More Than Just a Music Festival: HPX 2015
I’m not being hyperbolic when I say that I think Halifax Pop Explosion is the best music festival in Canada.
Over the years, the festival has meant a hell of a lot to me.
When I was going to a small university about 2 hours outside of Halifax, it was an escape – a way to leave the confines of my small, suffocating college town and let loose for a few nights. A reminder that the world didn’t stop and end in the 5 KM radius that was my small town.
I’d get to the city and queue up for a show and feel a palatable sense of relief,
I took in each show like it might be the last one I’d ever attend, breathing in each set in a desperate attempt to take what I saw and hold it with me over the next 6 months at school.
These days, it’s more of a vacation. I head back to Halifax each year after spending most of my time away and briefly trick myself into thinking this is how it always is: live music everywhere, shows packed to the rafters, all action, no relief.
For my money – shy of a Sappyfest here, or a Lawnya Vawnya there – it’s the most genuinely inspiring, humbling, and straight up fun festival around.
At HPX, you’re never going to see everything, and you’ll probably miss half of at least one of your favourite bands set because you’re fighting a particularly crippling hangover, but no matter what happens at HPX there’s always more to see, more to do, and more to expose yourself too.
Mauno at CKDU, Photo by Andrew Sampson
It’s an intimate festival, in a way that festivals like Osheaga or Coachella simply can’t and never will be. It’s not about taking a bunch of molly in a field and tricking yourself into having feelings (although, sure, you could still do that), because it’s more about being surrounded by a certain type of kinetic energy.
For me, this energy has always been revelatory. Seeing bands from away come to your hometown and bring their blend of unique energy to the stage and seeing bands you could see every other weekend play to the biggest crowds they might ever see is a rush. At HPX, you’re surrounded by people who are DOING THINGS – creating, organizing, planning, running around, doing whatever they can to actually leave a piece of themselves out there.
Go in with few assumptions, an open mind, and leave transformed.
If it doesn’t rub off on you, even just a little bit, you’re probably doing HPX wrong.
This year’s festival was great, but it had one clear highlight for me: a set by Sackville’s Partner.
Partner, Photo by Andrew Sampson
The Lucy Niles and Josée Caron led band has been slowly destroying every venue they play in across Canada, and HPX was no exception.
The band started their set with a call to arms: “We’re Partner and we’re coming to your town.”
And far from it being a question, it was a statement of intent — Partner won’t be denied.
They’re the rare band that isn’t only queer, but delightfully and brazenly so. And beyond their ode to Ellen Page they go deeper, describing crucial aspects of the queer experience in a way that feels refreshing as hell.
The band’s songs play fast and loose, with catchy hooks and stunning guitar play. But the real show-stopper usually occurs at some point during each song, when Josée Caron unleashes a ripping guitar solo. It’s enough to make anyone paying even the least bit attention stand up and pay attention.
Partner hasn’t even released an album yet, but watching one of their sets, it’s clear right away that they’ve arrived fully formed.
Their music is a little like what early 00s pop punk would be like if it was mixed with a reverence for classic rock era guitar solos. But unlike that generation’s insistence on straight white dude figureheads that traded a sense of humour for self righteousness, Partner’s songs are also funny as hell.
In seeing a set like this, I’m reminded of all the nights I go out to see music that leaves me uninspired, or even a little bored.
You do it because there’s always the chance that the show you’re seeing will remind you of why you loved going to shows in the first place.
If you’re lucky, you’ll get to that moment when whatever shit you’re dealing with recedes to the background and all that occupies your mind is what’s happening in front of you
It took an entire music festival for me to get there, but holy hell am I glad that I did.