With his staunch belief in music as a tool for political change and enlightenment, Québécois troubadour Émile Bilodeau could be a ’60s-era folk-rock crusader, though his swagger (and his cherubic mug) betray the fact that he was born on the cusp of Gen Z. He recorded his first collection of songs—en français, bien sur—as a teen in the early 2010s, and by 2016 had realized a dream by opening for fellow franco-pop chansonnier Philippe Brach, whose dynamism informs Bilodeau’s own tunes. With wry candor, Bilodeau tackles emotional truths—about climate change, Québécois sovereignty, girls who’ve done him wrong—delivering his bons mots over a tersely strummed guitar.