Press Kit

Bryan and I met in university when we lived down the hall from each other in the dorms, though “met” might be a generous word—more like, we couldn’t stand each other at first. He had an electric drum kit that he’d play until 4 AM, and I had turntables I’d DJ on until 4 AM. The dorm became a battle of endurance. But eventually, at some poorly lit campus wine mixer, we realized we both played instruments, and, well, years later, here we are.

 

From the start, Family Man has always been about making people feel something—whether it’s elation, catharsis, or outright confusion. We don’t care as long as the energy is real. That ethos has taken us from playing Barfly, arguably the dive-iest of dive bars in Montreal, to selling out Sala Rossa for our album release, to playing a packed Mtelus, to touring across Europe and Canada, watching rooms full of people—people we’ve never met before—scream our lyrics back at us. We’ve done this largely on our own, and while we now have an incredible team behind us, we take immense pride in how far we’ve come with sheer persistence (and, let’s be honest, some reckless optimism).

 

Musically, we’ve all come from different places—hardcore punk, screamo, operatic singing, choirs, pop production. You name it, at least one of us has done it. And that’s shaped our sound into something distinct—raw, intentional, and constantly evolving. ICONOCLAST was, in many ways, a therapeutic release, but as we move into our next release, we feel an even stronger need to channel anger and frustration in a way that brings people together. There’s so much happening in the world that makes people feel isolated, unheard, or like they don’t belong. We want to create music that reminds people they’re not alone, that there’s power in feeling something deeply and sharing that with others.

 

We joke that Family Man is what happens when a Jew, a gay, a Métis gay, a Filipino gay, and an Indigenous guy walk into a bar—but there’s truth in that joke. Our lived experiences make us who we are as people, but more than anything, we’re trying to distill those experiences into something universal. At the end of the day, we just want to make music that people can scream their lungs out to, find themselves in, and walk away from feeling like they belong to something bigger. Because they do.