Comme Martin Tétreault enregistra Le dernier disque de jazz du XX^e siècle avec Pierre Tanguay et Xavier Charles, on ne sera pas étonné d’apprendre que le Canadien aux platines s’adonne sur ce CD au rock! A la colle avec le batteur Michel Langevin (du groupe de metal Voivod dont je l’avoue j’ignore tout), leur duo s’appelle Et\Ou. Première question, qui du duo fait le Ou du Et et le Et du Ou? Tétrault, Langevin? Bien, qu’importe, l’un ou/et l’autre.

Deuxième question: tient-on là le dernier disque de rock du XXI^e siècle? Pourquoi pas. Mais d’un rock vaudou qui fait tressauter et danser le tourne-disque, d’un rock sans complexe qui ose parfois le balourd (comme sur le Duo 8), d’un rock noise et saccadé, brut et abrupt… De quoi oublier toute dénomination, et ne plus bouder notre plaisir à l’écoute de ce rock qui n’en est tout simplement pas un.

Wonderful! Géraldine Eguiluz is simply wonderful! A singer full of charm, emotion, and creativity, she strongly brings to mind, on this debut CD for Malasartes, the great Iva Bittová, except that Eguiluz bases her wordless singing on Latin American influences instead of Central European ones — and this comparison is no disservice to Miss Eguiluz, believe me! Rubedo’ro features nine of her own compositions for a string quintet: four string instruments and her own vocal chords. Sleek arrangements that navigate the ocean between chamber music, Latin American music, and musique actuelle. I was completely won over on the first listen, and so will you.

[…] The second set of the night featured the Ratchet Orchestra with special guest Saturnian space-traveler Marshall Allen. The Ratchet Orchestra are a 19-piece avant/jazz orchestra from Canada who are led by bassist Nicolas Caloia and who’ve played a great set at the 2011 Victo Fest. Reeds master, Marshall Allen who is currently 89, became a member of the Sun Ra Arkestra in the late fifties and has been their leader since the passing of Sun Ra in 1993. This year is the 100 anniversary of Sun Ra’s birth on the planet earth. Considering that the Ratchet Orchestra has nearly twenty members for this concert, their sound is rarely too chaotic as Mr. Caloia is a strong leader. The orchestra sounds as if they are playing some of Sun Ra’s charts yet the music is often spacious and rarely held down to the gravity of Earth. I recognize the occasional Sun Ra melody although there are section which float in space sounding unsure of where they are going or will end up. Another Arkestra member named Pico is next to Mr. Allen and plays flute. He gets several chances to solo and is an exceptional flute player. Mr. Allen takes his time and finally solos on alto sax and an electronic wind instrument which sounds like it was being played by Sun Ra himself. There is an amazing duet between Allen on alto and Joshua Zubot on violin, free and intense as well as a couple of spirited solos from the great Lori Freedman on clarinets. Although there were several sections where the orchestra sounded a bit tentative, there were also a number of cosmic interludes when it all came together lifted off to parts unknown, most likely Saturn Sun Ra’s homeworld. […]

[…] Day Two started off up at the Pavillon with a small orchestra (13 piece) from Quebec called GGRIL (Large Regional Group of Liberated Improvisation). I had known about this group of younger Quebecois players since their leader, Éric Normand, sent me some of their discs. GGRIL have collaborated and recorded with Evan Parker and Jean Derome in the past. Their instrumentation is unique: 3 strings, 3 electric guitars, trumpet, reeds player, accordion, electric & acoustic bass and a percussionist who doubles on vibes. Each piece they performed involved different strategies or directions, some involved one or two conductors. The first piece utilized two conductors, each of whom directed half of the ensemble and occasionally trying to take the reins from each other. The players sat in a semi-circle and exchanged ideas carefully. There were always several layers going on simultaneously but it never got too dense or chaotic. The short, spirited solos seemed to fit just right. The second piece involved using a set of playing cards to direct or inspire some of the improvisations. The third piece was conducted & composed by Robert M. Lepage, Ambiances Magnétiques composer & clarinet player. I dug the way the players would repeat certain riffs with assorted shifting drones as the tempo slowly increased. There is now a long history of conducted improvisations to draw from. I could hear elements of a Butch Morris conduction or even the early John Zorn-like approach to small sound sparsity. Considering that the (Quebec-based) Ambiances Magnétiques label has been around for some thirty-plus years, great younger groups like GGRIL are pointing the way for the next generation of experimental musicians. […]

[…] The next set was a sort of Quebecois all-star quartet which featured Michel Faubert on vocals, Pierre Labbé on tenor & soprano sax, electronics & compositions, Bernard Falaise on guitar and Pierre Tanguay on drums. Aside from the vocalist, the other three musicians have long been involved in numerous bands/projects mainly for the Ambiances Magnétiques label: Labbé (solo & band-led discs, Les Projectionnistes), Falaise (Miriodor, Klaxon Gueule, solo CDs) and Tanguay (more than two dozen discs with Jean Derome, Joan Hétu & René Lussier). I wasn’t familiar with Michel Faubert who is a storyteller/vocalist and has worked with a traditional folk/a cappella bands. Mr. Labbé was the central figure here and talked or sang throughout consistently in French. Since my French speaking is minimal, I missed out on the various stories and observations that Mr. Faubert did. The response from the mostly French-speaking audience was most often giggles and laughter. So, I concentrated on the sound of his voice, his gestures and the music which was charming, quirky and consistently inventive. The music started out softly with Tanguay on a jawharp stomping his feet. The other three musicians did occasional backup vocals and there was a certain fun-loving charm that ran throughout the entire set. Each song or piece seemed to create a different mood. I liked the way the musicians used subtle gestures to evoke certain vibes, Falaise played his guitar in his lap and rubbed a cloth on it while Labbé played odd sax sounds & electronics without soloing very much to serve the story. I would’ve no doubt enjoyed the set more if I understood French but this was not the case. […]

The great communicator Hélène Prévost, who was for a long time the lead new music presenter at Canada’s francophone state radio, just released her debut solo album. There is nothing summer-like about À la plage — “At the beach”, but it is actually a play on the French word “plage”, which also means “track” — it is the result of serious research on sounds and their mechanical and poetical interrelations. Ten tracks ranging from two to ten minutes, and each track has its own soundworld, though these soundworlds are all related. Disembodied sounds — rumbles, tweets, taps — sampled instruments (especially a guitar), fragments of conversations. This is abstract hörspiel, sound art that presents, that says, and then listeners draw their own narration or evocation from it. It’s a demanding listen, no doubt, but a rewarding one.

Saxophonist Jean Derome, violinist Malcolm Goldstein, and guitarist Rainer Wiens are pillars of Montreal’s improvised music community who retain their sense of whimsy and their willingness to test the limits. Frequent associates in varied contexts, they meet for the first time as a trio on 6 improvisations, where one finds a genuine playfulness.

The unpredictability is evident from the opening track, Saturnien, with Derome offering sustained saxophone blasts that may test the limits of aggression. By the end of the ten-minute piece, his sound is as warm and sweet as any sentimentalist might desire, as if in the course of the group dialogue Derome has inserted a history of alto saxophone sonority from Ellington sideman Johnny Hodges to French provocateur Jean-Luc Guionnet (a recent associate) — but he has done so in reverse.

That style of juxtaposition and unlikely evolution takes different forms here. Goldstein is a master of a kind of multiple musical speak, throwing off masses of bowed, plucked, and strummed notes with such rapidity that the shifting method of articulation seems like a continuous gesture. He and Wiens enjoy such a developed camaraderie that at times they seem to speak a single compound voice. The almost programmatic L’idée de nature floats on Wiens’ kalimba figure and Derome’s bird-like flute calls, while the sequence of six improvisations seems to move towards ever-greater empathy, climaxing with the memorably sustained, pensive dialogue of Glissements-souffle.