After meandering through miscellaneous topics such as analogue versus digital recording formats and a friend’s dad’s BMW that had a Foo Fighters CD stuck in the stereo, the conversation ultimately turns to the olfactory qualities of various local bands and with whom it would be acceptable to spend significant time together in a touring van.
These are observations voiced with an equal measure of revulsion, reverence, and glee.
For bassist Julia Hill, 24, guitarist Peter Baylis, 32, drummer Adrian Vaktor, 31, and 30-year-old vocalist Gabrielle Domingue, who together comprise Shunk, Montreal’s darlings of post-pandemic post-punk, an overripe scent is just another part of the aesthetic.
“Don’t print this!” Hill laughs.
Of course, there is no choice but to print it now. Because if you’re not working up a bit of a stink, you’re not doing rock and roll right.
Shunk have invited me round to their rehearsal space at the Marsonic building on Papineau, a gritty warehouse with top notes of lager-soaked carpet and Purple Kush. Converted into diminutive jam cubicles, Marsonic houses some of this city’s scrappiest acts. Four or five other bands share Shunk’s windowless chamber, they say. Nonetheless, this cheap little studio allows artists like Shunk the necessary space to hone their repertoires — and get weird in the process.

“I feel like you can experiment a bit more in Montreal,” Domingue says. “And you’re less worried about fitting it into the box. Music is such a joy, and it would be so sick if everyone could live off of that. But it’s so nice to be with people and create this sonic scape. It’s crazy that we can create that here.”
Aiming for something like Cocteau Twins, Shunk coalesced in the autumn of 2022 during the heady days immediately following the coronavirus lockdowns. As a former member of Pottery, another Montreal indie outfit, Baylis enlisted Vaktor, a fellow local who had trained with the legendary Hasidic drum master Jacob Kaye.
Domingue, who previously fronted the Mothland-adjacent Visibly Choked, brought her friend Hill, originally from Newfoundland, into the mix to round out the rhythm section. With their complementary sensibilities, the foursome strike a unique balance blending elements of ‘70s garage, ‘80s shoegaze, ‘90s grunge, and aughts-era media savvy into something truly thrilling.
“I was always in choirs,” Hill recalls of her childhood musical education. “And then I started taking cello lessons, which was really random because I watched this movie — it was a book adaptation of some YA novel — and the girl in it played cello and I was like, ‘I want to be a classical musician.’ And that didn’t work out because I got into punk rock.”
Baylis studied Royal Conservatory piano. “But after one of those tests,” he says, “I didn’t go back. I wish I’d never taken that break, but way she goes sometimes,” he laments. Instead, he took up the guitar and became a self-described “rock and roll lifer.”
Domingue relocated a few years prior from Ottawa after completing a music degree in operatic vocal performance. Yet she found classical music “too stuffy,” and Montreal’s ever-expanding cultural scenes provided the personnel and playing field “to be loud in,” she explains.
“In a band, you need three things,” Domingue states. “The music has to be good; or the vibes have to be good; or you have to be making good money. And you need two out of three of these to sustain yourselves. Otherwise, you’re screwed. We have good music, and we have really good vibes. So, we’ll keep going and hopefully along the way, we’ll start making good money. But for now, we’ve got the two essential ones.”
After three raucous singles — “Tennis,” “Sated,” and “Goblin,” (the latter of which appears on the NicheMTL 2024 Yearbook compilation CD) — Shunk have now released their first full-length recording, entitled Shunkland, and are slated to play a handful of not-to-be-missed shows in the Montreal-Toronto-Ottawa corridor.
Mastered by the veteran Canadian musician Nik Kozub of Shout Out Out Out Out, Shunkland was recorded over only three days with mixing engineer Josh Kaiser in Baylis’s father’s study at his parents’ house.
“They left for a week,” Baylis confesses. “So, me and Adrian went and set up the drums and tested them out, smacking the snare in different rooms around the house.”
As Vaktor describes, “It was literally walking around his house going, ‘how does this room sound?’ Gong!”
“We had the songs pretty down,” says Baylis, “and I knew that I wanted to do a live off-the-floor record instead of a track-by-track record. And I knew that Kaiser would add a clean shine to it, to the grunginess that we were bringing to it live. I feel like the music comes easy for us in some way,” Baylis claims. “Everybody’s open to listening to people’s ideas when it comes to writing or changing the songs. I don’t think anyone’s too stuck in their route about how it should sound.”
“I’d agree with that,” Hill chimes in. “It’s definitely more just we all have ideas when we’re writing so quickly and we all trust each other’s visions, especially when it comes to the songwriting stuff. So, whoever can put their idea…”
“…into words fastest!” Domingue interjects.
“…and loudest!” Hill resumes. “Whoever has the loudest idea that takes up more space is what we usually end up going with.”
“Sometimes the soft-spoken ideas come through anyway,” murmurs Vaktor, eliciting laughter from his bandmates.
“Yeah,” Hill concurs. “The three of us will be yelling over each other and Adrian will quietly have an idea and we’ll be like, ‘no, that’s not going to work.’ And then 20 minutes later we’ll be like, ‘he was right the whole time.’”
“We’re always hacking away,” says Vaktor. “We’re blacksmithing.”
“We’re like a hive mind,” says Hill.
Domingue deadpans, “We’re the Borg.”


I first caught Shunk live last spring at Suoni per il Popolo, as the opening act for Yoo Doo Right, where the double bill nearly blew the top two floors off of La Sotterenea. Subsequently, I saw them perform twice beneath the Van Horne overpass and again on the rooftop of a house show near St. Laurent and Beaubien.
It is apt that this remarkably entertaining band, which encompasses influences across low and high culture, never seems satisfied to be in the middle. Carpet-bombing their hits onstage, Shunk exudes the unmistakable napalm smell of victory.
“I love playing live shows,” says Hill. “It’s my favourite thing in the whole world. I’ve always been like that, since I was a kid. Performing onstage is such a rush — the ultimate rush. It’s so fun. Nothing else can compare to playing a live show. Or in the studio when you make something exactly how you want it, and you just get super excited. Those things are the best.”
“When you’re playing the best you can with your friends, you’re playing in front of people, that feeling is a great high, for sure,” Baylis agrees. “And when we’re writing something really new and all together on this one idea and it’s really sounding good and everybody is on the same page, that’s also really a rare thing to find with people.”
“In that moment,” Vaktor muses, “you’re seeing a new pathway open.”◼︎
Shunk launches Shunkland with Born at Midnite and Flleur 12 March 2025 at La Sotterenea, 4848 Boulevard St. Laurent.
Cover image: Courtesy of Shunk.












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