If you’re a fan of post-rock, chances are you’ve already been haunted by Jessica Moss’s violin.
A longtime pillar of Montreal’s music scene, Moss was a core member of Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra, the ensemble led by Godspeed You! Black Emperor’s Efrim Menuck. With the release of her powerful new solo album Unfolding, Moss is stepping boldly into the spotlight, intertwining music and activism in a way that demands attention.
Born in Canada and raised in a Jewish family in Toronto in a home rich in song and political awareness, Moss was destined for a life in music. Her mother decided that she would have music lessons before she was even born, and her father played in political bands. As a teen she gravitated to Montreal, and by the late 1990s she found herself among the Constellation Records scene, the nucleus of underground music in the city. She joined Thee Silver Mt. Zion in 2001, and co-founded Black Ox Orkestar, a quartet blending punk ethos with klezmer and Balkan sounds, exploring Jewish diasporic music from an anti-fascist perspective, cementing her reputation as a dynamic team player in Montreal’s post-rock and avant-garde circles.
She soon became one of Montreal’s greatest collaborators, and her strings can be heard gracing Arcade Fire’s landmark album Funeral and Broken Social Scene’s Feel Good Lost, as well as appearing on recordings from Godspeed You! Black Emperor and many others, enhancing the work of countless peers with her signature strings.
In 2015 she released her first solo cassette, Under Plastic Island, and has released six full-length records on Constellation Records since 2017, steadily honing her distinctive sonic approach. On stage and in studio, Moss uses looping technology and effects to layer her violin, building rich tapestries of sound that often start from solitary melodies or drones and blossom into a stunning combo of post-classical minimalism, folk, ambient, noise and metal. A one-woman orchestra summoned on the fly, Moss stands alone amid a tangle of pedals, coaxing loops upon loops of crackling distortion and reverberant harmonies, by turns meditative, raw, and transcendent. Moss was the supporting act for experimental rock legends Swans on their 2023-25 tours, standing alone armed with just her violin and a few small bells and chimes, captivating crowds and reminding audiences each night that “No one is free until all of us are free.”
Unfolding (released October 2025) is dedicated to “a free Palestine in our lifetime". Moss is a committed anti-Zionist who co-founded the local chapter of Musicians For Palestine in Montreal, organising benefit concerts and other actions. She donated 100% of the proceeds from her album For UNRWA to humanitarian relief, and all of these experiences fed into the creation of Unfolding, drawing on both Jewish and Arabic musical modes to acknowledge the intertwined cultures at the heart of the conflict. The album is a haunting and powerful prayer for solidarity and liberation, transforming anguish into art. Jessica Moss is a beacon of authenticity in the music world, seamlessly marrying the personal and political, drawing from her own emotions and heritage to speak to the broader struggle for justice, and we had to speak to her to find out more:
Hi Jessica, thanks for speaking with us! Can you talk about the ways in which you’ve seen music and activism intertwine throughout your career?
There’s never really been a separation between what I feel and engage with in the world, and what I do musically. Both of my main bands were explicitly politically engaged, and from that foundation I built a later-in-life solo career on music that similarly comes from a place of deep reflection on the political realities around us. Music has been the best way I’ve found to stay connected with others who are living in resistance.
Do you feel like the role of artists becomes more important as our collective political situation becomes more desperate?
I don’t think that artists' roles become more important than any other worker participating in the system; I believe every contribution that refuses neutrality or status quo adds to the collective dialogue we need. I do believe as art-makers we have an opportunity to create and offer collective spaces in a unique way, and maybe that element feels like it becomes more important. But I do resoundingly believe that no matter what we do, we all have a responsibility to live and work in a way that reflects our morals, and that modelling this even on a very small level does have a meaningful impact.
Can you talk about your recent tour with Swans and what you took from the experience?
I hadn't known what to expect when I embarked; I felt intimidated and unsure conceptually. But ultimately it was a really positive experience for me. On a personal level, I found deep camaraderie with a new group of ‘tour lifers’ ; I’m so often on my own with what I do and it was so nice to share the experience. On an artistic level, I found the Swan’s audiences welcoming and beautifully open to what I came to present on stage, and I think for the show experience it made for a good match in terms of complementary forces. I’m very grateful to have had the opportunity to spend that time with them.
How much of your live show is improvisational?
It depends a lot on the circumstance. For example this last tour, I intentionally kept my set short bc I knew that there was a very intense 2 ½ hour experience following mine. So when I want to be concise like that I plan each minute out pretty carefully, but that plan does include a lot of improvisation within it so each show still feels unique in that way. When I am the headliner and have more room to expand, there are many more moments of pure improvisation, where I can respond to the specific room, the specific moment in time, along with the particular energy that particular audience brings to the experience.
What do you hope that people get from listening to Unfolding?
I can dream that someone could listen and feel connected from within their own internal landscape. That it could feel like messages of companionship coming through the ether in an other-worldy way. That it could feel like communication on a communal cellular level.