Kuato

In the 1600s, some French colonialists arrived drunk and hungry in Canada, settling in Eastern Canada in parts of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, PEI and Quebec. But these hell raising, hard drinking settlers had absolutely no interest in being a part of straight-laced, boring ass New France — they wanted their own little slice of paradise. Wasting no time, they named it Acadia, and then they set about doing what they did best – hunting, fishing, and throwing some wild parties. Eventually though, the British government decided they couldn’t have these fiddle loving booze-hounds being a giant pain in the ass and acting as a barrier to their colonial goals.

So, in true douchebag fashion, they seized the land and deported those who hadn’t died of disease, alcohol poisoning or gangrenous musket wounds. Only a handful were able to stay in Canada, the rest were deported to Louisiana, giving rise to the Cajun culture and setting the stage for shitty things like Zydeco music and awesome things like gumbo. Needless to say, you’d have a bit of a chip on your shoulder about the whole thing, and it doesn’t help that today the Acadian identity, especially in the arts, is pretty much just the butt of terrible jokes about accents and salted fish. However, despite a pretty raw go of things in the past, Acadian culture is enduring; a stubborn and surprisingly good-natured beast that's fiercely protective of its heritage.

Nowhere is this more obvious than in the longstanding Acadian musical traditions of rum and whiskey soaked kitchen parties. Nights of non-stop drinking and fiddling, raucous singing and banging on everything from wash tubs to wooden spoons to the damn kitchen table itself. It’s become a caricature of sorts, a kind of cartoonish distillation of the Acadian identity. However, some people, like Josh Pothier, the drummer of Nova Scotian instrumental post-rock band Kuato, and a born and bred Acadian, think that that caricature might be hurting the culture more than it’s helping.

“There has long been this weird line between artists who are Acadian, and “Acadian artists”, and a view by many in the Acadian community that if you’re not playing a certain way or not performing in French or whatever, that you’re ignoring your culture,” says Pothier.

“We’re taught very early on that our culture is in danger of disappearing and that we need to preserve it by maintaining certain customs and traditions, but to me you only preserve something that has died, and Acadian culture is a global thing now - it’s evolving, not dead.”
Pothier grew up in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, a seaside town on the southern tip of Nova Scotia in an area that’s still fiercely Acadian, so he’s had his share of salt cod, rapure pie and never-ending fiddle parties. Pothier is pretty determined to help redefine how people view the Acadians, and that’s a huge part of what makes up Kuato’s debut LP, The Great Upheaval. It's a concept record of sorts, touching on the massive deportation of the Acadians, and the album is a giant sprawling canvas of drones, piercing guitar riffs and huge, sweeping melodies that seems miles away from the raucous foot-stomping, hollering and fiddling of traditional Acadian music. However, just like the hazy, hungover morning after a kitchen party, if you think carefully and retrace your steps from last night, it all starts to make sense.

“I was reading a book at the time called Heroes of the Acadian Resistance and it was about a lot of the back and forth guerrilla warfare that went on prior to the deportation, and one of the main subjects of the book (Pierre Surette) is a direct ancestor of mine, and he was involved in a lot of rebellious stuff which I found really interesting,” says Pothier.

“I brought the idea up to [guitarist] Adam [Toth] about using the conflict and expulsion as a sort of thematic basis for the music, and he was quite supportive.” Pothier and Toth formed Kuato as an ambient/drone two-piece after they met working at an Italian restaurant in downtown Halifax, where the band’s now based. Bonding over a shared taste in music and cooking wine, they would trade bands back and forth like witty retorts while working.

“I seem to remember him giving me Do Make Say Think records and me giving him Godspeed records and we would just talk music all day in the kitchen and tip each other off to stuff we were into that month,” he says. Over three EPs and some lineup shifts, the band finally settled into its current incarnation with the addition of members Darryl Smith, Mike D’Eon and Stephen MacDonald.

Growing up being bombarded with Acadian music and culture at school, Pothier admits it was only a matter of time before it all started to seep into Kuato’s music. “It was part of our school mandates to bring in Acadian entertainment my entire school life, so I would be exposed to it often,” says Pothier.

“I was never really into the high-energy, kitchen party types of songs, but I definitely have a deep love for two particular Acadian songs — one is a very sad traditional song called “Partons la Mer est Belle” and the other is “Saulnierville Station” by Les Tymeux d’la Baie. Throw those on your summer mixtape and let your parties get weird.”

That dark and somber part of Acadian culture is very rarely unfurled for others to see. The Acadians usually prefer to keep it light, refusing to dwell any more on a particularly bloody past. The up-tempo fiddle jams, rye and waters and rollicking good times are a kind of defense mechanism. But the understated, hushed beauty of those traditional songs and that part of the past are easily tied back to the tangled emotional threads of the band’s latest release.

The mournful and evocative track "Groundwork" is blanketed with hesitation and anxiety as thick as the ever-looming charcoal grey Acadian fog, while "Battle of Blood Creek" is frenetic with white hot anger and confusion. Maybe it’s because that haunting past is so hard to face, or maybe it’s because people would just rather say “Fuck it,” and go for a pint, but Kuato’s songs shed a light on the difficult history of the Acadians that’s rarely given a voice in music.

“I like to think that when events like that happen in a place that it permeates in the air and the soil and that it sort of leaves an imprint on everything that comes afterwards, and that this music is part of that imprint now,” says Pothier about the sentiments of the album.

Pothier is very proud of his Acadian roots and how it’s recently come to inspire a new cultural conversation, referencing contemporary Acadian artists like Radio Radio, or JonahMeltWave who he thinks are both actively engaging with the past and expressing their culture in new and unique ways. But he’s definitely aware of that cultural stubbornness - that “Fuck off, we’re doing just fine here,” grip that the Acadian community has on their traditions.

“The people who operate within the Acadian cultural sector have very strict and traditional ideas of what is and isn’t art, and that is a discouraging environment for someone with a lot of creativity. Thankfully I feel that things are changing finally,” he says. Pothier doesn’t see this record or its concept turning many heads or inspiring any kind of movement in those stubbornly traditional circles of Acadian culture though, and to be frank he really doesn’t give a shit that it won’t.

“I think if you’re going to like or not like a record based on the concept rather than the actual music you’re listening wrong,” he says. “Acadian art has always been tied into the folkloric and I would love to see it break away from that and begin to really find its place into the global artistic consciousness. I get that it’s important, and that some people feel a much deeper connection with it than modern music, but I’m not going to fake an interest in something just to adhere to some unspoken cultural rule -to me, the insincerity of it would be worse. if I’m looking at a CD deck with 9 traditional Acadian music compilations and Shallow North Dakota’s This Apparatus Must Be Earthed tucked in the middle, I’m going to pick Shallow North Dakota every time. But that doesn’t make me “less” Acadian, it just makes me an Acadian who likes to sludge out more often than most,” he says.

Kuato is touring in support of their album right now, and may even be kind enough to cook you some rapure pie – ask for clam, it’s a wild-card and people will give you a weird look, but it’s the best. - Noisey

Although they've released a smattering of small releases over on their Bandcamp page from as far back as 2010, Halifax-based post-rock unit Kuato have yet to deliver a formal LP. That is until now, as the band are ready to issue their first-ever full-length via Atlantic indie rock tastemakers Acadian Embassy.

The Great Upheaval won't see its physical release until June 24. While you wait, dig into the band's debut full-length on Exclaim.ca.

Although seemingly inspired by the kind of swelling guitars and cascading reverb usually associated with the UK music scene, according to a press release, the album's title and song names actually refer to "the 18th century expulsion of the Acadians from Nova Scotia" by British forces. As you can guess, the record sounds pretty freaking epic.

Recorded by acclaimed East Coast producer Diego Medina (Jon McKiel, Dusted) at the Old Confidence Lodge in Riverport, NS, the album easily evokes the tumultuous times for which it is named after through the use of seaworthy strums ("Red Sand"), ravenous riffs ("Battle of Bloody Creek") and doom-tinged tracks (the album's titular closer), which are anchored in place through the band's sparkling guitars and underlying Maritime melodies. - Exclaim!

Le premier album du groupe post rock Kuato tire son inspiration d’un événement historique qui n’est plus chanté par la nouvelle vague d’artistes acadiens: la déportation de 1755.
« Dans les écoles de la Nouvelle-Écosse, l’histoire acadienne est enseignée de manière très factuelle, explique Josh Pothier, batteur du groupe. Après avoir lu le livre Acadian Resistance, j’ai pris conscience pour la première fois du facteur humain de cet événement historique. »
Kuato est un groupe instrumental qui mise sur l’intensité de ses paysages sonores sur The Great Upheaval, leur premier album complet. C’est avec une nouvelle compréhension – plus violente – de l’histoire de ses ancêtres que Josh a proposé au groupe d’utiliser ces repères de l’histoire acadienne.
« Nous nommions nos chansons de manière aléatoire. Quand j’ai amené cette idée conceptuelle aux gars, ils ont embarqué. Ce fut un défi, car il fallait relier un événement historique aux états d’âme des chansons, et raconter une histoire, tout en s’assurant que les titres aient un sens pour quiconque écoute le disque par hasard. »
En plus de faire bande à part avec ses inspirations, à des années lumières du folklore acadien de la province, Kuato ressort du lot dans la région avec ses envolées sonores et ses constructions vaporeuses et urgentes. Selon Josh, cette denrée n’est pas aussi rarissime que l’on pense, au pays de Joel Plaskett.
« Tu sais, il y a plein de groupes qui appartiennent à la même famille musicale que nous, comme les vétérans Instruments ou Force Fields de Fredericton. »
D’ailleurs, Kuato part sur la route en août avec Zaum, un duo expérimental de Moncton, qui partage le même esthétisme ténébreux, lourd dans sa portée.
« Les groupes californiens que j’écoute ont tous une sonorité qui évoque leur environnement. C’est pareil ici. La Nouvelle-Écosse est un endroit sombre qui s’agence bien à notre son. Nos paysages sont brumeux. »
Kuato travaille à trois guitares sur The Great Upheaval, un concours de circonstances plutôt qu’un choix selon Josh. Si le groupe a connu de nombreux changements de personnel, il mise aujourd’hui sur une formation stable, dont le lieu de naissance remonte à une cuisine de la région d’Halifax.
« Je travaillais là avec Adam (guitariste). Nous écoutions les mêmes musiques durant nos quarts de travail, comme du Godspeed (sic) ou Explosions in the Sky. Adam a fini par m’inviter à une soirée open mic où il jouait. Je m’attendais à voir un songwriter typique, mais finalement il créait de gigantesques paysages sonores avec plein de pédales et une guitare électrique. »
Josh travaille aujourd’hui à Toronto, au sein d’une boîte de gérance artistique. Selon lui, malgré la distance, les changements de personnel et les défis de la création instrumentale, la sortie de ce premier album est un accomplissement digne de mention.
« Nous allons faire quelques dates en Ontario et dans le reste de l’Est canadien en août, après quoi, je retourne à Toronto. J’aimerais voir cet album percer le marché européen, qui est une grande niche indépendante pour notre genre de musique. »
The Great Upheaval, dans les bacs le 24 juin via Acadian Embassy, sur vinyle, CD et en numérique. Lancement le 26 juin au Old Confidence Lodge, à Riverport, en Nouvelle-Écosse. En tournée canadienne avec Zaum du 2 au 23 août. - BRBR

Instrumental rock bands remain a scarce commodity, but Maritime quintet Kuato show that, in the right hands, this form can be a potent one. Their intricate, majestic and darkly atmospheric sound was explored on earlier digital EPs, and it now fully blooms on full-length debut The Great Upheaval. The title is based on the 18th century expulsion of the Acadians from Nova Scotia, but a great thing about lyric-less music is that you can create your own narrative. Reference points for Kuato's post-rock sound include Mono, Godspeed, and Mogwai. Potent stuff. The album is released on double 12″ vinyl, compact disc, and in a digital format. - New Canadian Music

How many ‘holy fack!’ moments can you fit on one record?! Before I start gushing about the thing, let’s get up to speed on a little bit of the background. Hailing from Halifax, Nova Scotia, the five-piece instrumental act known as Kuato (named, I assume, after Total Recall’s Marshall Bell-borne revolutionary) was founded in 2010. Made up of no fewer than three guitarists (Adam Toth, Mike D’Eon, and Darryl Smith) and one hell of a rhythm section (bassist Stephen MacDonald and drummer Josh Pothier), Kuato delivered this, their debut full-length album, on June 23rd of this year.

Inspired by the Great Expulsion of the Acadian French from Nova Scotia in 1755 (one third of their number lost their lives during the expulsion), Kuato have crafted one damn fine, loose instrumental concept record. The Great Upheaval begins innocently enough with the short and serene “New Home,” which immediately shows off the gorgeous guitar tones that are layered together to create an epically moving tapestry. Using surf-rock tones and just the right amount of reverb, the band manage to convey both sadness and serenity insanely well. The second track, “Groundwork,” picks up right after with a slow and very calming introduction. The melody here is subtly powerful and, although it is wonderful in its own right, is but a small indication of what epic moments this record has in store. Distorted shoegaze guitars are complimented by soothing/haunting ambient guitar hooks and extremely proficient and energetic drumming. “Groundwork,” like so many other tracks on the record, builds to a triumphant climax of oddly beautiful noise.

It is hard to pick standouts on an album where everything sounds so uniformly spectacular. The motif and textures offered up in the next tune, “Red Sand,” are a perfect example of why Kuato is one of the finest instrumentalist acts this writer has ever heard. After building up for half the track’s length, the band shifts dynamically into a brilliantly airy bridge section that feels so damn much it’s frightening. The hooks are deceptively simple and lead right back into yet another thrilling climax.

Perhaps my favourite tune on the album is the artfully crafted “Black Horizon.” Not only is it the longest track on the record, “Black Horizon” is nothing short of a masterpiece. Of note is the simple, pulsing bassline that carries the earlier part of the track. It eventually graduates into a great rolling melody, but the pulse is a unique approach that lends itself insanely well to what the rest of the band have laid down. This tune is so magnificently powerful, one gets the feeling that everyone is pouring their guts out while playing. As if the obvious stuff isn’t amazing enough, just crank this mother and listen to all the little stuff in the background. My goodness.

The next bit sees the band shifting into a darker gear. “Ripped from the Soil” is a twangy, sludgy, and downright eerie piece of music. The best part is at 4:05 when the song loses its business and a tumultuous build-up leads into an Alice In Chains-style jam. This leads into an even quieter, even more haunting twang, with piano totally just selling the epic that oozes from the track. The relatively short by comparison “Battle of Bloody Creek” is a very punky bit of triumph that also gives off a tragic vibe, conveying beautifully both despair and the drive to overcome it.

And that brings us to the album’s coda: the title track. An eargasmic bit of slow-burning awesome, “The Great Upheaval,” includes goosebumps-inducing background effects and an unforgettable synthesizer cameo. The track’s chugging, pulse-pounding, edge-of-your-seat climax features a subtle synth appearance for the ages that leads the album to a sudden, unexpected close, and leaves you wanting more, more, more, m– okay, I’ll listen to it another thirty times.

I’m not going to beat around the bush here, Kuato’s The Great Upheaval is one of those brilliant, visionary works of audio art that is experienced rather than simply heard. There are so many moments on the record that are so intense you just have to sit back and, well, ‘holy fack!’ The Great Upheaval is well-crafted noise that is so stunningly close to perfect, it should most definitely be a benchmark in its genre. Bravo, gentlemen. - Replicant Ears