How Lié's Ashlee Luk Is Fighting Patriarchy With Feminist Punk, Outsider Techno

Within minutes of meeting Ashlee Luk at a Vancouver coffee shop it becomes clear — the musician is a having one seriously busy summer.

Not only is Luk the vocalist/guitarist for rising Vancouver post-punk trio Lié — who have just dropped their third frenzied full-length Hounds — the artist is also one-half of acid-tinged dance-music duo Minimal Violence. It's Luk's work with the latter that's led the musician to help co-curate the second annual Current Symposium, a locally based intersectional music and electronic art festival. The event, which kicks off on July 25th, was launched to help break down the homogeny of Vancouver's historically white male–dominated electronic music scene by partnering with various collectives to put on concerts, panels, workshops and film screenings that connect and showcase women and non-binary artists.

"I feel like that is an area where there's a lot of room for outreach, making actual political change through that," says Luk, who identifies as non-binary. "I feel like electronic music goes beyond just music. It's very non-ego driven. It's about a collective experience. [While] I can't quite credit us for a lot of the change I've been seeing, necessarily ... I do feel like there's a shift in the empowerment of women, non-binary, and POCs in electronic music. That's something that we're just happy to be a part of."

But Luk's passion for inciting change isn't confined to their electronic leanings. In the punk sphere, the Lié guitarist — along with bandmates Brittany West (bass/vocals) and Kati Jenson (drums) — wraps their message in a hostile maelstrom of fractured guitar melodies and punch-drunk punk beats. Throughout Hounds' nine-song, socio-political smash-up, Luk and West offer equally heavy observations on toxic relationship dynamics, male ego, self-destructive behavior and more.

Mirroring their hushed/howled vocal approach, Lié's lyrics seemingly ping-pong between perspectives on a particular issue ("It's never 100 percent committed to one or the other, which, to listen to it, might be confusing," Luk admits), resulting in a thought-provoking open-ended narrative tool. Their playful wordplay is also reflected in the title of the new album.

"Hounds is a dual word," Luk explains. "[It's] a slightly negative term for a type of male, but it's also conjuring this image of the South, and this wildness about it. It was just a word that we all settled on that we felt represented a large part of the album."

With Hounds out now via Mint Records/Monofonus Press, Luk let Revolver in on how a recording retreat in Austin, TX freed the band up to make some of their most powerful, if poppy, material yet, and why their earlier work has become even more potent with age.

IT'S BEEN A BUSY YEAR FOR LIÉ. EVEN BEFORE DELIVERING HOUNDS, YOU RE-RELEASED [2014 DEBUT ALBUM] CONSENT IN FEBRUARY. SINCE THAT WAS TECHNICALLY TWO RELEASES AGO, WHAT WAS THE IDEA BEHIND BRINGING MORE ATTENTION TO THAT ALBUM IN PARTICULAR?
ASHLEE LÚK I feel like the content of the album is still resonant right now, maybe more so than when it was initially released. Post #MeToo, revisiting it makes sense. We had been speaking with Mint about working with them, and that was something that came up, the idea of re-releasing [Consent]. It never really saw Canadian distribution. It was a friend of ours in Austin who had released it, on a small label, 300 copies, and maybe 40 came to Canada. We thought it deserved another go.

THERE'S AN OVER-ARCHING THEME TO THE ALBUM, BUT WERE THERE ANY SPECIFIC SONGS THAT SEEM MORE POIGNANT NOW?
"Sorry" definitely still resonates, but it did at the time, too. I think it's something that I've continued to reflect on, throughout everything that's happen in the past year: How relevant that song is, how unfortunate the reality of the message is. "Sorry" is an example of my writing style. I tend to step out of myself and try to step into, in this case, the position of the aggressor, and sing from that perspective. "Sorry" comes from the point of view of an abuser, and their perception of that reality. To listen to it is to really see how intensely wrong that is.

THAT'S SOMETHING THAT THE NEW ALBUM'S "COUNTRY BOYS" ALSO TAPS INTO SOMEWHAT, THAT PERSONA AND PERSPECTIVE.
It's not that it's not dark content, but it's more of a light-hearted approach; "Sorry" was pretty in-your-face. When I write, I like to embody a persona and step into different roles. I find it's easier to write that way. It's almost like painting a visual, and using that to create the story. "Country Boys" stemmed from this visual of the South, this very alpha male kind of figure. The suave, movie portrait of a male. It's coming from that perspective of singing a typical love song, but from an honestly sleazy perspective, and just breaking down that persona.

HOUNDS OPENER "BETTER SEX," BY TITLE ALONE, SOUNDS LIKE IT WOULD BE AN OPTIMISTIC SONG, BUT THAT'S NOT EXACTLY THE CASE.
The opening lines to "Better Sex" are actually attached to the opening of The Story of O [French author Anne Desclos' 1954 novel on female submission]. From there, it shifts to ... I mean, the song is about being in a complacent relationship, and just witnessing somebody who doesn't want to push beyond that. There is a way in my head that it is attached to that opening segment, but it's not so direct.

BEING THAT BOTH YOURSELF AND BRITTANY WRITE LYRICS, DO YOU CONFER MUCH WITH EACH OTHER? WHAT'S THE RELATIONSHIP LIKE?
A lot of Brittany's songs, I find out her lyrics when we're recording. Or I'll sing them wrong with her for half the year, and then she corrects it [in the studio]. In cases like "Birthday Party" and "Can't Get Enough" [both songs on which Lúk sings lead], Britt also sings on choruses. In those situations, we have to have conversations about the lyrical content. I don't write the part that she'll sing in the chorus. We'll have a conversation about what the song is about and what it means, and then she'll write her part based on that. That's only lyrics. From there on, all three of us write collectively.

THIS IS LIÉ'S THIRD ALBUM. DID YOU HAVE ANY SPECIFIC IDEAS ON HOW YOU WANTED TO GROW, SONICALLY OR THEMATICALLY?
We took a few different approaches while recording, and spent more time crafting an aesthetic to the sound — working with harnessing feedback; different effects, and stuff like that. We'd been pretty straight to the punch before. We still recorded this live off the floor, but included a lot more overdubbing. I think we were less shy this time about embracing melody. In some ways, the album is harder than our previous albums, but in other ways it's also embracing softer elements.

Lié, Mint Records Showcase, 2018

photograph by Pat Valade

WHERE DO YOU SEE THE SOFTNESS?
"Country Boys" and "Birthday Party" both lean on pop-punk elements that we would have been adamantly against in the past. I feel like there's something charming about a melody, as much as I'd like to resist it.

YOU RECORDED OUTSIDE OF VANCOUVER THIS TIME AROUND?
We recorded in Austin with Ian Rundell from Ghetto Ghouls, and it was a really great experience.

IS THIS THE FIRST TIME YOU'VE RECORDED OUTSIDE OF THE CITY?
We had previously recorded on Gabriola Island, BC with Jordan Koop, and we really liked the experience of being stuck somewhere for a week. We wanted to cultivate that again. We've had a connection to Austin for a long time. We've had more of a reception in Austin than in Vancouver. Both of our [U.S.] labels have been from Austin. We've had tons of support out there, and some of the shows have been the best attended of tour. And the sound that we like tends to resonate with a ton of the bands out there, like Institute, Ghetto Ghouls, and Crooked Bangs. So we thought it made sense to go record with somebody who's been recording that sound.

WHAT WAS IT LIKE TO BE IN AUSTIN FOR A LONGER STRETCH THAN JUST PULLING IN, LOADING IN AND OUT, AND HITTING THE NEXT CITY?
It was hot. We were there in August. Basically, we'd get up every morning and Will [Slack], who runs Monfonus Press, would pick us up. We stayed at the compound they have in this house that had the most massive cockroaches I've ever seen. Every morning he'd pick us up with a bag of tacos and we'd just go spend the day recording, and then come back chill out outdoors. We didn't go out to a lot of stuff — we went to a show or two.  I really like Austin outside of SXSW, it's a completely different vibe. It's very chill. On the very last day of the recording, [Ian Rundell] and his friends took us to the river to go fishing. We all had to throw out our shoes afterwards — we didn't realize it was the type of river you have to wade into, with the water snakes.

photograph by Lauren Ray

HOW MUCH OF THE MUSIC ON HOUNDS WAS SHAPED THERE?
Most of it was fully formed, [but] I tend to write a lot of lyrics at the last minute. Lyrically, "Country Boys" was fully written there. That was definitely informed by my surroundings.

YOU ALSO MAKE MUSIC WITH MINIMAL VIOLENCE, WHICH IS A VERY DIFFERENT KIND OF PROJECT FROM LIÉ. YOU'D PREVIOUSLY FOOLED AROUND WITH AMBIANCE WITH EFFECTS PEDALS FOR YOUR //ZOO PROJECT. DID GOING THROUGH THE EXPERIENCE OF MAKING ELECTRONIC MUSIC WITH MINIMAL VIOLENCE HAVE ANY EFFECT ON HOW YOU APPROACH YOUR GUITAR PLAYING IN LIÉ?
I feel like the experience with Minimal Violence has made me more aware of acoustic architecture. We record all the Minimal Violence stuff ourselves — it's constantly mixing and producing. I feel like that has brought me a lot closer to understanding how to get the sounds that we want to get Lié. It was always so removed before. Even with //Zoo, the process was, "I'm going to write these songs, and someone else is going to record and mix them." Brittany has also been working a lot more in electronic music, too, with Sigsaly. [This time] we had a stronger concept of how we wanted the album to sound, sonically. I don't necessarily think that that is reflective of my guitar playing, but just of the overall sound.

IS THERE MUCH CROSSOVER IN VANCOUVER, SCENE-WISE, BETWEEN WHAT YOU'RE DOING WITH MINIMAL VIOLENCE AND LIÉ?
That crossover exists, but there's never a show that has both. So we're trying that for our record release, and we'll see how that goes. I think there is tons of crossover right now with people who are informed by heavier, more guitar-based music moving into the realm of electronic music, which is super exciting. I don't know ... people who are just from a techno purist background — "I've listened to electronic music forever and I'm going to make electronic music forever!"— come at it in such a formulaic way that it just produces this functional, boring dance music. I find people from a punk background approach it as, "I want to make noise and then figure out how to make it sound like something." There's no formula to it. There doesn't have to be a 32 bar intro. I find that very exciting.

WHAT ARE THE PLANS WITH MINIMAL VIOLENCE. LIÉ IS A TOURING BAND, DOES MINIMAL VIOLENCE HEDGE INTO THAT TERRITORY AS WELL?
We've been touring quite a bit — we went to Europe twice in a month just a while ago. We're currently in the process of finishing up our full-length. Hopefully that's out in the fall. It's going to be released by Technicolour.

Lié, Mint Records Showcase, 2018

photograph by Pat Valade

THE CURRENT FESTIVAL YOU HELP PROGRAM HAS AN ELECTRONIC MUSIC SLANT, BUT IT'S GROWING THIS YEAR TO ALSO INCLUDE FILM SCREENINGS. COULD IT ALSO GROW TO INVOLVE MORE ORGANIC MUSIC?
We're working with Girls Rock Camp this year. They're doing a pedal workshop, which kind of crosses over between using elements of organic music to create something more underground. [Organic music]'s not ruled out. It hasn't been considered yet, but it's definitely not something that's ruled out.

NOW THAT HOUNDS IS READY FOR CONSUMPTION, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE RECORD, WITH LITTLE BIT OF HINDSIGHT BEHIND YOU?
I feel good about the album, sonically, but also content wise. One of the closest songs to me is "Can't Get Enough," which just deals with moving past a certain point in your life, this mentality that I find a lot of people in the music industry get into, especially in your 20s, with partying and keeping up a certain lifestyle. [The song is about] growing out of that, learning to move past that, or fighting with moving past that. That's something I'm really glad to have included on the album, to have as part of the narrative.

DID YOU HAVE TO FIGHT PAST THAT, TO GROW OUT OF SOMETHING UNHEALTHY?
Yeah, definitely. I don't live a perfectly clean lifestyle, but I think that it's just about getting out of the cycle of partying for the sake of partying, and learning to address when that's healthy and when it's not. I'm somebody who's toyed with both ends of the spectrum. I've gone through periods of having a very unhealthy lifestyle. I've also gone through years of complete abstinence, and touring sober for years. There's nothing wrong with that. I think it's just about finding the balance.