littlecity.

style, music & soul in a little city called montreal.

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i hadn’t planned on writing anything about my trip to worldpride last weekend, intending to let the photos speak for themselves (read: i am lazy). but about halfway through the dyke march, i knew i wanted to put the experience into words, already conjuring up the right ones to describe the weekend. magic, however mushy and sentimental, came up more than once, and not just from me (the queen of wordly mush and sentiment). the dyke march was particularly special — throngs of smiling people taking photos, cheering, and throwing confetti, and that was just the spectators. the march itself was thousands strong, and everyone was dancing, singing, cheering, sweating, hugging, sweating, more sweating. i could have burst with pride, not just for my friends, but for everyone, and that emotion was echoed in every single person. there was a lot of love in toronto last weekend.

image (1)we made regular stops at the 519 green space at church and wellesley, where on saturday, francesca lombardo got down for four solid hours of deep house. sunday, though, is the day that sticks out in memory: after dragging myself around town for the entire morning in what felt like satan’s asshole, we were praying for rain. i mean, i offered up my entire family and first born child as a sacrifice to the rain gods, it was that hot. finally, it started to drizzle. then out of nowhere, it was a torrential downpour but the crowd loved it and the energy was high. eventually, a freaking RAINBOW burst out across the sky. guys, a RAINBOW. it was a very special moment. everyone cheered. some cried. and just when we thought it couldn’t get any better, out stepped shangela and alyssa edwards to perform it’s raining men under umbrellas and ponchos, and i swear it was so perfect that there’s no way it could be real. if that’s not magic, i don’t know what is.

worldpride 2014 review / in photos i hadn’t planned on writing anything about my trip to worldpride last weekend, intending to let the photos speak for themselves (read: i am lazy).

music monday / tinashe

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i read a feature about singer/songwriter tinashe kachingwe in dazed the other week. she’s a self made girl — started from the bottom, or whatever that horrendous expression is that drake did not make up but that people attribute to him — and the article talks a lot about her roots, and her rise to fame. when she made that hard as nails video for “boss” from her debut mixtape in case we die, she,…

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the quitter / review

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“where did everybody get donuts?” i wonder aloud to the other loner flying solo at al lafrance’s one-man show, the quitter. the guy doesn’t hear me, or pretends not to. it’s quiet save for the sam cooke track playing in the small show room at montreal’s improv theatre. i sit down, watching everyone around me chew their honey cruellers and boston cremes. “could go for an old fashioned plain about…

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featuring / klangscheiben

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“claing-sh-eye-bin. clang-sch-high-ben,” i stumble over the words, trying to tell a friend the name of the german record label i’ve been writing for. behind me, i can hear thomas baz, the label’s founder, laughing. “was that wrong?” i venture another attempt at the pronunciation, “klang-schybbin!” not even close. i met thomas last summer at toronto’s sound in motion festival. we became fast…

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em15 mutek x elektra 2014 / review

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standing immediately in front of the stage at metropolis on friday night, the bass was so loud that you could feel it in your bones, your head, your heart. and yet, behind me, a girl and her buddy are in the middle of a conversation about what show they saw last night, speaking loudly enough so as to be heard over the music. i shush them, pointedly, asking that they take it elsewhere. although…

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