September 10, 2025
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Words like legends or icons get tossed around far too freely these days, used on things that aren’t deserving of such a title – and the worst part about that is when iconic bands like the Dwarves get label that, and rightfully so, the word has been too diluted for it to truly hit the mark that it should.
An icon isn’t simply a a band or artist, a figure, that has endured a certain amount of time, like an antique lamp on your great aunties mantle; its so much more than that. In the music realm, an icon is an artist or collective that has changed something through their music. A group that has either broken new ground or altered existing sounds to the point that they are widely known and acknowledged especially for distinctive excellence. Immortal.
See Also: Descendents at Metlus, Montreal
When it comes to punk rock, the Dwarves are icons. Sleazy purveyors of filth, sure. Degenerates, maybe. Icons, none the less.
Quite frankly, I was shocked to walk into the Cabaret portion of the legendary Foufounes Electriques and find it less than capacity… for the Dwarves! Where the fuck was everyone? I honestly was expecting this show to be on the main stage and jam packed. Because… it’s the Dwarves!
I, myself, was guilty of showing up late and missing the opening bands, which is something I pride myself on never doing. Prior obligations, yadda yadda yadda. But I did show up. This is a band that has done so much for punk rock, and hasn’t been to town in quite a few years, and the room was this empty? Do better Montreal.
Whatever. These were the cards that had been dealt tonight, and regardless, Blag Dahlia adorned his trademark fingerless gloves and climbed up on stage with his boys, and went about playing through a thoroughly thrashing setlist that included all of the bands best known works.
As always, mysterium surrounds the band. The identity of the bassist is obscured by a pair of sunglasses and a stocking pulled over his face. This sort of activity isn’t anything new to the band, who once went as far as to fake the death of their guitarist, who was named… well, HeWhoCanNotBeNamed. It was a publicity stunt and a tale for another time but it serves to show who we are dealing with here.
Tonight, the poor lighting of the venue serves as their disguise. Blag Dhalia can be seen from around the room but the three other members of the trope are shadowed by lighting as dull as a burnt out lightbulb. The music, however, is recited flawlessly. As recorded on their studio albums and the crowd are shouting along for the duration of their set. Vile words about sordid, naughty things. Gloriously crass and filled with debauchery. All of it quite amusing and fun.
At the conclusion of Everybody’s Girl, Blag was fishing for someone to finish off the song by saying “You’re creepy” and it took longer than it should have for that to happen. I felt compelled. So I yelled out “Me too!“. Blag turned, looked at me and said “Yeah, I’ve heard that about you!” and my night was complete. How awesome is that! Getting called a creep by Blag fucking Dahlia himself. This is a moment I may never forget. Ever.
All too soon, their set was over and with it, the night too. In shock, I asked others around me if that had been all too short set, but most people seemed to disagree with me, saying it was an average length set. I must have been having more fun that I realized… and time blew passed me like a fart in the wind. Checking a photograph I had taken of the setlist later that night, I was shocked to see that they had in fact played twenty-three songs.
Hopefully the less than spectacular turn-out doesn’t deter the Dwarves from coming back to Montreal. Although, I don’t recall seeing a whole lot of publicity for the show. Posters on lamp posts and whatnot.
Read More:
>> Castle Rat at Piranha Bar, Montreal
>> Descendents at Metlus, Montreal
>> Cypress Hill at Place Bell, Laval
Maybe, in time, this show ends up being one of those Cult things where those of us that were there, can say we saw the fuckin’ Dwarves in such an intimate setting! Punk rock icons on a small, badly lit stage, playing to too few people to make it worth their while. To be fair, the Cabaret room was full. My estimations of it being under sold are based on what I feel the turn out should have been. Not to so much what it was. They deserve to be seen and heard by the masses. They deserved the main stage of the Foufounes Electriques, pouring over beyond capacity on the floor and on the balcony.
Let’s stick with that!
