Halfway through his sold-out tour, Dijon walked out onto the barely lit L’Olympia stage in a sweater and jeans—no opener, no fuss—and somehow transformed a 2,400-capacity venue into a jam session in his living room. Before the stage lights even turned on, he slipped into the first notes of “Many Times,” and the room answered with a shout, the kind where everyone realizes they’re flung into something at the same time.
2025 has been Dijon’s year: The release of his sophomore album //Baby// to practically unanimous praise, a cameo in Paul Thomas Anderson’s Oscar-bound //One Battle After Another//, writing credits on Bon Iver’s newest album, and a Grammy nomination for Producer of the Year on Justin Bieber’s best material in years. But in Montreal, all that buzz dissolved, leaving us with something intimate and irreplaceable. Dijon wasn’t playing the part of an artist on a winning run; he was just making music in real time, fully trusting that we’d follow him wherever he took us.
With his seven-piece band, made up notably of Henry Kwapis on the drums, Amber Coffman from Dirty Projectors, and Daniel Aged, who’s previously worked with Frank Ocean and FKA Twigs, Dijon treated the night like a conversation between musicians: Songs weren’t just played, they changed shape, were remixed and rebuilt in real time. He’d restart mid-verse if the energy felt off, taking suggestions from the crowd. Band members moved around the stage as naturally as if they were rehearsing, tweaking sounds, stepping in and out depending on the track, like they were in a studio session we had the chance to witness.
The set list swerved between pulse-pounding highs and softer sounds. “HIGHER!,” “Talk Down,” and “Yamaha” hit like quick bursts of adrenaline, the lights flashing on the audience, revealing a crowd swaying in unison. He gave a fresh kick to tracks like “rock n roll” by adding drum weight, creating a version that now only exists in that room. “(Referee)” melted seamlessly into “Rewind,” detonating into the night’s most electric mixes. “FIRE!” leaned heavily on production, sometimes swallowing Dijon’s voice. Still, it didn’t shake the energy in L’Olympia. “my man,” unexpectedly, was the vocal masterclass: A song I wasn’t particularly excited to hear, but one he blew right open.
When the tempo slowed down, the room shifted with him. “The Dress,” his best-known and beloved track, pulled the audience into a collective trance, thousands of voices singing along. Its transition into “Annie” made the moment land even harder, the two songs folding into each other so naturally that the crowd leaned forward with them, powerless. He surprised the audience with “TV Blues,” an older track, previously untouched on this tour. Dijon’s been keeping fans on their toes, switching up the setlist at every stop, so the second the opening notes hit, you could see the crowd trying to place it, followed by smiles of recognition that ran across the audience.
After “Kindalove,” he saluted us and left the stage with his band members, but the crowd wasn’t having it. Their applause dragged him back out for a three-song encore: “Big Mike’s,” sped up, “Nico’s Red Truck,” an old single from his discography that had the whole room clapping along to the beat, and finally, “Rodeo Clown.” For that last hurrah, his band slipped offstage, leaving him alone in the spotlight, the audience cast in darkness, singing along. Slowly, the musicians drifted back onstage, folding themselves back into the song when needed. The encore cemented the spell, reminding everyone why he’s one of today’s most surprising and magnetic performers.
As I walked out, the music still vibrated in my chest, quietly humming, as if Montreal hadn’t just heard a concert but had helped build one.
