The intriguingly named Mecha Fixes Clocks is an ongoing project of the Montréal percussionist Michel F Côté. It’s a sort of pseudonym, cleverly sharing initials with the composer, and a bit of an explosion of personality, taking a seemingly very introverted approach to music-making and exploding it onto sometimes as many as a dozen performers. And it is, maybe, a sort of methodology, a working process that has been suggested by the composer as a repair shop with musicians as mechanics working to patch up a century already in disrepair. It’s a big job and, for that matter, a pretty huge clock.

From the challenging and ever-changing groups Bruire and Klaxon Gueule to his own evocative works (see Flat fourgonnette (Mescal Free Style), his fascinating take on American song), Côté has excelled at soundscape-with-subtext, and the Mecha Fixes Clocks records might be his most strangely expressive yet. Teoria dell’elasticità di Girolamo Papariello, the third Mecha disc, was recorded live in studio in 2010 and then mixed and constructed by Côté. Consistent yet irregular rhythms run through the seven tracks and backing drones that seem electronic but may be provided by the small string section adhere the improvising instruments, which are allowed to play free jazz at times but never to dominate. At other moments, the strings rise into a proper quartet against the softly banging buzzing of an upright bass. Of course any of those could also be the turntables of Martin Tétrault, so deftly set in the mix as to become a virtual trompe l’oreille.

Côté also has a knack for drawing from different areas of Montréal’s music scene, and this 11-piece assembly of Mecha Fixes Clocks includes Lori Freedman and Philippe Lauzier on bass clarinets, Elwood Epps on trumpet, Josh Zubot and Jean René on strings, Alexandre St-Onge on contrabass and Bernard Falaise on electric guitar. It’s a deep and woody band, never quite fired up, certainly never uptempo, and yet always moving forward, like a clock, perhaps, viewed under a microscope.

Ça a été l’un des concerts les plus costauds, sur le plan sonore, auxquels j’ai pu assister au Festival international de musique actuelle de Victoriaville. Le genre qui s’écoute avec des bouchons, quitte à perdre quelques fréquences. La guitare de Richard Pinhas était complètement noyée dans le mix, et même le tonitruant Merzbow semblait disparaître sous la déferlante du trio Wolf Eyes. Hé bien, la magie du disque remet tous ces éléments à leur place; on entend du sax, de la guitare et même de la voix entre les nappes de sons transistorisés qui s’entremêlent avec pas mal plus de subtilité que la tonne de briques reçue en concert. Le développement de cette musique improvisée est nettement plus dynamique ici et ce noise s’écoute fort bien.

I thought I knew most improvisers and composers that are around in Montréal, because of the numerous CDs by Ambiances Magnétiques that slipped through my hands over the years. However the name Nicolas Caloia is new to me. He works as a performer, composer and organizer in this city. The Ratchet Orchestra is one of his projects and also his best known one, since he started it around 1990. It is a big orchestra of 30 musicians: Jean Derome (bass flute, piccolo, flute), Craig Dionne (flute), Lori Freedman (clarinet), Gordon Krieger (bass clarinet), Christopher Cauley (soprano sax), Louisa Sage (alto sax), Damián Nisenson (tenor sax), Jason Sharp (bass sax), Ellwood Epps (trumpet), Philippe Battikha (trumpet), Tom Walsh (trombone), Scott Thomson (trombone), Jacques Gravel (trombone), Thea Pratt (E flat horn), Eric Lewis (huphonium), Noah Countability (sousaphone), Gabriel Rivest (tuba), Joshua Zubot (violin), Guido Del Fabbro (violin), Brigitte Dajczer (violin), Jean René (viola), Gen Heistek (viola), Norsola Johnson (cello), Nicolas Caloia (bass), Chris Burns (guitar), Sam Shalabi (guitar), Guillaume Dostaler (piano), Ken Doolittle (percussion), Michel Bonneau (conga), Isaiah Ceccarelli (drums), John Heward (drums). Yes, one needs to be a hell of an organizer to bring together so many musicians! With this orchestra Caloia experiments with improvised chamber music and jazz. Hemlock is the third release of this project that started as a quintet. Recorded in three days in May, 2011. For the Sun Ra tribute in 2007 Live at the Sala Rossa Caloia expanded the line up to what it is now. The compositions by Caloia are well-constructed and move within known territories. Some parts are very open for improvisation, others not. Some compositions — Winnow and Yield — are not very surprising, others however are very appealing like Dusty and the title track. The recording and mixing is ok. One hear and enjoy all participants, all sounds and colors coming from their instruments. Although this music is consumed best in a live performance. Caloia uses a wide spectrum of sounds by continuously making different combinations of instruments and arrangements. The full span of possibilities that are contained in this big band of reputed players come into being.

Ich muss die Buchstaben erst etwas zurecht schütteln, um bestätigt zu finden, was anfangs einigermaßen rätselhaft klingt. Ja, Alexandre St-Onge spielt auf Ailleurs (EZ 18) basse électrique assistee par ordinateur, also E-Bass & Computer. Er schrappelt die Saiten, und der Rechner generiert saußende und sirrende Wooshes, Triller, klirrende, zischende und jaulende Sounds. Als wäre man in ein Meeting von R2D2s geraten, bei dem es heiß her geht, eine Klimakonferenz viel- leicht, was weiß ich. Diese effektvolle Sonic Fiction führt jedenfalls anderswohin, weg von üblichen Bassfunktionen, hinein in ein elektro- nisches Abenteuer. Mit sprudelnden und zirpenden Klängen, tröpfeln- den und klingelnden Lauten, zu denen sich beim besten Willen kein irdisches Ambiente mehr assoziieren lässt. Nicht hier, nicht da, son- dern fern, abgeschieden und fremd. Größer als die Nullen und Einsen leuchtet da ein X, das für xeno steht. Gefragt sind Xenolinguisten, denn St-Onge seltsame Lautwelt hat etwas Sprechendes, eine Art Sprac- hrhythmus, rhetorische Akzente auf der Basslinie und um die Basslinie herum. Bei À L’écart und Pas là gibt es zwar auch die Anmutung ir- discher Melodievorstellungen, aber wie zerlegt von einem Überset- zungsprogramm, das mühsam hinter dem sinnvollen Tempo her hinkt. Komisch ist dennoch, das da etwas Elegisches, eine gewisse Tristesse als Stimmung durchaus sich vermittelt. Ein universaler ET-ismus, die von Hier wollen fort, die von Dort wollen heim.

A suite of five pieces repeated four times. At each repetition, I scratched, twisted, dislocated, polluted, deboned, objected. A record about exhaustion, saturation and sinking. So beschreibt Bernard Falaise selbst das, was er da als S’enfouir (ET 19) konstruiert hat. Bass, Keyboards, Gitarre, Klavier, Flöten, eine Sprechstimme oder was auch immer, womöglich auch nur Samples davon, dekonstruiert, kannibalisiert, verdreht, geloopt, anagramma- tisch permutiert, umgestellt, zerrüttet, verstümmelt, abgestumpft, zer- mulmt. Aus ‘ruine’ wird ‘nuire’, ‘urne’’, ‘ri’ und ‘zuletzt ‘nu’, ich nenne das keine Karriere. Aber durchaus eine Philosophie, ein Sicheingraben in die Variabilität des Ruins, ein Sichvertiefen in Variationen des Schei- terns und des Schwunds. Jedoch den Kreislauf ebenso bejahend wie die Transformation — beides als nackte Wahrheiten, die man letztlich nur mit einem Lachen quittieren kann. Die Musik selbst ist nicht unbe- dingt lustig, aber konsequent.

Klaxon Gueule in libera uscita; e libera da chiunque, visto che sia l’uno che l’altro fanno tutto da soli. St-Onge, il bassista, suona il suo strumento “assistito dal computer” (il basso elettrico, non St-Onge) e lo ripropone in vesti non abituali: contraffatto, misterioso, mutevole. Una bella prova di maestria ma anche quel buon tot di gratuità che contribuisce a lasciarci indifferenti; non mi pare che ci siano altre linee maestre che un certo alt-sfoggio. St-Onge da solista non è mai stato troppo convincente (anzi) e in Ailleurs ce ne dà conferma.

Invece Falaise, il chitarrista, stavolta suona anche il piano e duetta con se stesso nella migliore delle maniere. Li mixa, smista e depista, li fa collidere e combaciare, usa la fantasia per farli camminare insieme, sbilenchi entrambi e d’improvviso all’unisono. Per dire insomma di un disco che ha gran bella creatività e null’altro da sfoggiare oltre le (numerose) idee messe in campo: pezzi brevi per lo più come frammenti conchiusi, tutti motivati da curiosità e spinta verso l’ignoto, beati nella loro fragilità, densi di mille spunti che vanno dal jazz alla contemporanea, da rimasugli RIO a musiche da film (direi soprattutto queste). Nessuna rivoluzione, e forse anche in questo caso non molto più che una prova di maestria: ma che differenza!

[…] Along similar lines — electronic music and texts read in the French language is to be found on the release by Vromb and Lucien Francoeur. Vromb we obviously know from his various releases on Ant-Zen, but also from Hushush from his home town Montréal. He has quite a following I am told. Lucien Francoeur is a writer from Montréal, who has been active since the mid 60s. In his performances of the past he worked with musicians from the world of improvisation and as such has released a couple of LPs. Here we have twelve pieces, and unlike the release by Bruyas/Julliard, it’s not easy to escape from it; one can not play this a nice backdrop. The voice of Francoeur is more demanding in it that it is more present, and perhaps also because he skips occasionally back and forth between French and English, so you pick up sometimes something. The electronic music by Vromb is also more present and up front. Not in a disturbing way loud or anything, but more piercing at times and also more demanding. He has sustaining, insect like sounds, pulsating beats of a minimal nature, and throughout the music is spooky and mysterious. Certainly indeed one that requires full attention but if you fail to speak the language, like I do, it’s also a bit more complicated to grasp. We may return to what I said about the CD by Petit/Robinson in Vital Weekly 858: “it’s also something that I like to hear once or twice, but would not return to all too easily. Now I was thinking: maybe this is perhaps something to be seen live, seated in the dark and let it all come? I could imagine that would do well.” Especially this spooky stuff would do well in such places.