[…]»Télépathie«reprösentiert einen der spannendsten Aspekte zeitgenössischer Tonkunst, nömlich den der elektronischen Liveimprovisation. Und was Diane Labrosse (Sampler) und A_dontigny (Computer) hier bieten, ist eine der dichtesten und fesselndsten Aufnahmen seit langem. Angesiedelt irgendwo zwischen Ambient, Noise und Glitch, manovrieren die beiden durch einen hochgradig beklemmenden Klangraum, der die perfekte Untermalung für ein Zusammentreffen zwischen Freddy Krueger und Mad Max bieten würde. Aber nur, wenn beide inzwischen promoviert haben.

3. Pierre Labbé is a saxophonist and composer who is active in the Montréal-based musique actuelle (literally “music now”) scene and has played with members of the Canuck-prog band Miriodor. On this, his debut disc as a leader, he and his cohorts split the difference between avant-garde jazz, contemporary composition, and prog, while in the process forging a sound that is uniquely their own. There is a nice balance between the structured rigor of composition and the adrenaline rush of improvisation. The mix of instruments — tenor sax, violin, cello, double bass, electric guitar, and drums — hints at the stylistic breadth the band is capable of. They can sound like a string trio, a swinging jazz group, or an experimental rock band-all within the space of one song. Yet, thanks to Labbé’s clever writing, the juxtaposition of styles is organic and seamless.

[…] For the rigorous-minded: L’Ensemble Pierre Labbé, Risque et pendule (Ambiances Magnétiques). A taut set of twilight-zone compositions by Montréal saxophonist Pierre Labbé, reflecting a safe-cracker’s concentration in this “search for equilibrium by contrast.” Conjuring a sense of disquiet, alleviated by a child’s sense of play, it’s a minefield of futurist angles, rubber-band pizzicatos (from cellist Julie Trudeau and violinist Nathalie Bonin) and creeping suspended-animation (guitarist Bernard Falaise’s edginess). This music is more tenacious than free, more idiosyncratic than “out.” Yet a curiously hypnotic ebb and flow manifests itself in these gambols through these blind alleys.[…]

Tom Walsh has reconstituted NOMA in the dozen years since the group’s first recording. For one thing, it’s no longer a Toronto-Montréal band, but is composed of all Montréal musicians. NOMA is really a double trio of Guy Kaye (guitar), Al Baculis (electric bass), and Thom Gossage (drums) on what Walsh calls “côté cour.” They are the funk side. The jazz-actuelle side, “côté jardin,” is comprised of Rainer Wiens (prepared guitar), Normand Guilbeault (contrebasse), and Pierre Tanguay (drums). Walsh stands in the middle, directs, adds samples, and plays trombone. The music is set on 32 tracks over 61 minutes, and it ranges from very actuelle noodlings to dense funk, to crackling soundscapes, to fairly straight up jazz. Which is to say that Walsh gets a lot out of his musicians. The nice thing is that it all sounds part of a whole, with a general movement from the abstract to the concrete as the music moves along.

Le charme intemporel d’une chanson à la fois impertinente et empreinte d’émotions. La fébrilité d’accompagnateurs (Bernard Falaise, Éloi Deit, Michel F Côté) qui refusent de se laisser mettre en cage. Il y a dans ce disque de la finesse, de l’intelligence et un désir de vous surprendre sans vous perdre. Boris Vian doit sourire dans sa tombe.

D’abord l’objet: un petit coffret qui renferme trois mini-disques compacts. Puis la musique: une rencontre fascinante entre deux innovateurs dont le tourne-disque est l’outil de prédilection. Vingt minutes d’une rencontre en studio, aux textures variant entre l’atmosphérique et le bruitisme brutal. Puis deux remixes aux antipodes des styles de ces deux maîtres.