Weary’s debut music video for “Bruise”, the first single off their debut album Feeling Things (2017), was produced as part of the Nickel Independent Film Festival Music Video Incubator Project. Under the mentorship of Lian Morrison, frontwoman and first time filmmaker Kate Lahey co-directed the video.

Exploring the connections between personal trauma and resource extraction, healing and land relations, this video archives the messy entanglement of personal and political harm. Relations to land, self and movement are sites of healing as the video takes the viewer for a walk along the rugged terrain of Newfoundland’s treacherous cliffside. “Bruise” reminds us that tenderness can be an act of resistance.

I know that playing music, and navigating the music industry, is something that is still quite new to you, so I am curious about how you also felt as a first time filmmaker. What was this experience like for you? Were there any challenges or barriers that surprised you?

I feel really fortunate to have had a really similar experience. Because this was part of the Nickel Independent Film Festival Music Video Incubator, I worked under the mentorship of Lian Morrison, who is a really smart, easy going filmmaker here in St. John’s. Lian was really encouraging of experimentation, doing things your own way, not needing a bunch of gear to make cool stuff, trying different things and just having fun and finding inspiration in your own vision. From shooting to editing and all the little tricks in between, I feel like I got a really incredible crash course. I think because I’m a lifelong student – I just thrive in learning environments. I love learning from other people, I love seeing folks who are really passionate about and good at their work. I love working with people who are so excited to share that passion and inspiration with others, who don’t hoard their knowledge or let their ego get in the way or uphold exclusivity hierarchies. I’m really grateful to have Lian as that person for me with this video, and I’ve been really grateful to have women like Joanna Barker as my mentor and support in music.

Through knowing you, and all your work, it’s hard for me to imagine that everything isn’t always thoughtful and intentional. Can you share with me your relationship to the colour orange and why it seems to reveal itself in all things Weary?

Orange became a really important colour to me throughout the making of “Feeling Things”. I was navigating grief and loss, but also healing and my sense of belonging to home, Newfoundland. When you spend time on this land, you see orange everywhere: ties signalling property lines, oil rigs and buoys, etc. For me, orange came to demarcate sites of construction, extraction, and sometimes emergency. I felt a huge connection between the emotional wounds of trauma and the wounds this land sustains from colonialism and environmental exploitation/extraction. I felt that orange signalled the weird paradox of trauma feeling both hypervisible and completely invisible.

And while I felt kinship and shared experience with the land in this way, orange also taught me that healing and hurting are really complicated, messy entangled processes. Orange also reminded me of the fishing flies and bobbers I used trouting with my grandfather as a kid, the orange vest my nan wore in a picture of her hunting, or the ties that signal paths and trap lines. So the relationship between me, my memories, land and trauma are also all tied up in healing, family, survival and resilience.

Could you elaborate more on the importance of walking alongside Newfoundlands treacherous cliffside for this video, this song, and your feelings behind writing it?

For the same reasons, it was really important for me to braid together myself, orange and this land in a slow and meditative way. Walking is a really important part of my nan’s life that was passed to my mom and to me. Berry picking along trails is a really special practice for me. Being with the ocean is a really special practice for me. I feel small and connected to the bigger picture of my life, my family and the universe. Feeling small and connected is a comforting, healing way for me. Walking in the wilderness makes me feel grounded and rooted and connected and safe. I wanted the video to feel slow and big and quiet and meditative. I wanted to capture the prayer of walking with your memories, your ancestors and your wounds.

I want to comment on how deep this messy entanglement between personal and political is and how well you illustrate this through lyrics that do not offer any distinction between the two. I’m thinking a lot about healing and resilience, especially with the song title “Bruise”, and how this looks both personally and politically for you. Do you feel like there is a deep entanglement here, too?

Absolutely! I think I like to intentionally sort of just make things for myself that make sense for me and resonate with my experiences. Healing and resilience are the crux of the album — “Bruise” was the first single because I feel like it really speaks to anger and hurt, but also to resilience and survival. For me, both personally and politically, healing and resilience has been really messy and confusing. It’s been non-linear and complicated and about a whole lot more than me. The title of the album is also meant to speak to the abundance of feelings that course through and the paradoxical oscillations of anger and rage, numbness and isolation, joy and resistance, relief and security that might rise and fall. This was also a way of holding and validating all these contradictory moods and reactions for myself and for others. I tried to be empathetic.

In the final moments of the video, you gaze at your audience as you sing the lyrics “you don’t seem to see me”. What is the lasting impact or impression that you are trying to leave?

I think for me this lyric and this shot are again tied into the paradoxical duality of hypervisibility and invisibility of trauma. For me this was a political call, but also a personal act of resistance. Sort of a way to challenge ideas of viewership and access, and to confront the audience with my own power and gaze. There was something important about denying the audience my face throughout the video, about controlling that dynamic and claiming ownership. Keeping things vague and messy, like my connection to orange and land, is a way for me to control what ideas, feelings, memories, and relationships I get to keep sacred and private. It’s also a way to allow others to just feel that affective vibe of a slow walk along the ocean, without projecting all of my own experiences onto it so heavy handedly, I think it lets others’ bring what they need to that process. I like open ended, human lines like “I don’t want to love you anymore”. I think there’s just a lot of room there, I want that space to be an invitation. “You don’t seem to see me” is also a way of saying “I see you”.

Bruise Still 3

Photo by Kate Lahey and Lian Morrison

See Weary live:

April 27th – bloom fest w/ Property @ Thunder & Lightning, Sackville, NB.

April 28th – FLOURISH Festival @ The Capital Complex, Fredericton, NB.

May 1st – w/ Property @ Menz and Mollyz, Halifax, NS.

May 3rd – East Coast Music Awards, Charlottetown, PEI.

Contribution by Nikki A Basset and Kate Lahey


Sometimes isolation and social withdrawal isn’t conducive to healing from our cumulated hardships. Building up communities that share pain, frustrations, and disappointments is an act of reslience.

The latest release from Lo Siento, Brujas (translation: witches), is a narrative of finding strength and solidarity through femme friendship during times of distress. Based in St. John’s, Newfoundland, Lo Siento is Pepa Chan (guitar/vocals), Andrea Mcguire (bass/backing vocals), Allison Graves (drums), and newest member Jake Nicoll (keys/synth).

lo siento 2

Lo Siento: Pepa Chan, Allison Graves, Andrea McGuire
Photo by Knoah Bender

Brujas delivers the same spanish naive punk as their first release, Bingo Bango, but with the addition of pop melodies from Nicoll on keys and synth.

While Brujas delivers a sound that is light, enthusiastic, and cheerful, a deeper look into Chan’s lyrics will reveal that Lo Siento is a very political project that isn’t afraid to talk about all the hard things with all their complexities. Her voice, scrappy yet sweet, sings to us about coping, grieving, and resisting.

Brujas offers consistency. Together, Chan, McGuire, Graves, and Nicoll have developed song-writing that is cohesive and specific to Lo Siento. A standout track, for me, would be Despierta-aahhh, a song about struggling with insomnia (“si me acuesto me desvelo” translation: if I go to bed I wake up). The guitar walk-down that is punctuated by three snare hits really mirrors the way that restlessness can feel.

I think it’s okay to name that Lo Siento is an outlet, and a place of refuge, for when everything you are living is becoming too tough to manage alone.

See Lo Siento live:

March 15th – Brujas release w/ Pillowcount, Black Market Hard-Tack, and Hay Carbon! @ Peter Easton Pub, St. Johns, NFLD.

March 16th – Brujas release @ Fred’s Records, St. John’s, NFLD.

April 13th – Kazoo! Fest, Guelph, ON.

April 15th – w/ Property @ Burdock, Toronto, ON.

April 17th – w/ Property @ TBD, Kitchener, ON.

April 19th – w/ Property @ Black Squirrel Books, Ottawa, ON.

April 20th – Presented by Out of Earshot w/ Property @ La Plante, Montreal, QC.

Contribution by: Nikki A Basset


Veneer (WPG) is the vulnerable pop project of friends Talula Schlegel (guitar, saxophone, vocals), Sam Sarty (bass, casio, trombone, vocals), and Claire Bones (drums, vocals).


Photo by Chelsea Neufeld

Talula and Sam have been playing, making, and performing music together over the last decade – even posting covers on YouTube that they filmed in their neighbourhood bushes. When they met Claire, their friendship and musical partnership became a triad, and in the summer of 2017, Veneer was formed.

I can attest that their love, caring, and reciprocating friendship translates into their live performance. In bearing witness to their set, you are offered a window into the ways they support and prop each other up to experiment, play, and explore: a truly magical experience.

Since their formation, they have been busy gaining attention and winning over the hearts of anyone who has a chance to see and hear them. In the last year, their first single, Unsure, was premiered by Stylus Magazine, they toured Western Canada, and did a live set at CJSW in Calgary.

Today, I am honoured to present Veneer’s first music video for Don’t Get My Hair Wet created by Allegra Chiarella (director) and Jesse de Rocquigny (cinematography).

The video perfectly compliments the audio as both starting points are tender, slow, and unassuming. When it builds musically in volume and intensity, it builds visually through the use of choreography, colour, and sparkle.

Don’t Get My Hair Wet is about consent – a topic that Veneer takes seriously, but doesn’t hold to one rigid standard:

“we wanted to write a song that reinforced the necessity of consent being taken seriously in any way it’s presented and which challenges and eliminates any notion of how consent is “supposed to be” delivered”.

Their intent through this song, and video, is to breach the topic of consent in a way that is accessible and to acknowledge that consent isn’t always given explicitly or sternly – however you assert your boundaries is valid and should be respected.

The opening of the song is reflexive and serious as you can see in their outfits, their expressions, and their actions, but playfulness quickly starts to build. They consistently introduce more colour and choreography until the canon (“even if you wanted to / please don’t get my hair wet”) which leads you to a staircase where they, now sparkly, are urgently climbing to get to a rooftop in downtown Winnipeg.

On this rooftop, they are dancing completely free and safe in their own bodies. When the song drops, you are left with their shadows playing against the building behind them – a closing as tender as its opening.

Veneer is a band worth watching – they might even be releasing their first EP in early 2019 😉

Contribution by: Nikki A Basset


While working at a juice bar together in Halifax, Kirsten Todd (guitar/vocals) and Michelle Moraitis (lead vocals/harmonica) bonded over their love for shoegaze, the diy-ness of the riot grrrl movement, and their lived experiences of misogyny in their music community. At first, singing out their frustrations while chopping fruit was just their emotional outlet, but this inevitably planted the seed for the all-femme band, Juice Girls.

band photo

Michelle Moraitis, Kirsten Todd, Kelsey Crewson, Lauren Randles, Robin Fraser
Photo by Scott Randles

They rejected gate-keeping in their music community and encouraged each other to learn, create, and take up space. After playing as a two-piece for a while, they later invited femmes, Lauren Randles (keyboard), Kelsey Crewson (bass), and Robin Fraser (drums), who shared their frustrations to nurture and water this baby seedling with them.

Their first full length album, Juice Girls, is a shoe-gazy, slacker-pop, dreamscape. Each song creates a sort of uncertainty with it’s direction through the way they play with tempo, dynamics, space, and emotion. Like the tides, the drum parts pull you in and push you back. This album lulls you – it can pass you by, blurry and unaware. The jangly guitar, harmonica melodies, and delicate vocals offer listeners the opportunity to be introspective, yet it would be a shame to miss what they are saying.

Michelle and Kirsten’s songwriting is poetic and tender while playful and empowering – the imagery they create is both vague and dream-like while vivid and relatable. In ghoul gal, fish eye, and my baby, you’re offered stories about cute, maybe frightening, and potentially heroic creatures. milk me tall and castor soap are love songs for femmes while grapefruit is about disappointing boy-crushes. blueberry, watermelon, and when she comes offer insight into appreciating the duality of things, anxiety, and pivotal spaces that can be both difficult and exciting. They use gentle, affirming, and welcoming language in their songwriting to describe these mundane, idealistic, and even magical themes.

Juice Girls is a product of sweetness, femme resilience, and ripened friendship. While their tenderness is their greatest strength, they aren’t waiting for an invite into spaces dominated by men – they are taking up the space that they need.

Contribution by: Nikki A Basset


Someone once admitted to me that they identify as an intersectional feminist in their tinder profile just to get more dates; an acute example of a bad dude who’s using feminist language but is all for show (swipe left).

BBQT’s new EP, ALL FOR SHOW, is a sweet and salty treat about bad dates and being disappointed by a crush. These high-tempo minute-long tracks will satisfy all your garage-pop cravings (swipe right).

These BB CUTIES, now based in Montreal, met at a BBQ (well, of course) and quickly became great pals and supportive bandmates; each of them contributing some of their own spicy charm to the songwriting process. If you had the pleasure of looking deep into their online message threads, you would find lyrical content that has creeped into every BBQT song.

Despite only writing music for three years, Amery (vocals/guitar) delivers six well-crafted pop songs with silly, but relatable, lyrics. Allison (drums), in distinct BBQT fashion, keeps you swaying with her double snare hits across the entire EP. Jack (guitar/backup vocals) is responsible for most of the sun-kissed lead guitar that gives ALL FOR SHOW its power-pop inspired sound. And finally, Mike (bass/backup vocals), brings much more than just his sweet boyish demeanor; his driving bass lines bring each punchy track to the next.

Forget your crush and let ALL FOR SHOW be the summer soundtrack to your sunny afternoons drinking radlers in the park with all your best pals.

Fav track: FORGETTING SARAH MARSHALL. In thirty seconds you are blasted with the lyric that named the EP, noodley back-and-forth lead guitar, and a solo walk-down bass line that is punctuated by an effective single cymbal hit.


BBQT’s: Allison Graves, Mike McDonald, Amery Sandford, Jack Bielli
Photo by: Tricia Robinson

Catch BBQT on their ALL FOR SHOW June 2018 Tour:

June 13th – with Property and Fog Lake @ Brasserie Beaubien, Montreal, QC

June 15th – w/ Dusk, Tough Age, and Peach Kelli Pop, @ The Clocktower Parking Lot Ottawa Explosion Music Festival, Ottawa, ON

June 16th – w/ Rareflower, Mountain Laurel, and Goodbye Stephanie @ King Edward Hall (All Ages Show) presented by Sweaty Palms, Edmonton, AB

June 17th – w/ Vi’s Guys (Canmore) @ The Canmore Legion, Canmore, AB

June 20th – w/ Dark Time, Le Plaisir, and Michael Rault @ Ship and Anchor, Calgary, AB

June 21st – w/ SBDC, BIRDO, and The Allovers @ The Palomino, Calgary, AB