“Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Montreal anymore.”
On Saturday night, Uncle Acid & the Deadbeats made their fourth stop of their North American tour at MTelus. But from the moment the background music stopped and the lights went out, the band shut the door on Montreal and pulled the crowd from 59 Ste-Catherine and into their own world.
Walking into MTelus, it was obvious what kind of night lay ahead. Hundreds of people, all dressed in black—and I mean all in black—gave away that a metal show was taking place. But this wasn’t just a regular metal show filled with headbanging, loud cheers, and signs of horns in the air. This was a night of atmosphere, of immersion, of stepping into another world.
The evening began with an intimate set from the Swedish native Jonathan Hultén, whose performance felt like stepping into a mystical realm. A single light illuminated him, incense filled the air, and a backdrop of leaves and flowers set the tone.
His music transported me straight into the heart of a Dungeons & Dragons campaign, with the vibes of a medieval priest chanting layered vocals, trying to put the crowd in a sort of trance throughout his set. A perfect precursor to the cinematic experience that would follow.
Even the intermission played into the aesthetic, featuring vintage movie theatre commercials from the ’70s—an early sign that the headliners were curating more than just a setlist; they were ready to perform a full-on cinematic experience.
The ambiance keys and eerie guitars signalled the arrival of Uncle Acid & the Deadbeats as the Cambridge quartet took the stage for the first time in three years, starting with “Il sole sorge sempre,” the first track of their latest album. It was clear that this wasn’t going to be a show filled with greatest hits—there would be no “I’ll Cut You Down” or “Melody Lane” tonight. Instead, they had something different in store: a front-to-back performance of their latest album, Nell’ ora blu.
The album itself feels like the lost soundtrack to an obscure late ’70s, early ’80s arthouse thriller—dark, hypnotic, unapologetically moody. So, Saturday night was drenched in old synths, haunting organ sounds, and dirty riffs. I’m talking front-man Kevin Starrs serving riffs using a pocket knife kind of dirty.
Behind the band, grainy Italian film footage flickered, further blurring the lines between concert and cinema. The fully seated audience immersed in the proto-metal sounds leaned into the atmosphere, staying completely silent during the songs, only erupting in applause between the interludes.
It was a night that felt singular, something that may never happen again because of the nature of the show, combined with the specific album release. The kind of show that some people might consider weird and inaccessible. Which… is the perfect kind of show for Montreal during the winter. And for the hardcore fans, a show that they will probably talk about for years, the kind of concert where they’ll proudly tell their friends, “I was there.”
Review & photos – Andres Amaya
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