Live Review: Crumb Invited Montreal into Their Perfectly Curated Bubble for a Show That Enchanted & Bewildered

Brooklyn-based psychedelic rock band Crumb proved themselves masters at turning a venue into their own world – and then guiding you through it – at Montréal’s Théâtre Beanfield.

Stream: ‘AMAMA’ – Crumb

Arriving on stage with minimal fanfar, the four-piece stood there all baggy clothes, muted colours, and fog.

While playing themselves all New York cool, Crumb were really laying the groundwork of a vibe, the structure of which would be their shelter for the whole evening. For fans of the band, it was familiar: Slow building tracks centered on long droning notes, reverb-soaked vocals high in the register, and enchanting, repetitive melodies. It’s a sound that has suited them since their debut EP, and nowhere has this been more apparent than on this year’s third studio album, AMAMA.

AMAMA - Crumb — ‘Amama,’ Crumb’s third studio album, released on May 17, 2024 via the band’s own Crumb Records

From the moment you lay eyes on the intricate, detailed artwork – a piece that benefits prolonged and repeat viewing – you know that Crumb are a band capable of creating sonic worlds for you to explore at your own pace. Close your eyes and get lost in the layers, stretch one melody to its extremes, or be carried off by lyrics so relatable and yet somehow bigger than all of us. AMAMA is a delight that rewards times spent with it in all situations: Background music over dinner offers different insights to headphone listening on public transit, but every listen offers something new.

This obsession with detail is exactly what they were striving for with their live show too: On this particular night, they wanted to make Montreal’s ** Theatre a safe haven for Crumb lovers, a comfortable universe in which to get lost. It was anonymous, the stage so dark and smoky that the musicians were nothing more than silhouettes, a sax solo emerging from the fog, an arm toying with a drum machine.

Every action felt remarkably calculated, pre-ordained to serve the overall effect the band was creating. Every quickening of the pace – and the pulse – was followed by a soft song, a dropping of the momentum back to the mean. Songs where lead singer ** removed her guitar, and arguably her shackles, were followed immediately by songs tethered to her instrument. At one point they all sat for a sombre song, a calming of the nerves and a chance to collectively exhale. The next song was one of the rockiest in the sets.

The feeling was like the peak of a night out: Where you’ve got your buzz to the perfect level, you’re in a wonderful headspace and the rest of the night becomes a project in upper and downer management to ensure the perfect high remains intact.

And it worked. The crowd swayed and sang and bobbed and weaved exactly as planned. I was struck by the audience’s reverence, the way they treated this four piece as Serious Musicians ™, not something typically reserved for shoegaze acts.

It was an idealized Crumb show, come to life.

Yet, I found myself frequently pondering what it would have been like if it was let off the rails a little. The joy of live performance is the spontaneity of it, the sense that anything can—and often does—go wrong. It’s the sign of an accomplished act to react to this. I was reminded of seeing Orville Peck several months before, who’s lacklustre set was blighted by his unwillingness to give the people what they wanted: Anytime any mention of Pony was uttered, the crowd went wild and begged for more, and yet we were left with ** songs across his hour and a half set. Every time Crumb upped the tempo and got the audience moving, the show felt like it was heading into uncharted territory. I wanted to explore that universe with them.

Crumb seem to have navigated this by creating a well-constructed pocket and staying within it; and if you love the band, you’d have had a great time. They were fully committed to the bit, catering exactly to the Idea of Crumb. I left feeling satisfied, but with a nagging sense that they were capable of more, that they could have stepped out of their comfort zone and bowed to the audience a little, keep them dancing even if the predesigned mood didn’t call for it. For a band who’s albums are a testament to their endless creativity and curiosity, their show felt quite contained.

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