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Parasites Diane Labrosse, Martin Tétreault

Après l’excellent accueil qu’avait reçu l’album Île bizarre, Diane Labrosse et Martin Tétreault ont décidé de collaborer à nouveau. Le résultat? Parasites.

Membre actif d’Ambiances Magnétiques, Diane Labrosse se retrouve régulièrement, depuis quinze ans, sur les scènes de musique actuelle, improvisée et d’avant-garde. Utilisant l’échantillonneur numérique, elle a un penchant pour le bruitisme et se sert de son instrument dans cette optique.

Martin Tétreault est également un bruitiste. C’est aussi un compositeur de l’instant et un disc jockey. Chercheur assidu, il s’applique à décortiquer la musique telle qu’on la connaît aujourd’hui, pour nous présenter une toute autre réalité, nouvellement façonnée par lui.

La collaboration des deux artistes n’est pas nouvelle. Outre Île bizarre, paru en 1998, qui avait remporté un franc succès dans le milieu, Tétreault est également interprète sur le dernier album de Diane Labrosse, Petit traité de sagesse pratique. Une complicité évidente émane donc du travail de ces deux musiciens.

Parasites permet au duo d’improvisateurs de valoriser les sons parasitaires, en utilisant la spatialisation et le traitement. Labrosse et Tétreault nous proposent une musique proche de la musique électronique encore plus qu’avec Île bizarre qui explorait déjà cette voie.

C’est donc un rendez-vous dans le monde des Parasites!

Parasites

Diane Labrosse, Martin Tétreault

La presse en parle

  • Tobias C van Veen, Incursion Music Review, no 049, 31 mars 2002
    A succinct and playful album of experimental madness which… does not force the listener into obscurity.
  • Bas Ickenroth, KindaMuzik, 2 février 2002
    When at first the soundscape tends to float by leaving anything lasting, at a certain moment you’re just getting into it, and you’ll slowly be sucked in the electronic swamp.

Review

Tobias C van Veen, Incursion Music Review, no 049, 31 mars 2002

Beginning with crackled sound, almost abrasive and entirely disruptive, Labrosse and Tétreault shake the listener into thinking that one is listening to a new work by the electroacoustic duo Interface. But things take an entirely different turn within seconds, and interspersing the sound-cackle-crackles with silence leads the listener to humming and resonating melancholic spaces that can only be properly described as underwater caverns. In these caverns are Cave People; and they are composing music. It is a peaceful time, and by the time track 5, sponger, rolls around — these are very short tracks, all about two minutes or so in length, except for track 11, a coal eye, which is 10 minutes — I am fully immersed in the sketches of sound which paint a visual aura to the impressively wide range of experimentation found from track to track. For example, track 6, insomnia of a bed-bug, disrupts underwater-land and introduces radio static-hum which, in a playful mood, dances with the clicks of a clock. That the elements are cavorting with each other should come as no surprise, for like Interface, Tétreault and Labrosse are a live improv duo; but unlike Interface, they manage to maintain my interest by moving through different phases of sound as well as conceptual environments, easily handling slight noise and static, tones, hums, and clicks. Labrosse, according to the liner notes, works solely with “abstract elements.” I am not sure what the entails in terms of gear, the hazy blue picture of the duo leaves the details indiscernible. Tétreault works directly with turntables: no records, just manipulating the sounds to be found in the decks themselves. Given this palette, both Tétreault and Labrosse manage to construct a dramatic and engaging topology of sound which, for the most part, is in the experimental ambient genre, and in moves of inspired stage magic, know exactly when to end a sound that has lost its ability to engage the listener. A succinct and playful album of experimental madness which, despite — and perhaps because of — its overwhelming undertones of intelligence, does not force the listener into obscurity.

A succinct and playful album of experimental madness which… does not force the listener into obscurity.

Review

Bas Ickenroth, KindaMuzik, 2 février 2002

Turntablism that has absolutely nothing to do with hiphop. These soundconstructions come from the comunity around the Ambiances Magnétiques label, and that information ought to be enough to start some serious drooling on the avant-garde fanatics, such as myself. Diane Labrosse and Martin Tétrault are the soundsculptors on the Parasites album, and their tool, among modern electronic equipment and other toys, is the turntable. Not that it can be identified as such. But there are more unidentifiable aspects: where is the melody? Where is the songstructure? Where ends one track and begins another? The answer to all three: unknown. This completely improvised electronic soundscape varies in atmosphere and texture and does this without adding any kind of melody or structure. And why they bothered to cut things up into 15 tracks and name each track in both English and French as well, we’ll probably never know. I could mention that Bad Amoeba sounds like this and Stop Interfering! like that, but why? The sonic exploration goes by continuesly, without pauses. This adds to the hypnotic effect the music surprisingly has. When at first the soundscape tends to float by leaving anything lasting, at a certain moment you’re just getting into it, and you’ll slowly be sucked in the electronic swamp. And although there is a complete absence of melody or even a steady and comfortable drone, that swamp is far from unpleasant.

When at first the soundscape tends to float by leaving anything lasting, at a certain moment you’re just getting into it, and you’ll slowly be sucked in the electronic swamp.

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