Laughing

***The North Star is synonymous with a great song for Montreal rock n’rollers Laughing. Its intrigue is set light-years from Earth’s foggy surface, floating graciously, a moving target. Made up of four perspectives on that glimmering goal, Laughing’s songs resonate with formative experiences from across the so-called Canadian territory— the coastal freewheeling sunshine of the West, the pragmatic self sufficient planes of Manitoba, the heart and head of the shield, and oggy notions from the icy drip of the Maritimes. Somewhere in there lies an explanation as to their pressing need to practice relentlessly and play almost bi-weekly at local dives. Tucked away in the atmosphere, surrounding that holy grail of perfect pop interstellar craft, are constellations that vaguely resemble LX Chilton cracking a beer with Chris Stamey and Neil Young studying chord charts with Tom Petty. It’s a solar system in which pop chops and deep soul are codependent poles. A song is one thing, and believe me, they have an overflowing sack! On earth though, personality still holds the weight. Would every 60s kid in a transatlantic range not have pined for starting a garage band if the Fab Four hadn’t lit their bulbs? And how else could you explain the Higneys, the R. Stevies, Bill Fay, or even the Ramones? Laughing aren’t haggard or fried, nor are they cookie cut or engineered. This is a band in the easiest sense. 4 people with songs and the ability to lend brain power to each other’s ideas and see them through. Plain-clothed, unassuming, starry-eyed supernovas (to further confuse the metaphor). Laughing are a troupe of charismatic crack ups, ever so slightly shifting the tragicomic mask until you can no longer tell if the corners of their lips point up or down. They are willing to traverse that turbulent zone of pit in your stomach vulnerability, those gut feelings which animate us. Think of them like a gang of Icarus’ flying too close to the sun in order to melt their wax wings down to press records.