BACK IN THE MIX
Greene releases debut album
Feel Infinite is only Jacques Greene’s first album, but it’s not due to a lack of effort — the 27-yearold Montreal producer has just been caught up in the world of being a touring DJ.
“Respect to any DJ who travels and does shows every Thursday to Sunday,” Greene said from his old Mile End stomping grounds. “But doing that lends itself to a creative process that’s more single driven, because you’ll be at your home only three days at a time. And of those three days, one would be to do laundry, one would involve a bit of studio time and then the third one you may create something great if you’re lucky. I was living that lifestyle for a while, and it was hard to see the bigger picture.”
Greene, who adopted the pseudonym in honour of the St-Jacques St. and Greene Ave. intersection and whose real name is Philippe Aubin, tried making an album before. It ended up being the three-song Phantom Vibrate EP. It captured his sonic universe: disembodied, indecipherable vocal samples, mostly culled from strangers who post covers on YouTube, over a foundation of warm digital and analog sounds, composed more like traditional songs than long-form beats designed for dance floors.
If Phantom Vibrate was a preview, then Feel Infinite is the full realization of Greene’s imperfectly human perspective on cold, beatdriven machine music. A longtime fan of the album format — which isn’t necessarily the direction many of his peers go in — Greene was finally able to check it off his list thanks to a change in lifestyle. For one thing, he met a girl and settled down in Toronto.
“It’s also a question of saving enough money to spend two months in the studio,” he observed. In the short attention span world of electronic music, a two-month sojourn from the club circuit can diminish your stock value.
“When you start off your career with online mixes and EPs, it’s very easy to stay in that stream with the other fishes. There’s a lot of instant gratification that comes with that because every time I drop a single online I get retweets and promoters get excited, and it’s hard to justify falling off the map to make an album,” he explained.
The money and confidence factors are why Greene believes he and two other prominent, globetrotting producers from Montreal — Kaytranada and Lunice — have
either released their long-awaited debut albums or have them on the way after years of avoiding the format.
Kaytranada’s 2016 Polaris Prize victory for best album may not have directly influenced Greene’s decision to release Feel Infinite, but the win was a big one for Montreal’s renowned electronic scene, which continues to fly under the radar in mainstream music circles.
“I got a call from my grandmother after my Juno nomination,” Greene said with a laugh. Even though Feel Infinite comes out only Friday, the single You Can’t Deny found its way into the mix, nominated as Dance Recording of the Year. “My family is proud of me, but my grandma doesn’t know what Berghain is. It’s reassuring to them to see these little victories.
“The U.K. a long time ago realized that a producer is an artist and that’s what they do, whereas in North America you’ll get a lot more confusion about what a DJ or producer does. So every time something happens like a Kaytranada winning, it’s a victory for everyone.”
Greene also hopes Feel Infinite, made in part with a collection of finicky old synths, will serve as an inviting entry point for those who have never experienced club culture. Last December, following a fire at Oakland-based warehouse venue Ghost Ship, the underworld of unofficial art spaces gained international attention — the same type of spaces where Greene and many Montreal music acts got their start.
“I think Feel Infinite aspires to show a positive, utopian view of club culture,” he said. “I’ve gotten so much out of it. I’ve built so many friendships. I have this emotional relationship with music and the environment in which it’s played, and I think the record is about the honesty of that. Many see the club as escapism, and I understand that, but for me it’s about walking into a party and recognizing faces. The waiter from the café on your street will be there. Every party is made up of faces in your community. That needs to be cherished.”
In his current home of Toronto, a number of music venues have shuttered recently. Montreal has its ebbs and flows, but the official and unofficial spaces where an underage Greene developed his love for dance music a decade ago — Zoobizarre, Torn Curtain, Main Hall and Green Room — are long gone.
“Let’s hope this record isn’t a eulogy or requiem for club culture, and it stays alive and healthy everywhere,” he said. “It’s a love letter to all that, and a message to not take our spaces away. I think in our age of social media, having these spaces where we all get together to share a drink, flirt, dance, joke and get to this honest, real place in real-time is important. Is that connection really going to happen at a cocktail bar?”
Many see the club as escapism, and I understand that, but for me it’s about walking into a party and recognizing faces.