hidden behind the electronics—somewhere no one would ever think to look—was a small note. Just taped there, waiting. You’d never find it unless you took the whole thing apart. It felt like a secret from the universe. A message meant for no one, and somehow for me.”
The timing felt especially significant. “At the time, I’d just written a song and had this feeling that it needed to be sung in French. And then—bam—there it was. This fragile paper staring back at me.” The note contained a birthday, a date, and a simple, heartbreaking message: “Si vous trouvez cela, je suis au ciel. Je t’aime, Hellène.” The discovery moved Woywitka deeply. “It brought tears to my eyes. Right there in the shop, I felt this unspoken thread between us. A quiet kind of eternity. I knew at that moment that I had to honour it. That he and Hellène had to be part of the song.”
The collaborative nature of the new album extends beyond his core band to include a rotating cast of Montreal’s musical luminaries. “All the besties! I just go with my gut. I know what each person brings, and I love what they do. I’m super lucky that the people I admire want to make stuff with me.” The approach reflects Woywitka’s fundamental belief in music as community building. “For me, music has always been about community, friendship, and building something together. The dream is a big show where all my friends are on stage with me. Honestly, if it were the old days, I’d be driving a big bus full of pals, sleeping in fields, firing up the BBQ after soundcheck. That’s the vibe.”
The emotional complexity of Even Sad Boys Like to Have Fun its ability to shift from euphoria to existential dread within the span of a single song, reflects Woywitka’s commitment to representing the full spectrum of human experience. “I’m really just reflecting my own feelings, and that’s kind of the whole human experience, right? I’m open to chaos. I’m not afraid of the listener at all.” He bristles at the notion that audiences can’t handle complexity. “People always assume audiences can’t handle complexity, that things will go over their heads—but I think we need to give folks way more credit. Lynch, Murakami, Bacon, Kubrick have all shown us time and time again we’re all deeper than just Love Is Blind and The Circle (which, for the record, I love). I want people to be challenged. I want them to leave a show or finish a song thinking, wait… what the hell was that? And then feel something new crack open.”
This philosophy will be put to the test at the album’s launch party on May 31st at Sala Rossa, an event that promises to be as eclectic and community-focused as the album itself. The lineup includes Patrick Watson, Apacalda, Virginie B, and Janette King on the decks. It’s a testament to the collaborative spirit that defines Montreal’s music scene. “I just want every show to feel like a house party or a big chaotic family dinner where everyone’s welcome and someone’s probably dancing on the table,” Woywitka explains. “Thankfully, Montreal is always down for a good time, so I’m just trying to throw the best party I can for the community.”
The approach to the launch reflects his priorities as an artist. “The album matters, of course, but more than anything, I want people to have fun. That’s always priority number one. I reached out to folks and most replies were basically ‘Heck yes!’ which is the exact energy I’m after. I hope everyone who comes leaves feeling like they got to experience something raw, joyful, and maybe a little unhinged.”
With Even Sad Boys Like to Have Fun, SamWoy continues to push boundaries while maintaining the emotional honesty that has always defined the project. It’s an album that refuses easy categorization, much like its creator—a work that finds beauty in chaos, profundity in absurdity, and healing in the very act of making music with friends. For Woywitka, that might just be enough.
Catch SamWoy at La Sala Rossa this weekend. BUY TICKETS
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