In his duo with Pierre Tanguay, Pierre Langevin is the exception that proves the rule. Or if not him, then in any event his clarinet. When his licorice stick twists through polyrhythms and ethnic pretensions, it serves to illustrate that otherwise la boulezaille is a world of percussion. From the two whistles that start the disc to the coughs that conclude it, the two Pierres find rhythm around every turn. The recording is a moody piece of work, using vaguely familiar melodies to suggest different weathers in different lands, and comes off something like Henry Kaiser’s world music forays (although there is only guitar on one track, played by Jean René, with Jean Derome also sitting in on sax). Otherwise, hand drums, thumb pianos, harmonicas, childrens’ toys and cocktail shakers form the charming and seemingly preconceived backdrop. The surprise of this simple disc is its complexity. It seems rudimentary, but it’s never repetitive. It comes off as abstract, but is immensely listenable. And while you might think you get it, there might not be anything to get.