Although city-block-sized modern buildings dominate the townscape, it's instantly clear that Montréal is not typical north America. Home of the Arcade Fire, poutine and The National Film Board Of Canada, this is the heart of Quebec, proud of its Francophone culture, which it celebrates yearly at Les FrancoFolies de Montréal - a collective noun covering 144 separate shows over nine days at the Théâtre Maisonneuve and nine close-by clubs and theatres.

Now in its 22nd year, FrancoFolies' remit is straightforward. "The idea is to celebrate the music, it's not about genres," explains programming director Laurent Saulnier. "It's important for us to bring people from all the Francophone world - Belgium, Madagascar, even Cedric Watson from Louisiana. We have to fight to keep the language alive in North America. We are only six million in a continent with 300 million speaking English." In Montréal, 65% of the population have French as their first language.

The 2010 festival brings together French legend Jacques Higelin, singing actress and Mrs Roman Polanski - she can travel while he's under house arrest - Emmanuelle Seigner, Gallic up-and-comer Arnaud Fleurent-Didier, Salif Keita and rapper Oxmo Puccino, both from Mali, and Algeria's Rachid Taha. There's also a raft of established and upcoming French-Canadians, including Coeur De Pirate and the compelling Pierre Lapointe. Robert Charlebois first made a mark in the late '60s, while the currently-countrified Renée Martel was '60's Canada's swingingest yé-yé girl. Saulnier isn't exaggerating - most aspects of French music are here.

Amongst the top draws is Beninois singer Angélique Kidjo. At the largest outdoor stage, L'Espace Ford, Kidjo puts on a big show - a really big show. Relentless and movement-filled, dancers dance and she never lets up. But it's so exhaustingly showbiz that any edge has been lost. More satisfying is Salif Keita at Métropolis, a venue similar to Kentish Town's Forum. His band makes show, but Keita stands apart from the action, a commanding presence demanding attention amongst the hustle-bustle. More sunny overall is Mali's Bassekou Kouyate, acclaimed as the Hendrix of his country's plinky native ngoni, with entrancing songs too.

Equally charming is Canada's own Béatrice Martin (pictured above). As Coeur De Pirate she's been cleaning up in French Canada since early 2009 with her piano-led, confessional overhaul of chanson. Her show at L'Espace Ford is a one-off with local outfit The Stills. Despite a torrential rainstorm, she shines, her songs given a surprising power-pop makeover.

At Club Soda - a quarter-size analogue of the Shepherd's Bush Empire - Mara Tremblay sings in French, but brings a country slant to the classic Gallic arc of her songs. She is great, but those two guys duelling on Telecasters either side of her are an unnecessary distraction. The songs are enough.

For Pierre Lapointe the songs are all. He plays with his band at Club Soda and also manages a mesmerising solo show at the grand piano in the huge Théâtre Maisonneuve. A massive Québécoise star, he occupies a unique place in world pop - remaking chanson with a dash of Pulp and David Bowie. He is extraordinary live, content to stand still, sing and let the mood of his songs roll off the stage. Utterly magical.

With the local bar set high, the French visitors have to be on their toes. Arnaud Fleurent-Didier's recent album La Reproduction - a ruthless dissection of the experience of growing up in the '70s - has been a talking point in France. Live, Fleurent-Didier and his band are looser, less forensic: a literary French-language Air drawing from Initials BB-period Gainsbourg. The audience, however, aren't keen on his comment about being in the land of Céline Dion.

Equally literate, but more in the traditional story-chanson mode is Paris's magnificent La Grande Sophie - aptly monikered since she is called Sophie, and she is rather tall. Her energetic two-handed show is warm, engaging; even when acting out parts of her songs, she isn't embarrassing. Chanson is safe in her hands, and Montréal seems to agree. Just don't mention Céline Dion.

Kieron Tyler

Coeur De Pirate and Salif Keita photographed by Victor Diaz Lamich.