Kandle Live at the Rainbow

Danger to Dream is the definitive Kandle record. On her fifth studio album, influences of trip-hop, rock, and soul share a drink, meditating on the state of the world with cheeky nihilism and a dash of sultriness. It’s to be expected, having spent most of her life in an industry better known for breaking dreams than granting them.

Alas, not all is as it seems. While moonlit melodies have become a signature of Kandle’s sound, we start to see the light on Danger to Dream. Not a holy white glow, but a raging flame, ready to burn its path to enlightenment.

Kandle, originally from the West Coast and now based in Montreal, was first signed at 19 years old by an indie imprint based in Quebec. With a Juno and Prism Prize nomination under her belt, she has toured Europe, Asia, North America, and beyond. Her collaborations include Jack White, Half Moon Run, July Talk, and more recently members of Eagles of Death Metal in the outlaw country group, Midnight Cowgirls (Licorice Pizza Records). As destiny would have it, in 2020 she became an independent artist again, now sculpting her own path as a seasoned veteran. In this spirit, she has crafted Danger to Dream, self-produced alongside her collaborative partner Jeff Mitchell.

The album begins with the aptly titled “Intro”. It is a magnificent prologue featuring spoken word, electronic beats, and cinematically scored arrangement, setting up the scene for the listening experience ahead. It is followed by “Never Gonna Love You”, a Western-meets-Motown piece featuring Mitchell on vocals sounding like Iggy Pop riding up on horseback. Mitchell’s vocals and programming prowess add a whole new dimension to Kandle’s already kaleidoscopic world. There is magic in their collaborative chemistry, whether it be through shades of jazz and electronica (Wallpaper) or Bristol-via-Berlin industrial (Burn).

Collaboration is key on Danger to Dream, with inspired performances from virtuosic drummer Yato Noukoussi, vocalists Debra-Jean Creelman (Mother Mother), Kendel Carson, and the aforementioned Mitchell. But this is a Kandle record after all, and her ability to breathe poetry into the darker corners of life is what makes her work so special. She laments her experience with endometriosis on the icy trip-hop of “St. Paul’s”. She coyly pontificates existential dread in “Seen it Before”. On the album’s final track and album namesake, she is hopefully vulnerable, as expressed by her signature vibrato and self-assured control. Banshee screams of contorted string and vocal arrangements decorate the album's production, threading in and out of songs seemingly on their terms.

In truth, Kandle has returned to form