Winterruption may hold events all across the country, bringing in acts from all over the world; but at its core, it's a community-based festival. So, it's only fitting that this year's festivities included hosting the sixth anniversary of the local secondhand vintage clothing shop, Chip's Vintage.
Now, I'm no fashion writer, so inventing words to describe the ice-cream pink walls and equally bubbly vibe of the small Chip's storefront and converting them into something meaningful is beyond my limits. However, the music of the night fit the store's aesthetic perfectly.
When NADUH plays, acts like the Supremes, Spice Girls, TLC and Destiny's Child — and the history of female empowerment within a debilitatingly exploitative industry they represent — do come to mind. But mostly, they are just flat-out fun to watch.
Bathed in bisexual lighting, the five-piece R&B group were wonderfully in sync, from the tight choreography (which at points involved pretending to drive a car and hand waves inspired by all those '60s-era beehive groups) to the ridiculously solid harmonies. It seemed nothing could shake them.
I'm always a little skeptical when a pop group says they're all best friends. Maybe it's my mistrust of marketing or my assumption that a touring band would get sick of spending so much time together, but NADUH's interpersonal relationships came through as they moved along the stage, often hugging or joking, showing affection to one another that then transferred toward the crowd. Splitting the audience in half for a two-part singalong or egging on the repetitive chant of "666 thicc booty bitch," they got everyone involved.
"Are we your new favourite girl group yet?" They asked toward the end of the set. I say yes. They may be from Vancouver, but with their astral energy, they are Venus's greatest export.
Between NADUH and the next group to grace the stage, BIG SIS, I'm not sure I've ever heard the word "bitch" mentioned so many times in one night. Both groups used the word with such cheeky confidence that it went from being humorous to overused to funny again. Kind of representative of the energetic rollercoaster of an alt-pop dance night.
With their sci-fi, high-visibility clothing, BIG SIS were comically antagonistic toward the crowd. We were told we had no fashion and were boring, as well as how lucky we were to hear songs that "are probably going to go platinum." Their consistent arrogance matched their musical style, rhyming "I'm obsessed with my ex / She's so tiny / She's the best" with "I like cute ones / Cute obsessed." I couldn't help but at the very least chuckle to myself.
If the mumblings in the crowd around me were any indication, the bizarre hyperpop dance beats were not what people were expecting. It took a while for the crowd to warm up to the strange performance, and in turn, BIG SIS took a little bit to warm up as well; they seemed slightly self-conscious during their post-ironic floss dancing.
For the first half, the sibling duo from Liverpool (and now based in Los Angeles) seemed slightly disengaged, primarily concerned with catering to the folks who brought out their phones to record a clip. But as the layers of construction clothing came off, revealing hi-vis bikinis, BIG SIS found a way to work the crowd as they pleased.
The music is fun and danceable, the perfect type of sound for a Saturday night out, but the main thing that stood out was BIG SIS's sense of humour. With wild lines — like the deadpan, forthright "I'm going to make you nut," or "No vaccines, just VIP" — blending into each other at a rate that it became hard to keep track of, their set was a masterclass in creativity.