Luge, Not a Band, Tago Mago

Toronto’s cult-veteran quartet Luge weave danceability through their ceaseless maelstrom of genre denial. Each member brings their own taste and timbre to the table where ‘what-if’ chops song structure into a malleable goop still wriggling with ear-worming riffs. Their adolescent blend of curiosity and cheek holds true in the band’s seventh year, still driving them to dive into unmapped sonic territory, leaving no inspiration untapped and with the chops to pull it off. Their sound knows no bounds, fearing only a co-worker uttering the unholy, ‘what kind of music do you play?’

Stu Mein’s drumming and Cameron Fraser’s bassing are the broth that binds Luge’s infinite spice-blend, locking into gridded topography throwing heavy, complex grooves straight at your head. Tobias Hart’s fizzing guitar freaks over the dance virus in a treble-drenched click-matrix that occasionally breaks into lucidity only long enough to bring you the riffs you need and the lines to lead. Finally, in this chaos, Kaiva Gotham arrives just in time to tame those discordant rhythms that threaten to doppler into nothing. Gotham brings hooks that rip flesh. Her voice and synth both hold the key to Luge’s puzzle box, pray she allows you a glimpse of its answer. Glimpse it loud if you can. Bate your breath for their Fall tour set to tumble down the West Coast and salivate at the prospect of their fifth studio release, I Love it Here, I Live Here.