Sound In Motion

Sound In Motion from You Are My Symphonic on Vimeo.

I've realized that my weekends have been following a two-day pattern involving exploration & creation.  

On a Saturday in July, I found my toes covered by the sands of the Sugar Beach party for the first annual Sound In Motion independent electronic music festival.  The city’s EDM community was yearning for a small crack to emerge in the concrete jungle of Toronto.  What they got was an enormous leap forward for the city.  

I felt a surge of ideas flowing through me as forceful & timed as the percussive elements that soundtracked the sun-soaked afternoon.  The intense inner-rises brought reminders of MUTEK’s edition of Piknic Electronik where I would stare back across the water to Montreal, realizing it was an emerald city.  Diving back into those same feelings with my close friends Davy, Dani & V gave that added touch.  Leaving the beach, we laid down at the top of the grassy knoll that overlooked the neon city with it’s millions of voices & stories.

Creation followed on Sunday with Davy & I raiding the film archives, finding visual pieces to patch together to accompany the new You Are My Symphonic live show.  The summer has been in full motion with rewarding musical expression.  The fall season feels strong with the promise of live shows and more.  It's an exciting time to be moving.

Dani & V surprised me with a unique billboard of cupcakes entitled “You Are My Symphonic” which we picked apart one by one.  Dani gave insight into the weekend saying that all the moments were random, but somehow, they fit together.  She said that as I recalled playing the Toronto Pan Am Games piano at Sugar Beach, outside the Sound In Motion festival, painted in the her country’s colours, the Dominican Republic.  

It's Happening Again (Sutton Sunset)

I remember thinking all through the week about how good it would be to get out of the city and to let the winding country roads be the guide. We spent a sun-filled day with smiling friends on the deck and time quietly flew past us in the fluttering trees above. My friend, Stewart, was at the wheel when he suddenly got excited to cross the top of the hill and to find the surreal sunset view waiting for us. I stuck my hand out the window into the rushing wind and felt the resonance from the orange glow being translated through the gentle pressure residing in my third eye.

My daily focus from the week, manifested itself into real moments, making my day with my friends an incredibly simple & powerful collection of scenes. I was propelled from my body by this sunset and I didn't return until very late into the night. We laughed about how easy and simple it was to reach that feeling. All we had to do was smile, laugh & drive.

Best,

Vish

(You Are My Symphonic)

AZ-CO-Communikey

View Driving directions to Phoenix, AZ, United States in a larger map

It was nearly a year ago, at a chance encounter in the ticket line for MUTEK in Montreal, when Vas & I met Kate & Laura and first heard about the Communikey Festival of Electronic Arts. The festival stickers they gave us revealed the opening date as April 25th, 2012. That, being my 30th birthday, planted a seed within me that has grown while leading up to this classic milestone that is usually mired in expectations of a constant slowing.

Not in this case. Momentum has been building with the most natural of flows, raising the symbolism of this journey to the saturation point. We will be dropped into the Arizona desert where our travels will carve a path through the red rocks of Sedona, Monument valley and their lush relatives who live in the dense landscapes of Colorado. The alternating nature of the swelter & the chills, the barren & the flourishing are both jarring and refreshing.

From April 25th to April 29th the "MicroTopias" of the Communikey Interdisciplinary Arts Festival will become our home. In another organic evolution, The Tea Arbor afternoon at which You Are My Symphonic will perform has been moved to the Naropa University venue, a place where the teachings of East and West truly meet.

There is something to say about the apparent alignment of this journey and it's newfound focus.

The Very Best,

Vish

(You Are My Symphonic)

Curious Montreal Releases "Exposant C: You Are My Symphonic"

It's not often that you cross paths with a collective that is equally focused on their own disciplines as they are united by their desire for collaborative creation. It was my immense pleasure to spend an entire Saturday with this rhythmic team who love stretching their curiosity muscles (Read The Earlier Post Here).

It's with surprising speed that the "Exposant C: You Are My Symphonic" by Curious Montreal is released.

Absolutely brilliant work by this talented collective. Beautiful Photo direction by Anthony Lapoire, flowing editing by Maxime Charron, visionary production by Isabella Gennaro & an eloquent forward by Ariane Perpignani.

Warmest thanks to my dear friends David, Ryan & Vasanth for being there on the rooftop and in the park. Familiar places were turned into something completely new.

The spring bloom continues.

Best,

Vish

(You Are My Symphonic)

You Are My Symphonic Performing at Communikey Festival

It's with great pleasure that I'm announcing that You Are My Symphonic will be performing at the Communikey Interdisciplinary Arts Festival in Boulder, Colorado. I will perform alongside several artists at "The Tea Arbor" event in the afternoon of Saturday, April 28th at the Boulder Museum of Contemporary Art (BMoCA). The event info and the complete website for this refreshing and motivating festival are available at the following link:

You Are My Symphonic at The Tea Arbor (CMKY Festival 2012)

The journey will begin for my good friend Vas & I in Arizona where we will explore the red desert and progress through the mountains & valleys of Colorado, towards Boulder & CMKY.

Best,

Vish

(You Are My Symphonic)

Communikey (CMKY) is a Boulder-based interdisciplinary organization dedicated to social, cultural and ecological innovation through creative process. We facilitate forward thinking cultural experiences that emphasize the intersection of sound, design and technology in artistic forms. Communikey forges a creative exchange across cultures, backgrounds, and mediums while fostering the development of the local arts community.

Curious Montreal Exposes You Are My Symphonic

The morning opened with an icy fog that obscured my view to no more than a half-block. The dampness carried a blast of fresh air and carried my walk to meet the creative team behind CURIOUS Montreal who selected You Are My Symphonic to be the subject of their ongoing "Exposant C" video series.

It was an absolutely gorgeous day that morphed into a sun-kissed Saturday as we moved from setting to setting, capturing moments in familiar places to the music of You Are My Symphonic, that will forever be re-invented in my memory. It was a great honour to take part in this day with CURIOUS Montreal, David, Ryan & Vas, who were so kind and enthusiastic to make appearances in the video - much love. The release of this video won't be until June, but it'll be worth the wait. Until then, enjoy exploring the new discoveries that CURIOUS Montreal has to offer.

Best,

Vish

(You Are My Symphonic)

CURIOUS Montreal (http://www.curiousmontreal.com/) gathers, promotes and propels the talent of emerging artists and designers of all fields, through a web platform and events. Artists are invited to collaborate and create unique pieces that match their talent through creative projects. CURIOUS Montreal wants to break down barriers and create a community where different talents of artists and designers can share their own knowledge based on their expertise and expand their network.

Springtime Blog Warmth

The first few warm breaths of spring have found their way into the streets and parks of Montreal. Helping to shake off the cobwebs and to usher in the season of growth are these two wonderful blog posts:

Teepoo (Tiana Feng) is the curator of the "Ride The Tempo" blog who has a created an extensive musical database which loves to support Canadian artists. Her support is what the Canadian music scene is yearning for. "Rooftop" has made her listening section of the site, check it out here. Many thanks Tiana.

"Rooftop" at Ride The Tempo

Stories of discover are the one's you often tell and re-tell to your friends or generally to anybody who will hear it. I have a few I like to tell, including when I first heard Dreamsploitation's "Death to the Chuck I Hate" on the radio. It was a surprising and extremely gratifying moment when I stumbled across Josh from Techcredible's post about his first funny encounter hearing You Are My Symphonic on the radio and trying to catch the lyrics of I Found Your Faces of Montreal to power his google search later in an effort to find it. He recaps the storied loss of the first version of IFYFOM which is a good reminder to always move forward to create and co-create. Check it out here. Many thanks Josh.

IFYFOM at Techredible

Warmest,

Vish

(You Are My Symphonic)

The Expedition For The Future

Hi Friends,

They say a new age of enlightenment is upon us & I can already sense it's brew of pleasant thoughts. I've been looking back on the early few weeks of this year and have continually asked myself, "That's it? It's only February?!". I hope you are all experiencing moments that you'll cherish.

It's sometimes hard to define that exact moment when things started in motion for you. The momentum of 2012 began when The Skeleton Crew Quarterly (SCQ) ranked "I Found Your Faces of Montreal" at #5 of their 2011 top albums list. Finding my place on that well-guarded list found me completely speechless & capped off an absolutely wonderful year for You Are My Symphonic. Warmest thanks to SCQ for their post, and equally, to you all who have listened and made "I Found Your Faces of Montreal" a part of your experiences. My pride swells when I think of the possibility of you forging new memories with my album in hand. Thank you.

SCQ Ranks "I Found Your Faces of Montreal" at #5 from 2011

Jason Rodi of Nomad Nation is an explorer. He's currently on a cross sub-antarctic voyage to Bouvet Island which is the most remote island in the world. Over the past months, he's collected the visions of the next 50 years from school children, adults, artists, scientists, anybody really. They will placed in a time capsule & buried in the farthest point from humanity - a voyage to the future. It's been tough and on the eve of the landing on Bouvet island, Jason expresses his thoughts with the warmth of "The Light Across Your Face". It glows a feeling of "We Made It". I'll always watch this as a reminder of going there, wherever there may be. What is your vision of the future?

The Expedition For The Future (NotreFutur.org)

Last Broadcast Before Bouvet from The NOMADS on Vimeo.

Best,

Vish

(You Are My Symphonic)

Halloween's Weekend

Well in the usual last minute movements just before a Halloween party, I was scouring the streets and my mind for costume ideas. My morning meditation session yielded only visions of prop-driven costumes that had me carrying an inflatable anvil or round ended weights & a tattered and inverted umbrella. Props are usually my friends at Halloween. Last year, Mar & I went to the park and gathered up some leaves and branches while keeping watch for the cops as unsure criminals. Lots of tape later & with a stuffed toy owl sitting in my shirt, I was instantly a tree. Several thumbs up from constant judging tied to Halloween told me that I had pulled it off. But with a tight spaced party in the future plans for this evening, I figured I better tighten things up. A gorilla suit had a hold on me, but the heat would prove to be unbearable and the crucial drinking hole in the mouth was missing. A wig, curly moustache, a doctor's coat & a big novelty foam finger will make me some kind of weirdo proctologist, even to be confused with Borat. Fall forgive me, but wish me luck.

Best,

Vish
(You Are My Symphonic)

CBC Radio 2 Airplay & SCQ Review

It was by chance that I checked Laurie Brown's CBC Radio 2: The Signal playlist on my way out from work & I was thrown back in my seat when I saw You Are My Symphonic in the first hour of the broadcast. I started on with the social media & texting various friends and family. My sister, Ro, even called my mother, who's birthday was the same day, to help her dial into the CBC station out of Toronto. It was an extremely fulfilling moment to hear those first few scattered notes of "Autumn Will Fall in Love" hit the airwaves. A beautiful moment to be played, especially with the autumn theme of the broadcast. If that wasn't enough, the highlight description of The Signal Podcast #66 featured the uneasy history of I Found Your Faces of Montreal. Then, to cap it off, "I Traveled Home" was put into the rotation on Monday. Take the podcast with you in your autumn walks and don't be surprised to discover new contemporary experimental music with The Signal.

CBC Radio 2 The Signal Podcast #66 (First hour which features YAMS)

CBC Radio 2 The Signal (Full Broadcast Stream)

Exploring through the independent & experimental music scene can result in adventurous sea stories of the times you stumbled upon growing musical collectives, all-star mixers & masters and microlabels putting out handcrafted keep-sakes. Ryan Pratt, who is at the helm of The Skeleton Crew Quarterly (SCQ), has a well earned reputation for truly understanding and keeping up with the steady flow of albums, both personal and promotional, that land at his doorstep, giving the attention these albums deserve. With his endless support, Ryan has written a review for ABOA & had asked me to contribute to his Year End Review Feature back in 2009. This week, IFYFOM was featured in his Quarterly Feature which explores music tied to the natural growth or decay of a season. It's a great honour to have the album rated at 88% & to be at home with other autumn tones. Enjoy the review & the depths of music where SCQ is continually steering us towards.

SCQ Review of IFYFOM (Autumn Records Feature)

Best,

Vish

(You Are My Symphonic)

The October Turn

Busting the 20 degree celsius mark over a holiday weekend in the middle of a Canadian October is about as strange as finding imagery of change on a Caribbean beach where the temperature and sun beams flirt within a very tight and predictable margin. Two weeks away with Mar alongside the still turquoise waters & white sands gives a seemingly infinite set of moments to feel connected in some way. It's a side of me that isn't unlocked very often in this northern climate, and emerges when I drift closer towards the humid sun of my birthplace, Trinidad.

My father enjoys telling me stories of his past, navigating the oceans and seas of the world, the ebb & flow of the currents & tides. I spent so much time in the water that even in the night, I could feel the frequent movements of the sea from my abdomen to my grown sea legs. Waves traverse the globe and crash into the shores, pulverizing some ancient rocks into fine beach grains. The horizon is cut straight by the blue sky at the unattainable distance. I found out later that our minds give into the illusion, believing its much farther away than the 3 miles where it actually lies. It's true you can never catch it after you start running towards it, but then again, the possibilities are much closer than we'd like to think. It's funny to imagine that the Flat Earth Society put all their chips into a belief bet that could have been revealed, merely 3 miles out.

Monica Farago is a personality you'd love to meet. Her's is a character that has grown to fill all the seams of her spirit. Multi-faceted & energetic, I was honored when she decided to write an article about You Are My Symphonic's two releases: ABOA & IFYFOM. She speaks of my love affair with aviation & goes as far as to call me a "musical master chef". A great friend & music lover, thank you Monica for all your support. You can check out her article at the following link:

Toe Jam Mondays: You Are My Symphonic Blends Intelligence & Beats

I remember to one year ago this weekend when I shot the footage with Mar, Vas & Kelly at Le Massif mountain in Quebec, Canada. David Woodford edited those images into this beautiful piece. If you haven't already seen it, I trust this will help wrap you in the colors of the season.

Leaning into the turn through October,

Vish (You Are My Symphonic)

YAMS Featured by No Ripcord & Interviewed by Nanolog

Well the start of August has been a furious push forward for the release of "I Found Your Faces of Montreal" (IFYFOM). Within the span of a week, I was delighted to hear such positive feedback on the album which was accompanied by some very exciting requests!

First off, the highly acclaimed online indie music & film magazine, "No Ripcord", has featured You Are My Symphonic in their monthly "Your New Favorite Band" feature where they profile two under-the-radar acts. That in itself was highly rewarding for me, but, it turns out this is also a competition! The artist whose profile article receives the most 'Tweets' and Facebook 'Likes' will win the title of No Ripcord Readers New Artist of the Month along with one month's worth of free banner advertising and a coveted spot on our monthly podcast, The No RipCast. So, check out the link below! I hope you enjoy the article & please vote!

Your New Favorite Band #6: You Are My Symphonic

Simultaneously, the heart-on-sleeve photography & music blogger behind "Nanolog" has reviewed the YAMS catalogue from "Afternoon Birds of Arima" (ABOA) to IFYFOM. Those albums seem to come along at the right time in a very sunny Scotland & I thoroughly enjoyed reading this personal take on the albums. He also asked me to participate in his "Seven Questions With..." series which is an open-ended conversation starter to find out what makes artists tick.

Nanolog's 'You Are My Symphonic' Post

Seven Questions with Vishal Kassie AKA 'You Are My Symphonic'

Onwards With August,

Vish (You Are My Symphonic)

IFYFOM Release Party at The Loyola Chapel: Filled With Good Souls

It was truly expected, given the long, vast & troubled story of the last four years, that the moments leading up to June 25th echoed the writing of "I Found Your Faces of Montreal". For several weeks, I had been searching for the right venue to both host my friends & family and to mirror the mood that I had envisaged for this album's first showcase. On a chance evening drive to a comedy club in the western Quebec countryside is where Paris-mate Stu & Helen fell into a conversation about multiculturalism & artistic possibilities, centered around The Loyola Chapel. This once Catholic stone church with high arched ceilings had been handed over to the University and it's up-keep & personality was being groomed daily by Helen. A few afternoons later, we sat on the side-door steps and charted out the initial ideas for the release party.

Over the coming weeks, I had the pleasure of rehearsing through the night in this ancient space, becoming familiar with her lights, shadows, acoustics & rustic smells. Like the strongest thread of "I Found Your Faces of Montreal", this first and most special show was pulled forward with the hands of my friends & family.

Truest thanks to Mar for sitting at the center of the chapel & listening for the right mix balance, Roshini for sacrificing 24 hours on a bus to only spend 24 hours in Montreal which most were filled with frantic preparations, Davy for stitching together & projecting the places that we've visited, My dear Toronto friends who made the trip to this city, The many friends that helped move pews & kept the energy flowing, Matei for preserving these moments through photographs, Helen & her crew for their support and extremely gratifying atmosphere, The passersby that walked in & enjoyed these moments, All the souls, both in body & spirit, that couldn't be at the Chapel, your support and love took a seat among us in the intimate cluster of pews.

The night surpassed all of my desires & my fingers felt nimble on the guitar and piano. I had the opportunity to speak with each of you after the performance about your reactions & feelings. I sensed your deep kinship with the music, visuals, atmosphere & their encircling stories. The success of the evening was revealed in those telling moments, when you felt how much you all are intertwined with this 8-song personal diary.

Your incredible generosity through the evening led to a total possible donation of 110$ towards charity. As many of you know, I have been a volunteer with the Canadian Red Cross and I have taken part in various relief efforts. Half of the donation has been given to the Canadian Red Cross to continue to support the victims of the Quebec flooding which began during the spring-thaw. My sister has spearheaded a few programs on behalf of the Lung Association aimed at enhancing our air quality & health. Breath is one of the basic & simple elements of life which is also directly linked to our emotions. The remaining half of the donation has been given to the New Brunswick Lung Association to help contribute to clean air initiatives.

I remember feeling awkward when answering that almost generic question when you meet new people: "So, what do you do?". Standard responses include listing the top line of your resume. Momentum gathered from the immense journey of "I Found Your Faces of Montreal" & this very special evening showcase with you all has solidified that my pool of words to draw from should always begin with musician, artist & to wherever that leads.

The Very Best,

Vish (You Are My Symphonic)

Photography by Matei Dragutescu Photography Alex and Matei

www.alex4d.deviantart.com & www.alexwedding.deviantart.com

From I Found Your Faces of Montreal

From I Found Your Faces of Montreal

I Found Your Faces Of Montreal

Mastered by Mark Beazley of Trace Recordings

300 Limited Edition CD & Digital

Total Running Time: 52:18

Release Date & Launch Event: June 25th, 2011

The Loyola Chapel, Montreal, Canada

Live Set, Visuals, Cocktails for Charity

Event Details Click Here

Press Release:

It seems almost fated that You Are My Symphonic’s love-letter to Montreal would be usurped by his previous stomping-ground but that’s what happened when, during a Toronto stay in 2008, Vishal Kassie’s laptop was stolen. For fans well aware of how location often shapes this songwriter’s muse, the symbolism was particularly treacherous; that the near-finished recordings – which chronicled the forward-thinking changes in Kassie’s Montreal life – managed to evaporate mere hours after he’d stepped foot onto Toronto concrete suggested he’d never left, or grown, at all.

A complete do-over, then, but one Kassie doesn’t lament for a second. In fact, the robbery set the gears in motion for a better album. “It took that moment to shake my guard and help me write some of those lyrics that I truly love now,” Kassie writes from his in-home studio. With the support of his friends and family already tied into the record’s narrative, I Found Your Faces Of Montreal suddenly swelled with new purpose. The record jumped from six songs to eight, while its title track – originally an instrumental – transformed into a lyrical centerpiece. “The aftermath of that whole experience was when I put down the lyrics to the title song,” Kassie remembers. It would be but the first of countless revisions, with each alteration adapting to the promise that one can never truly go back.

Re-recorded over a three-year span, I Found Your Faces Of Montreal also recounts a gradual shift from the electronic apex of 2009’s stopgap release Afternoon Birds Of Arima back to the folky CD-Rs Kassie began handing out nearly a decade ago. Organic instrumentation provides an anchor to You Are My Symphonic’s romantic sensibilities, allowing the lilt of an acoustic guitar (on ‘Meet Me In Trinity’) or a grizzled harmonica (‘My Father And His Sister’) to share space with Kassie’s now trademarked beds of ambience. Driving many of these compositions beyond their electro-acoustic loveliness are Kassie’s vocals, which convey yearning in a way that sharpens the album’s melodious veneer.

By romancing both the city (‘Autumn Will Fall In Love’) and, occasionally, its citizens (‘Rooftop’), these instances act as intersections to the rich, emotional geography of I Found Your Faces Of Montreal. Bracing our nomadic steps with wide-eyed meditations on love, ancestry and distance, You Are My Symphonic has inadvertently written the ideal companion disc for traveling alone. “As painful as it was to restart I Found Your Faces Of Montreal, I wouldn’t trade this new version for anything,” Kassie states, “It sounds right.” And as someone who has worked so hard at rediscovering his sound, it’s befitting that You Are My Symphonic also found home in the process.

Available At:

& &

Great Lake Swimmers - Lost Channels

My collegues were all surprised of my intention to hop onboard a Via Rail train and settle into a seat for 14 hours towards the heart of New Brunswick. To them, the over-night train promised to be a rocking wagon with the windows pointing out to the black depths of the Canadian sky. To me, the thought of this trip danced in my head for too many reasons. Seeing my sister in her element under the late spring air and to polish out the finishing touches of my longest musical project, I Found Your Faces Of Montreal.

I wanted a window seat but learned that they pushed the sales until they were sold out, so I had to take an aisle. My grumbling faded quickly when I stretched out on the seats and with a walk around the cars by going through an Apollo style automatic airlock. My seat mate for this dusk to dawn cycle was a gentle old man buttoned up in red flannel. Packing has always been a rush and following that trend of normalcy, I had only my cellphone with one of the lowest megapixel counts. I cocked my arm up against the seat and attempted to stretch the tiny lens to capture the scenes speeding by. I caught his face in fifteen photos looking over the Quebec countryside warmed by the sun, in the the dying light, covered by a blanket in the late hours, at morning alongside a river and a pine forest and squinting to see through the foggy salt water bay and her towns. In the last five minutes before I was to step off at the station in Miramichi he told me that he had lived in St. Catharines, Ontario, for 40 years, the small city where I spent my high school years, and he never could call it his home. It wasn't until I pulled on the strap to my shoulder bag resting on a luggage cart that I realized those photographs I took of his perspective were actually of mine.

Ro picked me up and we drove down the Miramichi River Route and watched the landscape blend the rolling hills and pines with the small towns hugging the river beds each with their own white church steeples. Machinery and trucks sprawled across the lawns and driveways of homes were jagged contrasts to the countryside that I wanted to visit and urged me to keep Ro on the pedal. After a burningly hot dinner at a Caribbean restaurant, of all places, we walked the river front trail where showboat steamers would break from their nightly push with travelers and class acts to be moored along these shores. The preserved old government house was shielded by windows and the glow of orange candle lights that reflected onto to paint the shivers all of all things haunted. The sun disappeared when we crossed past a hedge which marked the house's property and entered the ancient Native Indian land and an erected monument. A cat ran out of the shadows towards us and I jumped, but passed it off as excitement to my sister.

The next morning brought Ro's Birthday and she put me to work by building two barbecues and a patio table. In the late afternoon we stepped into Jubilee Chinese Buffet which had a strong likeness to a converted hockey arena. Out of mind was the ad-laden paper placements and our focus shifted to the chasoo pork. We drove in the fading light into Saint John to pick up with Amy on our way to Churchill's to have a few beers and spinach dip with pita chips. The constant level of bar chatter and laughter carried me upstairs to the bathroom hallway where I found old browned photographs of train yards. We slept at Leah's place, where Amy was squatting, which in turn made us second level squatters. I curled up on the long couch of the living room which housed a fireplace and joked about ghosts, but half expected them to appear when called for by the creaky floors when I woke up to go to the bathroom.

We picked up Kel & Cath in the morning and toured around uptown Saint John. Duke street corner buildings with a view down the hill to the harbour, a mansion listed at $750000 ready-to-buy, Germainia and to the market for soaps & picnic items. Descending from the Hollywood sign hill to cross the harbour bridge with 50 cents, pushing on the lower shore towards the Maine border and St. Andrews. The tide pulled out to let us walk out on the sea bed with the unseen rocks that rest on the bottom. Kelly nicknamed Catherine after her boots, but she was the only one dry and comfortable. She later acknowledged her strong packing decisions by wearing all the shoes she carried for the trip. We put our feet in the water with the same personalities of our younger selves, touch-tank starfish and sea cucumbers.

Feet running along the river trail towards the lighthouse of safety. Unpacked the supplies & found ourselves staring at a mirror reflecting our parents - I manned the BBQ & Roshini was posted to the kitchen & Kel woke up just in time. Pictures in the garden backyard brought flashes of kelly and I on a patio, with a boy she can't control, running out to see cool uncle Vish. Ro cracked an old 2006 Vintage that she stored in her apartment cellar and we toasted with Auntie Diane's choir practice tape, full of scales. Clocks turned and the garden party evolved from day to midnight, "Stealing Tomorrow" by breezes carrying that long weekend feeling.

At the airport, the four of us stood for photos that would be tucked away into nostalgic boxes, awaiting to be discovered. A Westjet employee attempted to guilt us into thinking we would make the plane late. We squeezed a said goodbye and watched the plane take off on the far side of the field. The road to St. Martins descended to an expansive salt marsh, the turns sharpening, left then right, following the trail past an inlet cove harbour and across a covered bridge towards the rock beach with both awarded-winning chowder and the world's best chowder. We settled on award-winning but surprisingly the fries tasted like they were pinched from KFC. The distant shoreline mountains were touched by fog and I put my feet in the Fundy Bay waters and froze to death while Ro struggled to find the capture button on my cell camera.

The salt ocean retreated from battering the caves, opening a view of the land that used to be tropical sea beds, it's layers giving us a surfaced insight at ten stories high but still hiding thousand more ancient secrets in between it's pages. Newfoundland's 'Black Rock' came crashing down under harsh Atlantic currents. New Brunswick's sandy rocks are carefully pulled away by the gentle hand of the tides. I tasted the brackish water, half-salt half-fresh. Kids on holidays came towards us slowly, zombie-like, spread apart & stumbling on the rock beach. Reversing our turns through the windy road, we found the harbour cove dry, fishing boats rested on stilts on the muddy floor. If you took a day off, the bay would steal your boat or leave it to die.

We drove the Fiddle Head route, around the peninsula to Grand Bay, marsh land coves, connected by the river crossing ferries that the people fought hard to keep. My sister was confident with her hands on the wheel, flowing down, up & around the shorelines, only one season after her crash on the icy main highway. We talked for hours and agreed to knock down some trees in this valley to build her a home on the hilly farm lands kept rich from the river marshes.

Gord Downie And The Country Of Miracles - The Grand Bounce

A couple of hours before we left the apartment, I told Mar about the countless times that I had listened to the Kingpin's "Let's Go To Work" in high school and romanticized living in Montreal. Summer day rays must have blanketed these people and their streets differently. The allure of catching the "Last Train to Expo '67" to lay hands on the promise of new life beneath the futuristic canopy in a city truly special, something pulled against the grains of time.

"Yellow Days" greeted us when we entered LaRonde on the island dreamed from the documentary stock footage that came to life with the passing of the covered monorail that toured the amusement park. We rode the plot driven named rides like how we must have in our younger years. Le Monstre was the fastest wooden rollercoaster I think I've ever let take control of my life. In line at the haunted house rollercoaster that was intended for children mostly, but not advised for pregnant women, we enjoyed chats about birth's from women who didnt' even know they were pregnant. We screamed a few laughs when the operator put us through the ride twice in a row and we left when the sun was peaking through the July skies. Beneath the LaRonde tower, The Pirate, swung back and forth until at the top you felt your seat fall from under you slightly and you could have sworn for a second, you had flown. I got the courage to wait until the cusp to turn to my left and towards the Montreal skyline underlined by my growing chest that Montreal was where I belonged. The night brought a fireworks display carefully choreographed with the background vocals exploding minature powder flashes in the sky.

The gates shared a view with the iron Jacques Cartier bridge and it's abandoned supporting building gave off an expression of being mostly haunted. I imagined that this may have been where hundreds of people went to work everyday for the port, under the boom of the bridge and the fleuve. I've crossed that bridge once before, near the end of that long bus ride back from la Beauce with Len which was the first long trip for me at 15 years of age. In the middle of the night, the iron structure took us well above the island and I looked down at LaRonde for the first time. We were incredibly hungry when we stumbled into some fast food and ate before the final leg of the journey back to Ontario. My personal landmark of that Burger King is nowhere to be found today.

At work that week, we had gotten an email with the dashboard of the Delorean from "Back to the Future" with the date Jul 6 2010 on the time circuit. This was dubbed the year when Marty McFly arrived into the future of hover cars and pizzas that grow from the size of a dollar to an extra large in 30 seconds of microwave time. A co-worker promptly told the email chain that this date was lifted from another scene and, in fact, it was 2015. So, we survived meeting up with the future for another five years. The magic of moments in the summer with great imagination can put too much promise and importance into the future. We'll never stop romanticizing it and hoping for the best, and in some way, we always end up living it.

Fair Day from Jun Kang on Vimeo.

Afternoon Birds Of Arima

Last summer, my good friends Richard and Keisha asked me in their casual way to write the notes that would start their lives together. The character of the next three seasons found their way into Afternoon Birds of Arima which was played at their wedding at Santa Rosa Catholic Church in Arima, Trinidad and Tobago on May 16th, 2009. This album also marks the 22 years it took for me to return to my birthplace and to explore a life that I once knew.

The Northeast trade winds that we felt pass through the curtains recaptured those childhood images that became faded and helped paint the lines of the pages that you'll write together.

For Richard And Keisha.

released 26 June 2009

All music written and produced by Vishal Kassie

Vocals on Rainfall In Arima (Closing Credits) by Anna Farago

Copyright US Library of Congress SR 634-229

Former Ghosts - Fleurs

It seemed like clockwork that my Swedish car would develop fall into a broken bone and her walk taunted me like a vicious lover's cycle. On her good days, whatever gentle pressure was needed for the road to followed her wheels was never felt in my in lungs or in my hands that held it steady. Her mood shifted in the clutch and we enjoyed and I hated the times we made up before we fell into it all again. One week before my April birthday, I drove the 401 route to Toronto for the last time with the SAAB. The catch was that I had to extend my drive to Brampton to visit my long winded cousin that can evaporate hours and your breath. He told me to meet me at a bar called "Tracks" which was behind the banks and in the lot beside the train track overpass. We shared a few beers and enjoyed our conversations. We stayed later than intended as he brushed off our need to return to Kel's place at a decent time. None of this was a surprise. One o'clock brought us to Kel's and she greeted us at the door half asleep and we exchanged updating conversations until she was too tired to stay up.

My cousin was to take my car and prepare it for sale and at the same time rid me of the social requirement to have a car and collect a 10% commission. The nostalgic orange sky drive from earlier that evening didn't resurface and I felt no longing saying goodbye to that car. When I walked back into her to house, Kel immediately woke up and put ideas on the table that included late night drinks as she pulled a party favour from behind her ear. She offered me a Bud Light Lime and I could taste the freshness in my tongue during her description. Some time ago, her and Cath visited me in Montreal and got me hooked on So Nice, a soy based milk beverage, but conveniently omitted the fact that it had been linked to impotence. In the same sentence as the Lime beer she offered me a So Nice slushie and we added vodka - I was destroyed with laughter.

The next day, Cath, Kel and I headed towards Greektown for lunch at my aunt's and our favorite restaurants, Mezes. We drove past Cath's soon to be father-in-law Mr. Donahue on the corner of Danforth and a side street. The car slowed and I rolled down the passenger windown and said "good afternoon Sir". He laughed and was surprised, but before we could say another word Cath hit the gas to take the corner and we drove onwards to find a parking spot at the side of the road with the past due bananas in the backseat for Kel to make her bread.

That night Dani and David took me out for an early birthday dinner at a sushi restaurant close to our old haunts. Most of my vision of the night is blurred but I remember Dani gave me an amazing card with flying saucer with a little boy inside shaded in brown with a crayon. The cover brought a laugh but her words were of the most special and still sits on my bedside table.

Reverend Niles has been around their families for years and gave the service when my aunt celebrated her musical life and when she moved on from it. Cath naturally visited him in that familiar Markham church to ask him to be at the center of Cath's wedding atop the Manulife center surrounded by a panorama of the city that breathed life into their childhoods, their own lives and my shaping in the shadows of the buildings in University years. Her satisfied drive home demanded a nostalgic soundtrack and she searched that old beat up green Corolla but found nothing except for an ancient tape deck with a working spool inside. Without a though the play button was pressed and rising a falling scales sung by her mother and her vocal coach crackled and strained the speakers. The loop of this tape played for her mother to hear the depths of her tone for the many choir shows they and I attended.

Cath asked me to write some notes for her wedding and urged me to use this tape filled with the Former Ghosts that will carry us from the August Sunday afternoon light to the neon flicker of the nightly city. Riding the elevator, we'll use these moments to tell our Mother the new moments we've shared and our excitement for the ones to come.

Ry told me his first listen to Former Ghosts involved walking the rainy Thanksgiving streets of his hometown in a neighbourhood, somewhat foreign, where his parents had moved. He later read that "Fleurs" was so reverb laden that if you strung out all of its spools, it would drift on for years.

Epic45 - May Your Heart Be The Map

Nico was a good friend of mine who showed me around the city when I first arrived in Montreal. He introduced me to his French friends, their parties and their lives while trying to make jokes in two languages against a backdrop of a single red painted wall per apartment in the Plateau.

A Sunday morning in the summer, we had a breakfast of crepes and shared a window pane with a backyard terrace whose stones were darkened by the rain. I hesitated everytime the waitress stood by with her pen and pad listening for my order of french pastries. In the car ride home, I watched the glued rain drops on the window pane and said a brunch goodbye to Nico, his Mom who was visiting from La Reunion and Laurent and Caro.

I swung open my door and grabbed my umbrella without a second thought and turned around towards the direction pointing to where I had just been. It immediately started to rain as I walked the stone streets which were forced upwards and delicately torn apart over the years under the falling water. Alongside Parc Jeanne Mance on the asphalt path with giant trees standing as fence posts, the rain turned and confronted me head on to keep me out. After falling miles, the sheets of rain pushed me under a tennis court overhang. Afternoon rivers formed and they walked down the concrete stairway and it's falls spilled into the sidewalk. My pant legs were soaked and I waited in the crisp air with delayed rain drops crashing and finding eachother all around me. I closed my eyes and I could hear their wide texture.

It's intensity slowed and I jumped over these new landscapes and walked up towards Laurier. I found myself at the cafe, looking in through it's window to her and her workmates in the brunch closing hour. Standing beneath the neighbour's overhang, I planned my move inside and I delayed it. She emerged and walked the other way with her black umbrella open. I ran after her across the abandoned main street and down a house filled road.

In my broken french I tried explaining that I was at her cafe earlier and that I didn't have the courage to linger around her smile and that if we could over a coffee. I told her my name and Alexandria told me hers in an auburn french accent. She told me she was sorry and that she was taken, in the rain, she was late in meeting him. She gave me thanks and I was convinced she embraced the warm gesture. My urgency left with the empty wet streets. The sparse and floating keys of "The Balloonist" carried me back down towards my home but never once broke my smile of tasting what a morning after summer brunch could have been and the reasons why this was the last day I wasn't going to tell you that I've gone ahead and fallen for you.

Midway into the summer and in between parting ways with Nico after a party to take a walk with my headphones down my brick lined street and phoning me up that Sunday morning, he learnt that this was the week he was going to quit his job in the city, leave for the islands and pursue his dream of being a pilot. Then he casually invited me to brunch. It was the same weekend in June, when I first moved to Montreal, that he left after seeing me through the year.

Sitting with friends, chatting over brunch, to try and capture the last night and day, May your heart be the map.

Riding Rails Through Fields

I've packed my bag full of clothes and managed to squeeze in my laptop the night before I board the train bound for the East Coast. I'm expecting the purple-red sky to greet me as we say goodbye to the Montreal cityscape and begin carving new lines in the country fields and worn pathways of the pine forests. I won't step off until Miramichi to meet my sister and the few days before Kel and Cath meet us for the holiday weekend. I imagine I'll have my headphones on most of the time, finishing off the last pieces of I Found Your Faces Of Montreal, which will be scattered along the coast of New Brunswick.

There are many hopes and desires for this new record which have been bounced off a few characters which you may have read about here. Be sure to check back in a few weeks for more much needed stories, album release news and promises of videos.

Rolling through the night to a morning,

You Are My Symphonic