Polo Lewis’s Propulsive Pop Channels the Warm Melancholy of Youthful Ennui

During the dark days of the pandemic, Julian “Fatsound” Clarke and Ephram Markovitch started playing free shows in the heart of Kensington Market. Flanked by two-foot speakers and equipped with keyboards and drum machines, they planted themselves out front of a newly-opened cannabis shop on Augusta, Eph on vocals, Julian — standing a full foot taller than his partner — handling the instruments and production. Between zippy original pop tracks blending R&B hooks with tightly-coiled breakbeats, they’d throw in a PinkPanthress cover or a mini-Dj set. 

Colourful and propulsive, the music was a potent antidote to the drabness of the lockdown. Crowds were quick to form, spilling onto the street below the iconic sign for the now-defunct FAIRLAND green grocer. 

“Imagine you’re just out walking and you come across this full-on, like, pop production going on — it was pretty weird.” Julian tells me. “This was at a time when there was no other live music happening, so little groups of like 10 or 20 would gather, and watch the whole set.”

“It was probably the best marketing we’ve ever done,” Eph adds.

Chatting music over iced Earl Grey tea at a cafe in Kensington this summer, Julian and Eph make for a spirited pair, bouncing ideas off each other and occasionally finishing each other’s sentences. After chatting for a few minutes, it was clear their musical alchemy stems from their breezy friendship.

Born and raised in Toronto, Julian is a drummer by trade. Steeped in the city’s jazz and hip hop scenes, he’s performed alongside Toronto acts like Odario, Lex Leosis, Savannah Ré and many more. One summer, he linked up with Eph, a Vancouver transplant, whose solo work leans into R&B. Jamming together in the studio, they accidentally started making bright and high-tempo songs with sticky hooks. At first, they balked — “pop music has this weird stigma about it, like it’s too corporate,” Eph recalls — but something seemed to click. These songs were infectious, and somehow sharper-edged than your average post-Drake and post-Taylor fare.

Over the years, the duo continued to craft their sound, experimenting with vocal pitching, liquidy drum and bass beats, and splashes of synthetic hyperpop, drawing influence from artists like Erika de Casier, Mura Masa, and the PC Music collective. The songs were sincere, but slightly off-kilter, built for the radio but too weird to generate airplay. 

Eventually, they decided to name the project Polo Lewis — an animated alter-ego, à la Gorillaz or Major Lazer. Designed and animated by Eph, Polo Lewis is a mix of both musicians, they explain, both in terms of looks and personality.

“He’s set back 10 years, though,” Julian explains, “so he’s in his early 20s instead of his early 30s.”

“With these songs, we’re projecting ourselves back into what it was like to be that age, when you don’t necessarily have next month's rent figured out, but you’re still trying to make it as an artist, trying to put out music so people don’t forget about you,” he says.

On Oct. 2, Julian and Eph will release their debut EP as Polo Lewis, a project titled Who Is Polo Lewis? Though it’s been six years in the making, the project is not only worth the wait, but sounds like nothing else coming out of Toronto right now.

Across five crisply-paced tracks, Julian’s production and sound design glimmers, with each snare, kick, and bass note meticulously arranged and filtered to pop through your speakers. On tracks like “Right Back,” Eph’s voice slides like butter over a skittering garage beat, his voice pitched up a couple octaves into a youthful croon. 

"We’re not really interested in making stuff that sounds like everyone else,” Julian says. 

“Yeah, we like to challenge ourselves,” Eph adds. “What’s the next mountain we can climb, what’s a new genre we can play around with?”

As the listener’s animated friend, Polo is going through it, moving through the ups and downs of trying to make it as a young musician in the big city: navigating heartbreak, rebounding from failure, doing his best to avoid slipping into social media-induced nihilism.

“I woke up in rough shape / Another damn day I / Rolled out of bed I / Smiled through the pain,” Polo sings on “AWESOME,” his voice jaded but sincere. As the song progresses, his bitterness fades, only to be washed away by a rapid burst of euphoric synths.

“This EP is about feeling like you're stuck, whether that’s in a relationship or in your career, and we hope listeners can find elements of their own struggle in that.” says Eph. “The grind doesn’t have to be lonely. Polo is a pal, he’s a friend, someone you can relate to, even though he's on his own journey.”

“It’s also a love letter to Toronto,” says Julian. “This is where we cut our teeth, where we had our formative memories, and we just want to share the stories that we’ve collected over the years, and show what it's like to be an independent artist in this city.”