Montréal

There was a time when missing the infamous Black Mondays at the Foufounes électriques was an unpardonable sin. Praying the bouncer wouldn’t card me, I could feel the adrenalin surge through my body if he so much as glanced my way. I was transfixed by the DJ’s devilish music, the jam-packed summer terrace, the dark interior with graffiti-covered walls and the tiny stage, once blessed by the likes of Nirvana and the Ramones. By turns a performance venue, art gallery and underground cultural centre, the “Foufs” has managed to continually reinvent itself throughout its 22-year existence. It grew in size and popularity as the alt-music scene expanded, without tarnishing its original spirit, shabby decor or the marginality it embraces. When nostalgia leads me back to this Sainte-Catherine Street temple of music, I realize that it is I, in fact, who’s changed the most.

– Violaine Charest-Sigouin