M.I.A. has made the refugee crisis the subject of a new self-directed video for "Borders," which she's been teasing out on her Instagram this week. With the lyrics "Freedom, I'dom, Me'dom. Where's your We'dom?" Maya riffs off the recent clamor from right-wing America in particular to bar Syrians from entering the country in the wake of recent attacks in Paris and around the world. As bodies scale huge fences—at one point spelling out "LIFE"—M.I.A asks us what's up with the following things: borders, politics, police shots, identities, your priveledge, "killing it", and basically everything else associated with modern life that we've become accustomed to without question.

Watch below via Apple Music.

Follow Emma on Twitter.

Food poisoning! Chasms in the ground filled with protein-deprived shit! A nylon strengthened coffin that’s so hot or damp you can’t sleep in it! Festivals are great! Because no matter how many stomach-clenching toilet breaks or sleepless nights you have to wade through, they’re always worth it when you experience a weekend-defining moment; like watching your favourite band play their debut headline set or taking so many pills you’ve mistaken The Flaming Lips for a secret Basement Jaxx set and thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing.

Now, though, it’s arguable that these moments are becoming less and less of a thing. Because as the kids who rarely washed and would readily subsist on a pack of hula hoops and four cans of K cider for a weekend just to see Nirvana play on a big stage really far away move out, and the tee-pee and glamping sets move in, the headliners of music festivals have become solidified and sterilised, to a point where it's the same old names again, and again, and again. Yeah, some of these bands are legendary acts, but it’s way less exciting the second time around, and it’s even worse the ninth time around when you’re surrounded by millennial punk-rockers with plastic ASOS flowers in their hair. Already, next summer looks likely to feature The Stone Roses, and Muse are a strong rumour for Glastonbury. How much more can we take? Please, before our music festivals become so dry your nan tries to put cheddar on them and serve them to your granda, don’t pay these lot to headline again. They’re all rich as fuck already, anyway.
 

Muse

It’s weird how seriously people still take Muse and Matt Bellamy, considering Matt Bellamy believes that humans are alien slaves. Considering he writes songs that sounds like the pause menu music on a wrestling game. Considering he wrote one about how the Royal Family are descendants of giant shape-shifting lizards from the star system Alpha Draconis, but he didn’t mean it like Charlie Brooker meant it... he meant it for real. Somehow, in the realm of music, we still call blokes like Matt Bellamy ‘headliner material’. But the rest of the world calls blokes like Matt Bellamy, David Icke.
 

The Libertines

"Why shouldn’t The Libertines headline festivals?" you say indignantly, idly fingering the shaky colour drawing you got from Pete after writing to him in incarceration ("Viva Libertines!" it reads. He’s punny.) "They’ve bounced back. Better than ever," you're saying, scraping for positive ways to describe "Gunga Din". But nostalgia can only be mined so far, and after Reading, Glastonbury and T In The Park, I'm afraid it’s time to go full Thatcher on this particular pit.

Kasabian

Oh look, it's Oasis revamped for people who go clubbing in v-necks. Their music is crude, repetitive and rudimentary, like early man discovering rhythm by banging a stone on another stone for the first time. But, Gallagher prodigies that they are, they trash talk other popular bands a lot in interviews and that generates enough attention for them in publications that will market them as alternative when really they’re The Lad Bible in Converse.

The Who

Go on Roger, tell us again how immigration has ruined this country.

Foo Fighters

Purgatory is Dave Grohl screaming “AH GOT ANOTHUH CONFESSHION TO MAIK!!!” into a wide-panning camera, while 100,000 fans heave and sweat in unison, over and over and over and over again. Until, eventually, time halts, the sky goes black, dark energy warps the scaffolding of space-time, galaxies rip apart, and our universe finally buckles under its own weight and collapses in on itself. Nice one, Dave, you really did it this time.

Kings Of Leon

I just can’t. I just can’t spend another summer watching a dad in a Lambretta zip hoodie and straw hat do coke out his fingernails, stick one hand up in the air, close his eyes and howl “SOMEWUN LIKE YOUHHHHHH” along with America’s most normcore rock band.

Calvin Harris

Somewhere, in an attic in Dumfries, a portrait of Calvin Harris gathers dust and grows ever more grotesque. But you can’t really blame him for selling out. Real artistry often withers in the face of $200,000 per night Las Vegas DJ residencies, Pepsi Max deals and boxer shorts adverts. But that doesn’t hide the fact that now he’s just like Jay Z but without that bit where we all thought he was great. And we shouldn’t celebrate that, no matter how good the deathly shrill of commercialised trance synths sound after a whole box of Morrisons’ merlot.

Red Hot Chilli Peppers

Here we have a classic case of a legendary band that peaked about halfway into their career timeline and spent the rest gradually deflating like a flan in a cupboard, but will continue to win Grammy’s and headline international festivals out of respect for the past. Let’s see what there is left to work with right now: a pornstachioed lead singer whose only nod to modernity is performing in leggings made out of screen-grabbed iChat conversations, an accusation of giving one of the most inauthentic Super Bowl performances of all time (Black Eyed Peas have played the Superbowl), a forthcoming studio album to be produced by Danger Mouse instead of Rick Rubin? That might be quite good actually. But do we really need to see it live, again, topless and groomed like Rammstein dragged through a charity shop backwards? I don’t reckon.

Kanye West

Yes, controversial, but bear with this. Up until 2013, Yeezy and his dynamic stage presence was one of the strongest acts bookers could hope to secure for their bill. But 1 zillion headlining slots later, the shine’s worn off to the point where the reaction to his Glasto slot was essentially one big shrug emoji. Yes, hearing 50,000 people scream "Power" is a special experience, but suffering through another 20 minute tantrum about racism in the fashion industry because no one liked his Derelicte collection? Not so much. Kanye's tour might still be one of the greatest travelling live events there is, but his UK festival form is worse than the weather. Never again is an exaggeration, but, Kanye, this is an intervention - no more headlining until you check your privilege. And while you’re at it, give us the HQ version of "Wolves". Thnx.

Coldplay's new single "Adventure of a Lifetime" just got an strange new video starring the London foursome as a band of primates banging out the song in a beautiful tropical locale. Apparently they've been cooking up the clip ever Chris Martin's chance airborne meeting with King Kong motion capture guy Andy Serkis. Serkis's company Imaginarium helped concoct the clip along with animation team Mathematic and director Mat Whitecross.

The coming album A Head Full of Dreams is said to be Coldplay's last, but they refuse to make it a somber occasion; snippets and advanced info suggest a vibrant dance party starring everyone from Blue Ivy Carter to President Barack Obama. A Head Full of Dreams is out December 4 worldwide on Parlophone/Atlantic Records. Watch "Adventure of a Lifetime" below.

Nothing sucks worse than pouring yourself into getting to know someone you're crazy about only to have them treat you like math homework, and Chicago rapper/singer Tink dedicated a song to a shitty lover on her latest release Winter's Diary 3 in "Medicine," where she kicks dude to the curb with a special message about how she won't be answering his messages anymore. We're proud to present the video, which features Tink blasting the boy over the phone while getting fly for a photo shoot. Toast that special one who let you get away and watch "Medicine" below.

Often dismissed as a relic of the pre-digital age or an easy Christmas present for grandparents who don’t know how to use iTunes, compact discs are the most maligned of the music formats.

Despite this it seems that stores like Sanity and JB HiFi sell enough So Fresh compilations and Adele albums to stay in business. But to who? I hit up Sanity in Perth’s Midland Gate Shopping Centre to ask people why they still buy CDs in 2015.

Trevor and Blake frequent outlets like Sanity as well as independent record stores. 

Noisey: Hey guys, talk me through the CDs you’re looking at.
Trevor: Jackie Onassis and Horrorshow. 

Do you often buy CDs?
Trevor: I’m working on a collection. I’ve got about nineteen at the minute. Three Seth Sentry albums, the Fundamentals albums, Horrorshow, I've got two from Jackie Onassis. I bought their Pristine Alley album the day it was released. 

Why not download?
Trevor: I do, but I prefer hard copy, and I reckon it sounds better on the stereo as well. 

Is there a future for CDs?
Trevor: I reckon there is. There are a lot of people out there that are into buying CDs, it’s not as popular but people who do it, they love it. 

Natasha bought One Direction’s Made in the A.M.  She’s team Louis.

So Natasha, do you have all One Direction’s CDs?
I don’t have Take Me Home, but I have all the others.

Do you download music too?
Yeah, the only CDs I really buy are One Direction.

So this is a pure act of fandom.
Yeah, it’s nice to own them. I think just for the look.

Cathy couldn’t find the CD she was searching for.

What are you looking for?
Chris Isaak for my mother-in-law. She’s just discovered him all of a sudden because she watches that music thing on TV?

The X Factor?
Yeah that’s the one. Weirdly she’d never heard of him before, even though he’s been going for like twenty or thirty years. 

Do you buy CDs yourself?
I do, yes. I love Muse. I love LunchMoney Lewis, and all the rappers. I like everybody actually! I like Sia. I do download songs from Google Play. 

Do you think CDs will still be around in ten years?
No, unfortunately. It’s sad. I miss the old LPs and the cassettes. I loved taping records onto cassettes and listening to them. But you can’t listen to tapes on anything anymore. 

Good luck. Maybe try K-Mart?
Nah, K-Mart have jack all.

Gallop and Ryan play in a local band together. They were buying Slayer albums. 

So you guys are into Slayer?
Gallop: We are, even though it’s nothing like what we do. We’re called The Arcadian, and are kind of progressive hardcore. It’s a good mixture of heavy and melodic.

What’s the metal selection like here?
Gallop: Not too bad, a lot of soft stuff that isn’t really our cup of tea, like Escape the Fate, My Chem, shit like that. But we’re old school rockers.
Ryan: The music selection here got better about a year ago, it used to be fucking god-awful. Now they’ve got lots of good stuff, you’ve got Motley Crue, that’s cool, Slash, that’s cool, Iron Maiden, stoked about that. Slayer, System. 
Gallop: Oh man, look, they’ve got Tool now!

Do you guys always buy CDs?
Gallop: I used to, I still do when I have the cash, but I’ve been really broke. I shouldn’t really be looking at this section right now, there’s so many albums I want to buy. But yeah, I’ve got a massive CD collection. I often go to JB Hi Fi and buy heaps.

Do you download as well?
Ryan: I don’t even have a computer. I haven’t downloaded in over a year. 
Gallop: If I download it, and I like it, then I’ll still buy it. Oh man, look they’ve got Frenzal Rhomb here. No way!
Ryan: The drummer in our band, and I used to buy three albums every Friday and just have drinks and listen to them. We just got completely sloshed and listened to music every Friday for a couple of years. So I’ve got a stack of them now, hundreds and hundreds of CDs.

Tom, who did not wish to be photographed, was perusing the country section.

What are you looking to buy today?
I’ve been listening to a lot of country lately. I’m looking for Townes Van Zandt, but it doesn’t look like they have anything by him. I’ve only heard one or two of his songs, but I really liked them. 

Do you often buy CDs?
Yeah, sometimes CDs and sometimes I download. It's nice to own something physical. Also I tend to buy compilation CDs, instead of spending hours downloading heaps of different things, it’s just way easier. 

Are CDs on the way out? 
Well, the Baby Boomers are going to be alive for the next 30 years. So, I don’t see them stopping buying CDs anytime soon. And there’s always hipsters, they like buying something real, don’t they?

Sue, 57, bought Triple J’s 40 Years of Music compilation. She is a regular customer at Sanity.

Do you buy many CDs?
Yeah, I’ve got about 300 CDs at home.

That’s so many!
That’s right, sometimes I’ve got to check before I go to the shop, in case I double up. Sometimes I’ll buy a compilation CD and realise I’ve already got most of the songs. 

Do they update their stock pretty regularly here?
They do. I was here last week, and a few new ones are in since then.

Ever download music?
I haven’t done that yet. I really like coming into these shops, it’s a shame there aren’t many of them left anymore. A few years ago, you used to have heaps of them in the shopping centres, but now you’re battling to find them. I used to spend a lot of time in England and they had massive CD stores, you’d get lost in them. But that’s phased out now. 

Speaking to people today about how much fun they’re having here, it’s kind of making me sad.
It is. I suppose it’s old school, shopping for music like this, but it gets you out of the house, doesn’t it? 

Club Weld is the house band of ASPECT; Autism Spectrum Australia. The idea behind the project is giving people on the Autism spectrum the opportunity to work with professional musicians and learn to make music as a team. Together they have been creating some fantastic instrumental jams that sit somewhere between kraut and dub.

As part of this project, ASPECT have collaborated with ICE (Information and Cultural Exchange) and spun Club Weld off into a new performance project called Maximum Headroom. Maximum Headroom teams up the Club Weld band with video artists Alexander Smith and Heath Franco, who have between them have won a bunch of different awards and worked with artists as diverse as Iggy Pop and Coldplay.

For this track "Anthony's Bad Biscuits", the first from the Maximum Headroom project, Smith and Franco have used a variety of 80s analog video equipment to create a suitably no wave, psych infused video clip. Imagine Sonic Youth made a Winamp visualiser and you're getting there.

Club Weld's EP will be available in early December. For more information visit the ICE website. 

Confirmed rap friends Kendrick Lamar and J. Cole have been threatening to release a project together for some time now, but as each enters his own colossal gravity in the hip-hop mainstream, the prospect seems less and less likely. Still, the duo sneakily dropped a pair of remixes of one another's songs for Black Friday, with Cole laying down a freestyle over Kendrick's To Pimp a Butterfly centerpiece "Alright" and Kendrick biting a hole out of 2014 Forest Hills Drive's "A Tale of Two Citiez." Because hip-hop is a contact sport, even amongst friends, let's talk about who won.
 

J. Cole - "Black Friday (Alright Remix)"

Rundown: North Carolina rap phenom J. Cole's forthright, unpolished persona and relatable songwriting transformed him from scrappy Jay Z protege to A-list artist and cultural spokesman in three albums' time, and he gives a spirited performance over Pharrell's busy, jazzy "Alright" production. The beat demands blood, though, and it's already crushed a respectable lyricist or two. Jermaine's attack is melodic and boisterous, haughty and earnest at the same time. But as per usual, turn fire Cole up long enough and he drops a silly line or two, and you're not allowed to trip up over "Alright." Good effort nevertheless.

Best lines: "The flow sick as shit, catch ebola if you bit this shit," "No promethazine, I'm a king, no leaning / I got a better way to fight these demons"

Worst lines: "Do a nigga dirty like some clothes, my nigga / Get you cleaned up, then I fold you, nigga," "A nigga getting cream like a old ass Laker," "Got suicidal doors, I just slit my wrist"

Score: 4 Wet Dreamz out of 5

Kendrick Lamar - "Black Friday (A Tale of Two Citiez Remix)"

Rundown: Confirmed Noisey Artist of the Year Kendrick Lamar is practically God's gift to the game. Listening to him rhyme is like watching Luke Skywalker whip around the Death Star in an X-Wing, death defying turns leading to breathtaking victory. His assault on the dizzying network of interlocking rhythms provided by New York producer Vinylz for Cole's 2014 Forest Hills Drive cut "A Tale of Two Citiez" is no different. He cycles through no less than five flows throughout, and you just have to hang back slackjawed and astounded at the technical ecstasy of a master at work.

Best lines: "I'm rollin deep in that paper like two Adeles," "I'm yelling 'Mr. Kanye West for president!' / He'll probably let me get some head inside the residence."

Worst lines: Ha.

Score: 5 Money Trees out of 5

Craig is mildly curious about this February Kendrick and Cole collab rumor percolating on the interwebs today. Follow him on Twitter.

All photos by Bruno Detombes

We’re told to line up early for Grimes, like pre-doors, line-down-the-block in the unforgiving Montreal cold early, because even though we have tickets, the venue is subject to capacity, and there's no guarantee we’ll get in. The show, Grimes’ first in her hometown since releasing her fourth LP Art Angels earlier this month, has been sold out for weeks.

We get into the Metropolis with enough time to overhear opener Nicole Dollanganger wrapping her set, and to see other fans running down the street to the venue; minutes later, those too slow are stuck craning over the shoulders of crossed-arm security guards, arguing in vain to be let in. Inside, the bar and coat check are all but abandoned as the packed crowd on the floor mushrooms over into the aisles, heads tilted up towards the stage in anticipation as classical music pipes in over the PAs. 

We hear Grimes before we see her. The lights cut out, and two Dayglo-painted dancers emerge to tease their star’s arrival as “Laughing and not being normal” begins. A flood of magenta light rises with her falsetto, and Grimes appears, her lanky frame exaggerated by a flared skirt, high braid, and clunky footwear. She hops up to her gear, kicking off the bass clicks of “Circumambient,” and runs back down to the front of the audience to sing, cutting a larger-than-life silhouette in the neon glow behind her. For a moment, it’s impossible to distinguish between the synths and the shrieking crowd.

“[Montreal] is where I learned how to make music,” Grimes shouts, eliciting more screams. She thanks the M for Montreal festival, host of this headlining show, noting that the ten-year-old event showcased some of her earliest gigs. It was this very community—the fans before her, the festival, the buregeoning electronic scene, and the broader local art scene—that helped send an unknown DIY musician and college dropout named Claire Boucher out into the world. She returned home a Juno winner, chart topper, fashion icon, and pop star. For those who were there, the night of Nov. 21 wasn't a concert but a victory lap, a celebration greater than the sum of its parts.

But Grimes' ascendancy doesn't always elicit the kind of unconditional love she enjoyed inside the Metropolis. Around town, in the days leading up to the set, I overheard as many, if not more, scoffs and dismissive takes about her “going pop,” selling out, and abandoning her roots as I did expressions of eager anticipation and pride.

That’s nothing new. The road from 2012's breakthrough Visions to Art Angels was paved with social media feuds, fan rejection, sexism, scrapped albums, and grating self-doubt, all in the name of her refusal to compromise. Grimes’ live set proves she has emerged better for the wear.

In a move increasingly rare for rising artists of any genre, her souped-up stage show is less about spectacle and production value than intent. The set design is minimal, but no detail of the performance is without purpose, reminiscent of the kind of meticulousness favored by the likes of Kate Bush and Björk. The choreography served as an extension of each song, with dancers wielding props that ranged from rhythmic gymnastic ribbons to daggers. Rave strobes, lasers, and Turrell-esque washes of light elevated hypnagogic tunes like “Go” and Art Angels banger “Scream” to new levels of surreal, with Grimes pulling double duty on the latter by filling in on Taiwanese rapper Aristophanes’ verses.

As for the music itself, older tracks were reworked to fit the sound and context of her new material: “Oblivion,” for example, featured a stilted, bating intro, while a remixed (or “spruced up,” as she put it) “Be a Body” added warmer synth lines and delays.

Boucher’s trademark nervous energy and shy candor is still there—after accidentally setting off a song early, she unleashed a flurry of epithets, and later asked the crowd if she could skip the song and dance of the encore “for my own mental health.”  But she ultimately, and deliberately, refuses to concede to being either a performer or a musician, frenetically running back and forth between her equipment to program songs and the front of the stage to dance, scream, sing, and head-bang.

“So, what do you think?” a friend asks during “Realiti.” The conversation inevitably lands on Grimes’ pop immersion. We talk for a moment about whether we think her new material is actually good, or just rooted in novelty. I admit that many of the new songs are still growing on me. There’s more I could say—that the bass was too loud, that her back-and-forth between the stage and gear was distracting, that the camouflage netting and sparse stage set up felt awkward. But as I watch Grimes fall to her knees and howl, throwing her braid like a mace as dancers stomp around her, I realize it doesn’t matter whether I “like” Grimes’ latest iteration. Qualifying what was happening in front of me as “good” or “bad” felt lacking, because it misses the point.

More than a happy homecoming, the show was a celebration of a pop artist unrepentant about reclaiming complete creative control over every component of her work. Grimes, along with the likes of Adele, Carly Rae Jepsen, FKA Twigs, and other soup-to-nuts, shirtsleeve-rolling creatives, make a strong case for the end of pop as a dirty word, a pejorative synonymous with assembly-line hit-makers and the superficial. And we, as the ones ultimately determining what is popular, do ourselves a disservice when we perpetuate that association—the idea that to be #flawless and to be authentic are mutually exclusive. Instead of dismissing Grimes for going pop, it’s artists like her who just might help reclaim the genre from its disingenuous connotations.

Back on stage, the dancers multiply. Fellow Montreal musicians are invited up to join in the fun. The crowd dances along beneath the strobes. Grimes looks out at the writhing expanse of bodies and screams a final, glorious “Holy fuck!” before launching into fan favorite “Kill V. Maim.” From the back of venue, the whole thing feels like a weird, post-apocalyptic rave from the future, a set that could feel equally at home at Levitation, Electric Daisy Carnival, Coachella, or some intergalactic throw-down—because it all feels like her. This is Grimes’ party. Get into it, or GTFO.

Andrea Domanick wants to go, wants to go with yooouuuu on Twitter.

To celebrate his new album Royalty going on preorder this weekend, Chris Brown opened up the vaults to release 34 whole songs that didn't make the cut for the record in the form of a free album-before-the-album called Before the Party featuring guest appearances from Rihanna, Pusha T, James Fauntleroy, Wiz Khalifa, French Montana, Fetty Wap, Wale, and more. These aren't leftovers or scraps exactly, either. They're quite accomplished. Song after state-of-the-art song, Before the Party makes you wonder what did make the album, if this is all the stuff that didn't. Brown notes that a dollar of all Royalty sales go to The Children's Miracle Network. Good to see the kid trying to do some good for once. Stream and download Before the Party below, and preorder Royalty here.

Noisey Radio on Apple Music's Beats 1 Radio rolls into episode 22 this Thanksgiving weekend with a show opening mix featuring the latest from indie pop maestro Beirut, enigmatic electronic music producer Arca, who just released the excellent Mutant, grime vet Dizzee Rascal, singer Lianne La Havas, and Missouri math rockers Boys' Life, who recently reunited to tour in support of a new Topshelf Records reissue of their 1996 calling card Departures and Landfalls.

We'll also speak with rising D.C. rapper Chaz French in advance of the release of his upcoming project These Things Take Time. Chaz will play us new material off the release and fill us in on his busy year. Afterward, we chat with filmmaker and musician Rick Alverson about his acclaimed film Entertainment and band Spokane, who logged a string of respectable releases on Jagjaguwar in the 2000s. Check out the tracklist for Noisey Radio episode 22 below.

Mix

Arca - "Snakes"
Boys’ Life - "Friends for That"
Dizzee Rascal - Jezebel
Beirut - No No No 
Lianne La Havas - Green and Gold 

Chaz French

Chaz French - "Remember"
Chaz French - "IDK" **World Premiere**
Chaz French - "Ready (feat. GoldLink) **World Premiere**
Chaz French - "No Shade (feat. Wale)"

Rick Alverson and the Music of Entertainment

Bill Fay - "Camille" (From Music from The Comedy, A Film by Rick Alverson)
Spokane - "By the Bend"
Devora Clemmons - "Animals in the Zoo" (From Music from Entertainment, A Film by Rick Alverson)
Entertainment Choir - "Ave Maria (Daughter of My Dreams)" (From Music from Entertainment, A Film by Rick Alverson)

R&B Lothario Trey Songz is celebrating his 31st birthday today, and this year instead of receiving gifts, he gave one: a new mixtape hosted by DJ Drama called To Whom It May Concern, featuring production by Mano, Rico Love, Cook Classic, and more. Songz also posted a special letter of appreciation for his fans for sticking with him through six albums of ups and downs. "My love for what I do has given me a life I could have never dreamed of," he writes. "I appreciate every hug, every hello, every show, every goodbye." Stream To Whom It May Concern and read Trey's letter (courtesy of Billboard) below.

Moon King performs at M for Montreal. All photos by Bruno Destombes

Grimes' headlining set at this year's edition of M for Montreal heralded many things, but at this year's decennial, her return to the festival that helped launch her career also cemented M's role as a bonafide international tastemaker.

While the focus is on Montreal-based musicians, the lineup culled from artists across Canada, France, and the US, all of whom were never a friend or shared bandmate removed from each other. This year's lineup was full of more top notch rising acts than I could possibly fit in this write-up, and despite attending more than 30 sets in my time there, there were still more I had wanted to see. Montreal: You're doing it right. Check out some of our hightlights from the festival that make us stoked about music in 2016. 

Wasiu

Jazz Cartier and Wasiu

On the second floor of Montreal’s storied Cafe Cleopatre strip club, the drinks were flowing, and all eyes were on the raised platform at the center of the room. But rather than buxom dancers—the ladies were downstairs for the evening—it was a slate of some of Canada’s finest rising hip-hop acts eliciting cheers from the crowd.  

It was the kind of lineup with enough raw talent to potentially make for fan lore in a few years time: The night kicked off with Regina's Queen City Stoopkids, a tight-knit, rambunctious crew whose ratchet beats and precocious lyrics can't help put suck you in. Our old pals and batshit Montreal punk rap mainstays the Dead Obies headlined, and despite telling me their set was “ok” and “awkward—it was a showcase,” left their crowd looking somewhere between exhilarated and shellshocked on the way out. 

MTLien and Kaytranada collaborator Wasiu held it down for his hometown with sinister production and apocalyptic bangers like "This Ain't Toronto," reminding us that Montreal's hip-hop and piu piu beat scenes don't stand in Toronto's shadow, but are forces unto themselves as they blossom amidst the city's evolving cultural landscape.

Jazz Cartier

But the star of the night was Toronto’s Jazz Cartier. Judging by the size and hype of the crowd, it was probably one of the last times anyone will be lucky enough to see him in a venue that small. He showcased a mix of new material and tracks from April’s breakout mixtape Marauding in Paradise, with the crowd rhyming along to new numbers like “Stick and Move” as well as unreleased songs that had us Googling in vain for another listen when we got back to the hotel. Between his knuckle-cracking production and raw attack on the mic, Jazz's set made a strong case for him as one of the most charismatic and versatile voices in hip-hop. No fewer than three bottles of water were thrown onto the crowd as he massaged an awkward room of industry folks into his own personal mosh-pit. “When this beat drops, you guys actually have to lose your fuckin’ minds,” he instructed. By the end, he was commanding each side to throw their hands up and “Wooo!” with a swoop of his arm like some kind of hip-hop Fantasia. Drake and the Weeknd were put on notice: “In Toronto, every single day there’s a new rapper. We need a new favorite for hip-hop in general in Canada," Jazz said. Consider the gauntlet thrown.

Dilly Dally

Doldrums and co.

It’s been a minute since we’ve checked in with Noisey Meets alum and sometime-Grimes collaborator Doldrums, the solo project of Montreal producer Airick Woodhead. He headlined arguably the best showcase of the festival’s first night at the Piccolo Rialto, along with four other acts we highly recommend checking out: the lo-fi swagger of Calvin Love, the always-awesome Dilly Dally, retro deconstructionists and Majical Cloudz proteges She-Devils (EP due out January 16 via Bandcamp), and the experimental dance splendor of Fucked Up collaborators Doomsquad (LP Total Time out April 29 on Bella Union).

We're happy to report that Doldrums is still making terrific, noisy electronic music, and that he did, in fact, make us dance. So much so that when he announced he was playing his final song, the crowd reacted with such dismay that he kept playing until the venue had to start shutting down. Rumor has it that Woodhead might be taking a break from the project, but glass half full, we’re just as excited for what, and whom, he’ll be working with next.

Moon King

Speaking of whom, Woodhead’s brother and former Spiral Beach bandmate Daniel Benjamin knocked us out as one half of Toronto’s Moon King. The duo, completed by singer/guitarist Maddy Wilde, deliver earnest, old-school showmanship to compound their earnest, electronic-inflected indie rock. Even the downtempo tunes from their April debut Secret Life are invigorating. They hit the drowsy 1 AM crowd at Casa Popolo with a wall of bright lights and big harmonies, and no one looked back. Keep an eye out for them on tour.

Kroy

Montreal’s Milk & Bone have gone from relative unknowns playing a mid-day set at last year’s festival to one of the best attended, most anticipated nighttime shows at this year’s edition. We can only predict, and hope, the same goes for bandmember Camille Poliquin, who also performed this year under solo moniker Kroy. Helming a simple synth set, Poliquin has the kind of arresting voice that can make an afternoon performance to a stiff crowd at a small bar feel instead like you’ve been let in on her most intimate, vulnerable confessions; that, for a moment, you're acutally sharing something. She released her debut EP Birthday in 2014 and has her first first full-length in the works.

Nancy Pants

You can, and should, check out self-described “dirty pop” trio Nancy Pants’ debut LP Total Nancy Pants, because you can stream the whole shebang on Bandcamp. But above all, see these guys live if you get the chance. The Montreal transplants have only been together for about a year, but their respective backgrounds in the music industry have laid the groundwork for the kind of energy and dynamism that inspire a reflexive smile, with frontwoman Ohara Hale delivering the kind of controlled ferocity that leaves you no option but to pay attention. Stay tuned for their announcement of spring/summer international tour dates and a new release.

Charlotte Cardin

Twenty-year-old Charlotte Cardin may have first made a name for herself as a model, but you'll come to remember this Montreal singer for her smokey jazz vocals and unblushing, provocative songwriting in both English and French.  She's hasn't recorded much original material yet—she favors covers—but keep an eye out for her debut EP this fall.
 

Photo via Partisan Records, remaining photos courtesy of Dilly Dally

Back in 2009, Toronto high schoolers Katie Monks and Liz Ball formed Dilly Dally. While the band has been making music for several years, they just released their debut Sore—an album that fuses depression with romance, noise punk and anger, producing a kind of melancholic beauty. Dilly Dally has been driven by friendship, anger, love and loss—something that Monks and Ball have put together alongside Jimmy Tonny and Benjamin Reinhartz in one beautiful mess of a first record.

From pussy wallets (you’ll just need to see the photo below) to kicks on fleek, Katie and Liz know how to look fly on the road. Below, the ladies of Dilly Dally dished about what items help them feel fashionable and at home, on the road.

Pussy Wallet

Katie: So you can buy snacks & stuff at the convenient store, and then hit up some strip clubs after the show.

Nail Kit

Katie: So you can rip on guitar easier, it's good to keep your nails in check.

Liz: Manicure set for trimming nails, of the hand kind and feet kind. Necessary for shredding, fingering and having a sexy time in general.

Ear Plugs

Katie: For all band members except Katie, cause she is insane.

Liz: Earplugs with different levels of  hearing protection available, on stage and off stage. Super fashionable after use, natural wax will build up giving your plugs their own unique waxy gloss to which lint and miscellaneous items can attach themselves to.

Throat Coat Tea

Katie: So you can scream and growl like a tiger forever. This stuff has bark in it. I dunno...somehow it helps.

Cold FX

Katie: Sleeping on floors and partying and stuff means you might get sick. Take this shit and you never will! It's got ginseng or whatever.

Globes

Katie: Ha-ha. You gotta stay on your shoe game. Nice and cozy <3

Something something turkey. Something something Black Friday sales. Something something Cyber Monday. Something something “my diet starts tomorrow.” That’s all I’m hearing now. Anyway, lots of artists gave thanks this week on Instagram, and I found the most endearing. And by endearing I mean odd. Check them out.

Wiz Khalifa is such a non-conformist that he ate hot dogs on Thanksgiving. Now hipsters everywhere are going to demand that their families (or their “Framilies” in Williamsburg and Portland) have holiday barbecues going forward.

Forget lil Miley’s schemin’ ass in the corner, this is all about her dad’s mega-mullet. ALL ABOUT IT. I also love how he’s looking into the camera like, “I’m here with my family at Thanksgiving dinner, but my heart is still achy breaky for YOU.”

2 Chainz is pushing that dabbing Santa sweater pretty heavily, right? WTF is dabbing anyway?

Please explain to me what “Thanksgiving food” is, because I’m sure we all eat turkey (unless you’re vegetarian) other days out of the year. Is it the stuffing? The cranberry sauce? The yams? Like be more specific Keef, and sidebar is Martha fucking Stewart came to your house to cook, you better eat her meal. She did time in the big house too. Respect her gangsta.

Here you are hanging out like a loser at Wal-Mart waiting for a Patti Pie, and Questlove got the real thing from the actual woman. We’re all losing out to him.

The bird looks good, but those slash marks on the side make me feel like Freddy Krueger or Wolverine came through to check and see if it was cooked all the way through. Maybe it was just Rae Sremmurd though.

Drake and his mom texted through a #sports game like fuck this Thanksgiving holiday, we’re Canadian anyway.

This Thanksgiving, French Montana is especially thankful for his really close friends: Diplo…and…Skrillex?

50 Cent can’t escape his trolling, even on Thanksgiving, so he posts a cute ass pic of his child, yet crops out his baby’s mom.

Okay so Tyler, the Creator spent his Thanksgiving hanging out with his dad, Seal. Sidebar why does he look like he’s at an album signing at Tower Records circa 2001?

Lindsay Lohan and her terrifying Bitmoji hope you enjoyed your turkey.

There are two artists in this picture (Kanye and Tyga, in case you were wondering), so this qualifies as #music in my book. I love how during the holidays the Kardashian-Jenners always manage to post this happy-go-lucky photos like everything is just peachy. Meanwhile, WHERE IS ROB?

Biebs is like fuck Thanksgiving because #Canada, so I’m going to post a layout of my coffee and my book on a wooden table and pray that Elle Décor reposts it.

Here’s a little secret about me: tiny suits fucking terrify me. Sorry Leeshy.

Now Migos have a turkey dabbing? What’s dabbing again?

Kathy Iandoli wants to learn how to dab NOW. Follow her on Twitter/Instagram.

My Morning Jacket played Manhattan's Beacon Theatre last night and broke out a cover of the Eagles of Death Metal's "I Love You All the Time" in a gesture of solidarity with the band, whose show at Paris's Le Bataclan was brutally attacked by terrorists in a siege that shocked the world. "I Love You All the Time" is a wistful, lovelorn stomper from the Eagles of Death Metal's 2015 album Zipper Down with verses alternating between English and French. "The music must always go on, and fear must never win," MMJ singer-guitarist Jim James told Rolling Stone in a candid conversation about the Paris attacks. Watch the band's cover of "I Love You All the Time" below.

Image: Jake Lewis

As summer music festival season approaches we can look forward to sunburn, overpriced beer, controversial attire and uncomfortable bedding in cheap tents. But there's one big downside to a music festival, that's almost impossible to avoid. When nature calls, everyone has to poop. That’s a lot of everyone. That’s a lot of poop.

Thankfully there are beautiful men and woman at festivals who are there to make sure that when you're two pingers deep and feel that rumble, you've got a safe (and relatively clean) place to go. Whether it's pissing rain or scorching hot, bush doof or metal fest, these heroes have your back (and your bowels).

We had a chat with Luke Roberts, one of these brave soldiers that install and maintain the toilets at various music festivals.

Image: Jim Noort

Noisey: How many toilets do you guys maintain at a festival?
Luke Roberts: I'm a site worker and I’m often charged with particular tasks to take ownership on a job. Four years ago at Stereosonic there was a bit of chaos on the bump-in of the portaloos. Every year since it's been my key role to supervise the installation and operation of Stereo's sanitation needs. Although the years blur, there were a couple of festivals where the crowd was in excess of 45,000. I think we had over 550 portaloos spread over the site. Numbers are a little more modest these days but catering to crowds in the tens of thousands still needs truckloads of dunnies.

Every event is different. Camping festivals are a whole other beast. Multi-day events. Composting toilets. Mass pump out and fresh water requirements. Five days in the mud at Splendour might be different to three days in the dust at Evie but two things are true - shit runs down hill and hopefully if you do a good job your boss will pay you on Friday. In the meantime, suck that shit up.

Image: Joey Kellock

What have you found while cleaning/maintaining them?
Drugs, phones, clothes, shoes, hair dryers, sex toys, fruit, makeup, wigs, glitter. And lots of displaced personal dignity.

Are there any horror stories that stand out?
Mainly the displaced personal dignity that often results in horribly bronzed up toilets. Hose that shit down. One thing I've learnt over the journey is that as far as human functions go, shitting is more urgent than eating.

Which toilets are the cleanest / best for punters?
Mate, whenever the toilet whisperer is on site and the poo crew are backing her up things will be fine. If that fails, try to sneak past a sleeping security guard and get back stage.

Image: Simon Prentice

Ratking is one of New York City's most vibrant underground hip-hop acts, thanks in part to the razor sharp, formalist bars of main rapper Wiki. This weekend Wiki quietly dropped off a new solo song on his Soundcloud called "Hate Is Earned." Produced by Detroit beat maestro Black Milk, "Hate Is Earned" displays WIki's disarming ease with flow and melody in a short blast of that rough, rugged, and raw. The page promises "NEW WIKI COMING SOON," but details on what shape the new project will take are yet to be revealed. In the meantime, stream "Hate Is Earned" below.

Over the course of the past year, A$AP Rocky has been ceaselessly touring the world in support of At.Long.Last.A$AP. Recently, Rocky played a show in Hong Kong as a part of its 2015 Cockenflap festival. At the end of his set, he played a brand new song "Yamborghini High," which based on the song's name seems to be a tribute to the late A$AP Yams. It's a solid tribute, because the song fucking rules. Listen below.

It's been a minute since we've heard new Animal Collective music, but the group is back today to announce their new upcoming record Painting With. To kick off the album announcement, they've released the first single from the record, titled "Floridada." It features the springy, excited music we've all come to know the group for. The record comes out February 19. 

This article originally appeared on Noisey UK.

Remember back in October when we brought you the timeless and classic Noisey article I'm the Guy Who Paints Grime Stars as If They Are Landed Gentry from the 1700s? Well, buckle up reader, because have we got some news for you. The guy who paints grime stars as if they are landed gentry from the 1700s has got himself an exhibition, at the bloody Tate Britain of all places.

Reuben Dangoor turned his idea into an arts series called "Legends of the Scene" and published the images across his website, Twitter, and Instagram. More often than not they became said MC's Twitter profile photo within minutes. There were paintings of Skepta saddled up on a pristine white horse, Union Jack under his arm, surveying his valley like a don; Stormzy resting in his country manor in a two-piece Adidas tracksuit in front of a roaring fire; and more recently, Wiley as a superbike knight of the realm.

The exhibition is part of Late at the Tate, and will take place on Friday December 4 from 6.30 PM to 9.30 PM. These pieces were super popular online and Reuben will be unveiling a brand new unseen portrait, so if you want to get in, go hella early. Reuben will also be selling limited copies the following week, so if you like the idea of copping a painting of D Double E as a celebrated war general then keep an eye on his Twitter.

You can read more about the exhibition here, and find all of Reuben's work here. But for now, just stare into this picture of portrait of Wiley, put your hand over your heart and think of England.