We set our scene: my friend (and co-Men I Trust lover) and I, sprint-walking up Princes Street, anxious to reach the St. James bus station in time for the six-thirty 900 bus. We arrive in the nick of time, and approximately an hour and a half later, we enter Glasgow’s Barrowland Ballroom. Never having been before, we are instantly enamoured by the venue’s dance-hall-esque wide ceiling, full of metal stars and disco balls, reflecting soft white light onto the packed crowd.
To our dismay, the crowd is an immensely tall lot. It’s easy to get annoyed when you know you’ll be craning your neck throughout a show. But the moment the music begins, all our grudges melt away, as we observe the reverence with which this group treats the music. Everyone is focused, hardly ever taking phones out to record. I’ve rarely seen a more invested crowd; people sway and boogie to every song, and at least three times the show is halted due to intense waves of applause.
Enough about the crowd, let’s get into the show! To paint a quick picture: a haze of coloured lights and mist, five empty microphones helm the stage. A few bars of ambient instrumentals, then a loud and steady drum beat. Out steps Emma Proulx, guitar in hand, ensconced in a halo of golden light, almost god-like, welcoming us with the reassuring lyrics of ‘To Ease You,’ the first track of May’s Equus Caballus, the band’s latest album. Proulx’s calming, airy voice closes out the song, blending perfectly with the lyrics to set the show’s tranquil tone: “You’ll be just fine.” As the lights turn from yellow to a calming blue, we know that— at least for the next hour or so— we’ll all be okay.
This is exactly what Men I Trust’s music does best: delivers solace in even the most stressful moments. I, like many others, first listened to the band during 2021 in lockdown, a time far from calm. Since then, I’ve found their music reliably soothing, suitable to current and COVID-era stresses alike. Despite its reliable character, Men I Trust’s music is far from boring; their discography is broadly textured and varied.
Seen live, Proulx’s ever-reliable voice stays faithful to the band’s studio recordings. To me, then, the most significant deviation in Men I Trust’s live performance was the drums. Eric Maillet has been with the band since 2018, and his percussion works alongside Barrowland’s cosiness to envelope us in a resounding, steady, thunderous-yet-relaxed soundscape.
The set’s third song, ‘Husk,’ is one of my all-time favourites, and so felt extra special to see live. Another highlight is the mid-show medley. With boppy and shortened versions of familiar favourites like ‘Oncle Jazz’ and ‘Numb,’ as well as deeper cuts, like ‘Norton Commander,’ there’s something for everyone. My favourite moment was a brilliant rendition of 2018’s ‘Seven,’ where Jessy Caron’s guitar shone through with a dreamy, saxophone-reminiscent riff that seemed to make the whole venue float.
After a false end, the band returns— answering the audience’s respectful calls for “one more tune”— with the perfect pair of ‘Worn Down’ and ‘Billie Toppy,’ closing on a bubbly, boogie-able, yet stable note, reminding us not to “stray” or “go to blame.”
Filing out into the packed entryway, we feel reassured and revived by Men I Trust’s resounding message that everything will be okay— delivered by their lyrics and supported by their live presence’s enshrouding tone of solace. On the eleven o’clock 900 back to Edinburgh, we’re absolutely exhausted, but our souls are awake, full of optimistic hope and trust.
Image via Eliana Harrick