Deux places au cimetière, the debut album from Montréal duo Grand Eugène – Melyssa Lemieux and Jeremy Lachance – is a bouquet of 11 songs written over an extended period and across a range of contexts.
The songs took shape between Montréal, Paris, and other places along the way, drawing on early demos that were re-visited and refined over time. Produced independently, the album builds on their first two EPs while expanding both their musical approach and their creative process.
“It’s such a disjointed album, but it all holds together in the end,” says Lachance. Their debut album feels like a natural next step, almost an inevitable one.
Select the image to access the video for “omg”
After the two EPs, it was time to move forward, take up more space, and expand the format. “The EPs were like saying, ‘This is Grand Eugène,’” says Lemieux. “Now we’re building on that foundation. More songs, more time, more material, and more room to explore.”
That shift is immediately noticeable. Where their earlier releases leaned into a soft, hazy, dream-pop aesthetic, the LP embraces denser structures and fleshed-out instrumentation. “We’re layering a lot more,” says Lachance. “It’s less polished, a bit rougher, but in a good way.” Without tipping into outright rock, the duo brings in a subtle grit, a light distortion that gently cracks the smoother surface.
That tension becomes a guiding thread one that also informs the lyrics, which stay rooted in familiar territory: love stories. “It’s an album about love – all of it,” says Lachance, with a laugh. “Rushed beginnings, misunderstandings, drawn-out breakups. A lot of communication issues. Love at first sight, and everything that comes with it.”
All these stories share a common backdrop: Montréal. Yet, the album didn’t come together in a single place, or in one continuous stretch. “We worked in so many different places,” Melyssa recalls. A studio in Plaza Saint-Hubert, a converted van, an apartment in Paris, and a recording space rented by the week. Some songs had been sitting on hard drives for years.
That geographic decentralization is matched by a certain technical freedom. On “omg,” for instance, one vocal part is replaced with a rudimentary synthetic voice. “We didn’t have a mic, just my Mac,” Lachance explains. “There was a section that wasn’t working, so we pulled up an old text-to-speech [app], like Google Translate 2010.”The deliberately imperfect result folds seamlessly into the song’s vibe.
Other songs came together as a collective effort, including one the duo still refers to internally as “Lyon.” Officially titled “Hier,” it took shape in France, the day after a night spent with their bandmates. “We kind of jammed it out around the table – everyone brought something to it,” says Lemieux. The song made its way into their live set before being recorded. “On our set lists, it’s still called ‘Lyon,’ and it’ll probably stay that way,” she adds laughing.
“Instead of choosing between a Québec label and a French one, we decided to work with both”
By contrast, “Loin,” created with Miel de Montagne, followed a more winding road. “The song was missing a chorus,” says Lachance. “After a few attempts at writing one, I played the song for Miel de Montagne, and he immediately improvised a melodic line, and we rushed to the studio to record it.” The song went through around 20 versions before reaching its final form. “It really became a three-way composition,” says Lachance.
These collaborations are part of a broader effort to open up the project, especially toward France. From the outset, the duo saw it as a natural extension. “It was on our wish list,” says Lemieux. “Instead of choosing between a Québec label and a French one, we decided to work with both,” adds Lachance.. “We just told them to talk to each other,” he laughs.
This gave them a dual setup, with two teams, two networks, and two markets to develop, in parallel. “It basically doubles our contacts,” he says. And it opens up new possibilities. “We’d love to go back to Europe, but on a bigger scale,” says Lemieux. “Germany is kind of my obsession.”
Thankfully, that expansion hasn’t come at the expense of their roots. Grand Eugène, launched in 2023, has grown quickly, almost unexpectedly so. “It’s been a steady climb from the start,” says Lemieux. Their first songs found an audience right away, and label interest came early. “It still surprises us,” says Lachance.
Select the image to access the video for “Loin,” featuring Miel de Montagne
That momentum, however, also required some adjustments, particularly in how the group defines itself. Initially conceived as a collective project, Grand Eugène has gradually re-centred around the duo. “We did a lot of soul-searching,” they admit in unison. The lineup shifted, roles evolved. “In the end, we realized the core of it was the two of us,” says Lachance.
That clarity brought a new sense of stability. “We know what Grand Eugène is now,” says Lemieux. The duo has become the anchor, without losing the collaborative spirit. Onstage, the musicians remain essential. “It’s still a band,” she adds. But creatively, the direction is shaped by the two of them. Where the album leans into restraint, the live show becomes quite raw. “Live, we just have fun and fuck around,” says Lachance. “The structures loosen up, and I don’t care about hitting the right notes.” Onstage, the drums are much more rock-driven, and the musicians improvise, veering off the original path, to everyone’s delight.
At the heart of it all is a simple intention: making music that soothes. “Grand Eugène is like a bandage for the heart,” says Lachance. Lemieux nods in agreement. Even when the songs brush up against darker territory, they’re still carried by a sense of tenderness.
“Behind even the trashier themes, as the album title itself suggests, there’s nothing that’s ever beyond repair,” says Lachance. It’s all about emotions finding a way out. The duo carves out a space – two plots in a cemetery – to lay things to rest: memories, missed gestures, and above all, feelings of love that still linger.