As a cross-Atlantic outfit — Lori Freedman is based in Montréal, Marilyn Lerner in Toronto and Ig Henneman in Amsterdam — Queen Mab Trio has a world of new music mastered at their fingertips. Through their last few releases, they’ve wavered between chamber music, improvised styling and dashes of jazz. They’re never content to be shuffled into one given category, which makes each new release a surprise for the listener. At the beginning of every record, we ask ourselves, just what musical style will the group head into? So, here we are, at the first piece of their latest release. As I’m listening to the title track, I’m under an impression they’re hovering heavily over new music territory. Freedman’s well placed clarinet blows are interspersed with Henneman’s ear-friendly viola dabbling that are then wrapped up with occasional ivory strokes from Lerner. But then, wait, as I re-listen to the piece, it’s more on the improvised scheme. Well, yes – all three members have writing credits on the track. Something is up. I listen to the piece a few more times and at every turn I’m surprised at how easily they shift between styles. They’re like a sly fox who’s trying to outrun a wolf. Throughout the record, they take sudden shifts in direction at least half a dozen times. Every time this happens, you’re left with a question mark smack in front of your face. Is theirs an exercise in confusion or are they deliberately playing every imaginable style of sound they can get their hands on? Regardless, interplay with each other is marvellously stated. From the crow-like clarinet guffaws, through to the pointed viola clicks, through to the understated piano caresses, these women are working on a higher plane in terms of communication. With such superlative means of communication at work, it’s a shame the record is a mere 43 minutes long. I could listen to what Thin Air offers for hours on end.

Due autentiche orge clarinettistiche sono il tratto dominante di questi ottimi album. Nel primo, Lepage (uno dei fondatori, assieme a Lussier, del collettivo Ambiances Magnétiques, e titolare di oltre una dozzina di album per l’etichetta omonima) esplora — in maniera postmoderna ma non troppo — il repertorio e la poetica di un genio come Pee Wee Russell, musicista trasversale e fuori dal tempo se mai ve ne furono, e lo fa coinvolgendo altri sei colleghi di strumento tra i quali è certo Houle il più noto, anche dalle nsotre parti. Le uniche due incursioni nel repertorio di Russell, in realtà, sono quelle che aprono e chiudono il disco (Pee Wee’s Blues e Muskogee Blues), mentre gli altri dodici brani, tutti composti dal leader, formano una sorta di blues suite che si muove sorniona e ammiccante come una di quelle palle di vetro che, capovolte, lasciano cadere la neve. Con un po’ di immaginazione, si può pensare che questa è la musica che avrebbe fatto Russell nel ventunesimo secolo e, forse, non saremmo tanto lontani dal vero. Il ruolo di Lussier è quello del guastatore, del granello di polvere nell’ingranaggio, a metà strada tra Freddie Green e Eugene Chadbourne. Forse il gioco è tirato un po’ troppo per le lunghe, soprattutto per una certa uniformità di fondo, ma è senza dubbio condotto con maestria. […]

Montréal-based sound artist Martin Tétreault is a complete turntablist. He understands the vinyl player’s anatomy like a gifted surgeon, having crafted sounds and forcefully extracted noises from those golden spinning machines for well over 20 years. But Snipettes! and the accompanied Morceaux Choisis offers a different (and much appreciated) retroactive look at the artist’s utterly outstanding sampling chops.

Initially released in 1992 in the cassette format (limited to 250 copies), Snipettes! and Morceaux Choisis (two seemingly separate projects on the same disc) are absolute joys to discover. Offering more of an honest separation from Martin’s more experimental works, Snipettes! is the golden prize here, with its familiar repertoire sampled from one singular album: Eddie Osborne’s Baldwin Organ & Bongos from the Audio Fidelity label (a cheeky 60s record New York’s WFMU seems to spin all the time as background material). With its rather simplified cheeseball organs and powder room percussions, the album— sampled and shred to pieces in the midst of the sample debates of the early 90s by Tétreault — is a pure sugar spun delight. Heck, I think I’ll throw this on the player alongside Nino Rota’s La Dolce Vita during my next ultra hip supper party. Snipettes! is a true slice of life.

The second half of the release, officially titled Morceaux Choisis 1984-86, is an earlier compilation of experimental works mostly founded on Tétreault’s intuitive stylings, still somewhat primitive par rapport to his current positioning as a masterful turntable manipulator. However, this also proves wildly inventive and joyful with exquisite titles like “Bien-Être Extra-Ordinaire” and “The Political Kurtzweil on the Market” (a track Martin explains as being “a floppy record sliced into four equal pieces and reassembled”). Furthermore, its use of musique concrète serves as a direct polar opposite to the first half’s kitschy sounds.

Tétreault is nothing short of a sampling king in my book, with a wildman technique all his own. And this album easily rivals all works by his pal Kid Koala. It just might be a little cassette classic, coincidentally, much like Koala’s Scratchhappyland.

Curieux parcours que celui du saxophoniste Damian Nisenson: argentin, il a également habité en Suisse et est Montréalais depuis quelques années; musicien féru de jazz et de musiques actuelles, il bénéficia aussi d’une formation de comédien, de clown et d’acrobate, en plus de ses études en histoire, en journalisme et en psychologie! Accompagné du contrebassiste Jean Félix Mailloux et de l’omniprésent Pierre Tanguay à la batterie, il interprète ici huit thèmes originaux plus une pièce traditionnelle, révélant une forte influence de la musique klezmer, est-européenne (Druse dubke), ainsi que de lointains échos du tango (/Paspire). La parenté de pièces comme Hanne et Ojosrojos avec les compositons de John Zorn pour Masada est inévitable, et pourtant le trio leur insuffle une vie propre. La sonorité de Nisenson est chaude et généreuse, aussi bien à l’alto et au ténor qu’au sopranino; son solo sur Carne de mia perna est l’un des meilleurs moments de cet excellent disque.

Certains privilégiés ont toujours la première version en format cassette des albums Snipettes et Morceaux choisis sortis en 1992 au tirage limité de 250.Pour les autres,il aura fallu 15 ans avant de mettre la main sur les premiers enregistrements solos de Martin Tétreault regroupés pour l’occasion sur un seul cd. Depuis ce temps, notre bidouilleur sonore est devenu une sommité du pick-up en enchaînant plus de 25 disques. Si la musique de Tétreault s’est orientée vers le bruitisme, les débuts étaient nettement plus cabotins. D’écoute aisée, cette compil passe d’un hommage à Youri Gagarine aux évocations de la vie préhistorique avec son lot de montages sonores débridés. Un disque essentiel. 5/5

Lynda Gaudreau est chorégraphe et Document 4 est le dernier volet d’un projet, intitulé Encyclopædia, qui a regroupé des artistes de différentes disciplines (danse, vidéo, arts visuels, art sonore et architecture). Le livre rend compte de la démarche, tandis que le disque qu’il contient permet d’entendre les musiques que le platiniste Martin Tétreault a créées pour les spectacles. On est d’un bout à l’autre dans l’exploration bruitiste et le glitch. Dans un autre genre, Ambiances Magnétiques réédite Snipettes, qui regroupe de courtes pièces de Tétreault parues, jadis, en cassette, du temps qu’il utilisait beaucoup la citation (plutôt que le bruit) et l’humour. (3/5)