They say anger is a poor advisor. But after 30 years of raging against the machine, Les Vulgaires Machins prove that it can be a powerful antidote to today’s prevailing cynicism. On Contempler l’abîme, Québec’s most activist punk band delivers an apocalyptic chronicle – while still holding out hope for a better world.
Their latest album starts from the end. Literally.
In the opening seconds of “Terminé le fun,” the first song on Contempler l’Abîme, Guillaume Beauregard’s voice sounds like it’s coming from another era. Drenched in static, as if transmitted through an old-time microphone, it declares, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the end. It was about time we got here.”
At first, they almost sound resigned. But in the moments that follow, the band makes it clear they’ve never been more fired up. This opening track sets the tone for the rest of the album: raw, stripped-down passages sit alongside orchestral arrangements, and the band tackles the theme of The End – of the world, of ideals, of cultural industries, of the environment, and more – head-on.
“On the contrary, the very act of naming all of this, and deep-diving into these dark places, proves that we’re not resigned,” says Beauregard. “True resignation would be to stop singing altogether. For me, reading books or listening to artists who explore those places brings a lot of meaning to my life. It reminds me I’m not alone – there are other voices expressing the same concerns that I harbour. I, too, want to contribute to that conversation.” His partner Marie-Ève Roy – singer, songwriter, and guitarist – echoes the sentiment. “We want to be a cell that can connect to others,” she says. “To create bonds, to give a voice to those who are questioning things.”
While their lyrics might come across as pessimistic, Les Vulgaires Machins are, in fact, extremely lucid. On “Om Mani Padme Hum,” Beauregard runs through a litany of deaths, both big and small—some mournful, others eagerly awaited. With a healthy dose of dark humour, he even twists the most iconic slogan of the genre they’ve long been associated with, going so far as to wish for “the end of the future and the end of punk.”
Select the image to access the video of the Vulgaires Machins song “Terminé le fun / Om Mani Padme Hum”
“Honestly, I couldn’t care less whether punk is dead or not,” he says. “At 47, I’m no longer asking myself whether what I’m doing is punk or not. The debate still rages on, and we still get asked: ‘What does it mean to be punk in 2025?’ but it just doesn’t matter. Maybe I wrote that line just to change the conversation and move on.”
Moving on meant taking a bold step: crafting a thematic album, tied together with orchestral interludes that make the songs – which flow seamlessly into one another – feel like they’re in conversation. The band’s signature sound is instantly recognizable, but it’s infused with a new energy.
“I think we’ve broken free,” says Beauregard. “We’ve been doing this for 30 years. We took a 10-year break, then came back with Disruption, which was really well received. Our fans are more engaged than ever. During the writing process, I felt like there were no limits, and that kind of risk is energizing. That’s what makes making music fun.” Roy agrees. “We poured an enormous amount of effort into this album,” she says. “Giving yourself new constraints that push you into places you never would’ve gone otherwise is the most exciting thing in the world.”
When asked to name the boldest part of this new project, Beauregard turns to Roy with an admiring look. “You’re the band’s boldest move,” he says. “On Disruption, Marie-Ève really came into her own; she became much more involved in the writing process; she followed her ideas all the way through, and I believe that actually saved the band.”
“I think fully embracing my place in the band meant aligning with the message, but from a different perspective, especially musically,:” she says. “I lean more pop than Guillaume typically does, and I tapped all the way into that. While I was writing, I rediscovered ABBA’s music. Owning that pop side – that’s what kept me feeling free.”
Select the image to access the video of the Vulgaires Machins song “L’effondrement qui vient (Jenny alias ‘J.KYLL’ Salgado)”
Alongside Roy’s more present and more-essential-than-ever voice, another female voice emerges on Contempler l’Abîme: that of Jenny Salgado, a.k.a. J Kyll, who delivers a biting verse on “L’Effondrement qui vient.” “We started out around the same time as Muzion,” says Beauregard. “They were a band with whom we crossed paths and shared values. We even invited them to open for us at Métropolis – and I was shocked by how our own crowd reacted, booing them. So bringing Jenny back might be a way of righting that wrong. In our conversations, we barely talked about the song. We talked about the work we do, and our views on society. Jenny wanted to be part of that. She understood where I was at mentally with this project.”
This ambitious and brilliantly executed project pushed Les Vulgaires Machins past their own limits, and even drew on the reflections of intellectuals like Alain Deneault and Bernard Stiegler, whose voice can be heard on “Terminé le fun.” “I don’t know if we’ll make people want to read Stiegler, but they should!” says Beauregard. “We listen to managers, administrators, and tech giants all the time. But we’re so starved for meaning that there’s something healing about turning to philosophy. It’s interesting that the album invites these kinds of questions. You don’t need a Master’s in Philosophy to think about this with the people around you, and question things a little more. I know my writing is quite dark, but I swear there’s a flicker of light in there.”
Like good philosophy students, Guillaume and Marie-Ève ask questions, and don’t pretend to have the answers. They’ve outgrown the belief that music can change the world. But then again…
“It would be arrogant to claim that we can offer solutions in a three-minute song,” says Beauregard, with humility. “I don’t think that’s our role. But ultimately, I do believe that’s where music matters, and not just music, but art in general. Especially now, when culture is under greater threat than ever before. There’s real value in singing words that might speak to people. It creates anchors, and a sense of community. Let’s get together in a concert venue. We’re still here, humans together, and interdependent. In that way, we’re part of the solution.”