All clad in platform shoes, black lipstick, and swaying their arms like goths screwing in a lightbulb, the crowd at Yves Tumor's Tuesday night show was ready. My first true rock show (guitars, crashing drums, larger-than-life stage presence) since the COVID-19 lockdowns, Tumor's performance felt different than any other show of its ilk I'd seen in my ten years of living in Toronto.
Tumor brought a swagger to match their fans, walking on stage with confidence dripping from their fingertips down the claw-like hilt that attached to their microphone. Dressed in white go-go boots, vintage gym shorts, a leather jacket and large wrap-around sunglasses that recalled Cyclops of X-Men fame, they left the theatrics and banter behind to sing with a passionate rasp and fire that never ceased.
The entire setlist felt like the rush of a steady moving train, kicking things off with "God Is a Circle" the lead single from this year's Praise a Lord Who Chews but Which Does Not Consume; (Or Simply, Hot Between Worlds). The stage had industrial metal crates with lights permeating from the center, and it felt oddly akin to a basketball court — and then a prison escape scene when sirens, guitars and synthesizers came screeching through the speakers.
A few times during the show, Tumor would walk to the side of the stage away from the light display and be spotlighted against only the black stage curtain, like some lost vaudeville portrait in an alternate universe version of the Ti West's Pearl. However, instead of a bright red dress, high kicks, and a desperate smile, it's a Black person with a mullet, gelled up in spikes and bleached bright blonde. We were inhabiting a space completely contemporary but imbued with a wild-eyed fervour and prowess that doesn't come easily in this age.
Being a seasoned, road-worn performer, Tumor drank up all the energy that the crowd gave to their biggest singles. While "God Is a Circle" and "Echolalia" started moving the show along, it was "Gospel for a New Century" that really spiked the audience. It was all killer, no filler; even during slower tempo songs like "Meteroa Blues," sung with bassist Topaz Faerie, vibrated with heartbreak as Tumor moaned and rasped into the microphone.
Encores can be trite — they rarely manage to conjure a feeling of true spontaneity anymore, with a sometimes half-enthused crowd scrounging up the energy for the encore they know they'll receive. Yves Tumor flipped that script, pushing the energy into the crowd — lead guitarist Chris Greatti let the reverberations of their last notes ring through the air before coming back on stage to provide an example of the dictionary definition of "shred" with a solo that was at least ten minutes (okay, it probably wasn't ten.)
As a queer Black person, seeing swaths of Black kids (both in and out of trademark goth attire), sharing the experience of Tumor's whirlwind performance was deeply uplifting. When I was in high school, watching a performer like Tumor while surrounded by people with similar identities would have felt impossible — last night, they opened up a whole new world.
Tumor brought a swagger to match their fans, walking on stage with confidence dripping from their fingertips down the claw-like hilt that attached to their microphone. Dressed in white go-go boots, vintage gym shorts, a leather jacket and large wrap-around sunglasses that recalled Cyclops of X-Men fame, they left the theatrics and banter behind to sing with a passionate rasp and fire that never ceased.
The entire setlist felt like the rush of a steady moving train, kicking things off with "God Is a Circle" the lead single from this year's Praise a Lord Who Chews but Which Does Not Consume; (Or Simply, Hot Between Worlds). The stage had industrial metal crates with lights permeating from the center, and it felt oddly akin to a basketball court — and then a prison escape scene when sirens, guitars and synthesizers came screeching through the speakers.
A few times during the show, Tumor would walk to the side of the stage away from the light display and be spotlighted against only the black stage curtain, like some lost vaudeville portrait in an alternate universe version of the Ti West's Pearl. However, instead of a bright red dress, high kicks, and a desperate smile, it's a Black person with a mullet, gelled up in spikes and bleached bright blonde. We were inhabiting a space completely contemporary but imbued with a wild-eyed fervour and prowess that doesn't come easily in this age.
Being a seasoned, road-worn performer, Tumor drank up all the energy that the crowd gave to their biggest singles. While "God Is a Circle" and "Echolalia" started moving the show along, it was "Gospel for a New Century" that really spiked the audience. It was all killer, no filler; even during slower tempo songs like "Meteroa Blues," sung with bassist Topaz Faerie, vibrated with heartbreak as Tumor moaned and rasped into the microphone.
Encores can be trite — they rarely manage to conjure a feeling of true spontaneity anymore, with a sometimes half-enthused crowd scrounging up the energy for the encore they know they'll receive. Yves Tumor flipped that script, pushing the energy into the crowd — lead guitarist Chris Greatti let the reverberations of their last notes ring through the air before coming back on stage to provide an example of the dictionary definition of "shred" with a solo that was at least ten minutes (okay, it probably wasn't ten.)
As a queer Black person, seeing swaths of Black kids (both in and out of trademark goth attire), sharing the experience of Tumor's whirlwind performance was deeply uplifting. When I was in high school, watching a performer like Tumor while surrounded by people with similar identities would have felt impossible — last night, they opened up a whole new world.
