In total contrast Chevreuil is a favourite of the label. A lot of it sounds like a classic 70’s experimental French LP to me. It’s really extroverted and joyous music, with some totally bizarre events, alien voices and disturbing noises turning into some absolutely crazy “songs”. The wealth of instruments and ideas on this CD all add up to a wonderful listening experience.

Two stalwarts ot the Eastern Canadian Jazz scene join forces on La Vie qui bat, chevreuil. Guitarist René Lussier and percussionist Pierre Tanguay perform a duet that combines multiple instrumentation, voice, theater, a background chorus, and an odd twist on originality. When they are having fun, the music takes on a lighthearted demeanor with happy voice insertions and rhythmic lines, but when they get serious the music turns complex, sullen, and intricate. These artists are about turning sounds into a musical experience, even it the music is not easily accessible and the experience is demanding Lussier is a creative improviser, using the saw-like daxophone as well as the guitar to continuously alter the direction ot the music. It can be wild and wooly, or relatively calm, but it is constantly changing and ambitious. The tully improvised portions at hrst seem directionless, but it all seems to tie together as Lussier invades strange and unusual realms ot pure sound Tanguay plays a wide array of percussion instruments and drums that add to the intricacy of the improvisations. Yet, just as quickly they put on their tun-loving iaces to add a carnival atmosphere to the periormance. Ten selections, grouped as Le catalogue, are 20 to 50 second alternating outbursts oi solo sound as each artist switches instruments to create a quilt oi many musical colors. Musicians trom Canada continue to impress the Jazz world, and Lussier and Tanguay are among the most impressive.

If you can get past track 2 (Salade du chef), which sounds like a long-lost, white French-speaking Fat Boys track (complete with corny mouth rythms), La vie qui bat. Chevreuil is actually pretty cool. Generally the quality of any given track on this disc can be plotted inversely to the level to which it posesses vocals, but fortunately only a fraction of the album is vocal-ridden. The majority of tracks are smart, well-executed instrumental improvisations made from Lussier’s guitar and Tanguay’s drum set. If you liked Lussier’s excellent soundtrack to the film Chronique d’un génocide annoncé you’ll probably be able to indulge the occasional musical fumble on La vie qui bat. Chevreuil.

Deux disques, un duo, deux improvisateurs, un même esprit. Tellement, qu’il en résulte deux instruments, maniés du début à la fin de mains à la fois expertes et fofolles, semblant découler l’un de l’autre. Et nous avons là, que diable, une guitare et une batterie! Rien de plus, rien de moins. Sur Chèvre, Lussier poursuit sa quête de narrativité en nous «interprétant» la vie d’un quadrupéde qui ne sait plus trop sur quel pied danser. Déséquilibrante aventure qui nous amène ludiquement dans les méandres parfaitement imbriqués d’échanges époustouflants entre deux musiciens hors pair.

Chevreuil allait-il être de la même veine, les deux enregistrements faisant pareillement reference aux Fables à Grégoire? Eh bien non.

Dans ce second enregistrement du duo, la vie bat réellement. Déja, on note que les deux partenaires complètent leurs attirails (daxophone, guimbarde, théière, appeaux, voix). Et puis, il y a ces histoires, amusantes, délirantes, voire caustiques. On se sent revenu à la grande époque du duo Lussier / Derome. Oui, les Granules. Méme spontanéité, même humour, même aptitude à communiquer la folie douce et décapante de La Vie qui bat avec l’auditeur. qui cette fois-ci, adhère sans restriction aux propositions du duo.

La Vie qui bat, celle du chevreuil et celle de la chèvre, c’est la musique de la vie animale. C’est «pété». C’est fou, joyeusement. Ce sont autant de fables qu’il y a de morceaux. C’est Lussier qui roucoule, par guitare interposée, comme une grenouille. C’est Tanguay qui rythme, par batterie interposée, la vie du petit cheval.

La Vie qui bat, volume 1 et volume 2, c’est «de l’improvisation libre. C’est une entente: on s’assoit et on improvise dans le respect de l’autre. C’est une histoire de confiance musicale. Ce n’est pas du jazz. Ce sont des rythmes, des notes. C’est libre de références. C’est comme trippé. Ce n’est pas manufacturé. C’est le plaisir qu’on recherche à faire de belles choses ensemble».

Guitariste éclectique, compositeur très sensible, arrangeur plein d’humour, animateur, militant, acteur… René Lussier est davantage qu’un musicien. Il est artiste.

La vie qui bat: Chevreuil (“The Beating Life: Dear”) was released at the same time and on the same label as La vie qui bat: Chèvre, but the two could hardly be less alike (except for the fact that they both feature guitarist René Lussier and drummer Pierre Tanguay). While Chèvre contains dense and serious free improvisations with Lussier playing acoustic guitar, Chevreuil is mostly made of written songs and/or prepared improvisations with the same musician on anything but that instrument. It shows the clownish side of the duo, an approach strongly reminiscent of Lussier’s work with Jean Derome during the 1980s in Les Granules. When the pieces are not thoroughly written like Salade du Chef (“Chef’s Salad”), La toune dure (“The Tough Tune”), or La vie qui bat they are at least planned ahead. Of this latter category the best example is the suite Le Catalogue, made of very short improvs on predetermined animal-related themes. Other tracks like Le Chameau (“The Camel”) and L’Éléphant (“The Elephant”) follow the same path: humorous improvised impressions. Lussier favors the electric guitar and the daxophone. Written pieces are songs in a similar vein to what the Derome/Lussier duo recorded: dismembered, funny and never meant to be taken seriously. Vocals are an integrated part of the instrumentation, which is not the case on the other CD. This one feels like two friends kidding around — two very talented musicians-friends, that is. Those looking for engaging improvisation will be disappointed, but fans of Lussier’s lighter side will find La vie qui bat: Chevreuil a suitable follow-up to Les Granules’ Au royaume du silencieux.

• Declan O’Driscoll, Rubberneck, no. 28, February 1, 1998