White Gallery

He begins to walk. It's autumn outside and there's a crisp wind, fluttering broadsheet pages and visible emissions from idle cars. There is no destination. There never is. He's a transplant alone in a city of millions.
Passing gaggles of girls filing into cabs, he begins to feel solitary.

He presses into a bar and loses himself in the white noise. Eventually he's awoken by a cavalier twenty- something who begins to sing. He listens to the voice. It begins in a heavy, low register and grows. He approaches the man and they swap numbers.

The random happenstance isn't bullshit; it's how Joel Eel and Ahmad Bilal first met. They followed up with a late night hang out where a shared a desire to create shadowy, cinematic music was realized. That evening they wrote Twisted Summer; a song that combined Eel's preexisting riffs, his production skills, Bilal's evocative voice and the singer's haunting melodies. Sensing they could create something tangible, the two began to rehearse in East Williamsburg.

Today, Eel and Bilal are crafting songs that possess an audible bleakness veering on eerie. While they never discussed how their music would be played, it's evident that they're best suited as a duo- a 'form' determined by their writing process, and their visceral connection to what they create.

Happenstance led to White Gallery: a duo writing 'surf-noir' music that features ghostly guitar lines, sparse drums and layered vocals that frame the spectrum of Bilal's voice. Their name speaks to a blankness, and is given context by allegorical lyrics that articulate emotional depletion and a longing for meaning. Readying an EP and preparing to play live, White Gallery hopes its offerings will strike a chord in listeners. And in a city full of strangers searching for meaning and connectivity, you can't discount music's ability to connect people. Coincidence or not, White Gallery has already proven this.

- Ben Pobjoy Montreal, QC February 2012