Live Report: De Temps Antan At Sugar Club

De Temps Antan walk on stage to a rousing round of applause from a relatively formal-looking crowd. All are seated at their candlelit tables in the Sugar Club on a Wednesday night, watching, waiting.

The first note bursts forth, and the spark fills my chest with the kind of crackling warmth only traditional music can evoke. Though this French-Canadian trio have traded Irish folk tunes for Quebecois anthems, their vocal harmonies and lighthearted spirit have the audience hooked from the get-go.

When all the lyrics have been sung, Pierre-Luc Dupris stands and leans into the knee-slapping melodies of his harmonica. He’s flanked by violinist David Boulanger and guitar/mandolin/bouzouki savant Éric Beaudry, who, seated, move their feet in quick, skillful patterns reminiscent of a Broadway-level tap dance, the surprisingly solid strikes of their shoes against the ‘fodella’ – a plank of wood placed on the floor – serving as percussion. Jubilant whoops escape from the once stoic-looking audience. By the time ‘La veuve joyeuse’ is over, the crowd is cheering for more, and the band’s violinist is already sporting more than a few broken bow hairs – a sure sign of a passionate performance.

With five albums and nearly fifteen years of music-making to their name, De Temps Antan is no stranger to the stage, and it’s evident in their grounded presence in the spotlight. This is a group with a musical connection so close that performing on multiple instruments at once to a sold-out crowd looks effortless, comfortable, even. There’s something ancient about their tunes – when Boulanger and Beaudry join Pierre-Luc’s vocals and accordion in ‘Regret dans l’âme,’ there’s a sense of creative unity that’s hard to come by in contemporary music.

“Do we have some traditional music fans tonight?” Beaudry asks the audience, who shout their assent before hyping up for ‘Consolez-vous,’ a building tune that served as the title track of the band’s 2017 album.

It’s no surprise that this Irish crowd has embraced De Temps Antan – their upcoming show dates mark the group’s third tour of the country, their longest yet. “I’m sure it’s gonna be the best one,” remarked Boulanger. “No time to visit.” At a series of looks from his fellow bandmates, he smiles. “Some pubs,” he concedes.

The band then teaches the audience the basics of a waltz, having everyone count along before inviting up any viewers who might wish to dance to their next number, ‘Anaë toujours.’ An older couple do just that, swaying and spinning along to the jovial instrumental piece. For a few moments, the band freestyles, each member riffing off of the others. Soon, though, they return to that seamless unity, still playfully interacting with the audience as Boulanger leads them in a whoop-along by pointing his bow towards the crowd whenever a good shout is needed.

The transition from this piece to ‘Refaire la monde,’ an upbeat tune featuring each of the men’s solo vocals and Boulanger’s killer violin playing, is blissfully smooth. The song travels to a hundred different musical places, each member taking complementary paths away from the major key before coming back home just in the nick of time. Dupris allows his accordion to end the tune on its own, holding the instrument by one end and letting the other drop until no sound can be heard.

‘La brune habillée en soie,’ ‘Les pissenlits bricoleurs’ and ‘Damdé’ close out the first half of the concert, each tune bringing new twists delivered with twinned intensity and cheek. After a short break, the trio returns to the stage with ‘Reconsolez-vous,’ a slower tune that evokes a riverside walk through Paris. Dupris’s harmonica is highlighted here, mirrored by Boulanger’s harmonics on the violin as he climbs into the higher octaves. ‘Le ruisseau français’ and ‘Affilons nos couteaux’ also centre instruments: with a burst of echoing pizzicato (plucked strings) and purposeful scratchiness, Boulanger sets borderline rock jam ‘Affilons nos couteaux’ into motion.

Dupris and his jaw harp lead driving tune ‘Mépriseuse de garçons,’ whilst Beaudry on guitar strums solo to start ‘Jeune et jolie,’ the tragic tale of a young girl and her ill-fated child. ‘Jeune et jolie’ ends with a stunning round, the men’s voices overlapping but refusing to clash. Upbeat reel ‘Reelopel’ offers a more optimistic turn as audience and band alike let loose, their joyful shouts serving as an apt prologue to well-known tune ‘Buvons, mes cher amis buvons.’

With this classic song, the band merges into a single instrument. It’s syzygy. Each cog in this blessedly human venture turns on its own but furthers the ambitions of the whole, so much so that one can’t tell who is making what sound and, indeed, how any of those sounds could be separate at all. There’s something so utterly whole about it; something unbreakable.

The rousing ‘Projet Ratt / PAC’ continues this bond before the band exit the stage, returning at the crowd’s insistence for an encore featuring ‘Turlutte du rotoculteur,’ a tongue-twisting delight. The band manages to turn its energy up even higher. The tempo reaches a fever pitch. The audience rise in a standing ovation.

The concert ends, but everyone’s still humming along.