Now and then, NardwuarServiette pulls a thread and suddenly you’re back in a part of music history you didn’t even realize you missed. That’s exactly what happens in his latest sit-down with Melissa Auf der Maur. What starts as a conversation about her 2026 memoir, Even the Good Girls Will Cry, quickly turns into a time capsule of 90s Montreal, analog energy, and the kind of underground scene that didn’t ask for permission.
And then, out of nowhere, a name that always hits home for me pops up: The Gruesomes.
What made that moment hit a little harder for me is personal. I actually went to college with Gerry Alvarez, the guitarist, singer, and driving force behind the band. I remember watching their rise from the inside, not as some distant fan, but as someone who was right there while it was happening. Their records weren’t just things I discovered later. I was spinning them on my college radio show, pushing that raw, fuzzed-out sound out into the airwaves before anyone was calling it a revival or a scene.
So hearing them come up in this conversation, years later, in a completely different context, feels a bit like time folding in on itself.
Nardwuar, being Nardwuar, digs into her Montreal roots, her connection to the city’s raw music culture, and those formative years that felt a little scrappier, a little louder, and a lot more real. Auf der Maur talks about that “last analog decade” like it was a living, breathing thing. Not polished, not filtered. Just pure discovery. Her book leans into that feeling, packed with love letters to Montreal and the scenes that shaped her.
And that’s where The Gruesomes slide into the story. Not as a footnote, but as part of the fabric. A band that helped define that gritty, fuzz-drenched Montreal sound. The mention of Santropol ties it all together, like a waypoint in this ongoing voyage through time, where past and present keep bumping into each other.
Then comes the part that caught me off guard.
The Gruesomes are back and never really went away.
Not just a nostalgic nod. They actually dropped a new album, The Dimension of Fear, on September 5, 2025. First full-length since 2000. That alone feels kind of unreal. But the sound? Still very much them. Fuzzed-out riffs, punchy attitude, and that slightly unhinged garage energy that never tried to fit in anywhere else.
Tracks like “You’re Outta Luck,” “That’s Using Your Head,” and “Web of Lies” feel like they could’ve been pressed straight out of another era, but somehow still land today without feeling like a band chasing its past.
I’ll be honest, I was late on this one. Completely missed the drop.
But not anymore. This is an instant buy. And yeah, there’s a little extra pride in that one.
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