1. Grrr: tenailles magnétiques, martèlements froncés, stridences hantées, fauvismes révélés. Principe du bruit pour révolver glacé. Extraction réussie. Durée de l’intervention: 74 minutes.

2. Tok: caresses flasques, appels sidérurgiques, bossa nava encombrée, suprématie du brouillage, traumatisme continu. Funny Games. Gencive à vif. Durée de l’intervention: 61 minutes.

3. Ahhh: phare sonique, sonar profond, indices craintifs, insectes brûlés, membranes déphasées. Douleur sourde et tenace. Durée de l’intervention: 61 minutes.

Soit trois disques reprenant la quasi-intégralité des six concerts que le duo donna en Europe au printemps 2003. Un premier disque hurleur, un second plus fragmenté et un troisième résolument hypnotique. Les amateurs du genre se sont déjà rués dessus.

Excusez-moi d’abréger de la sorte mais mon dentiste m’attend… La symphonie peut continuer.

Martin Tétreault and Otomo Yoshihide are old hands at the art of the noise and you skronk kids should pay attention. Well crafted, instinctive and with the perfect combination of nail-you-to-the-wall attack and meditative buzz, 2. Tok is the middle and most dynamic of a three-CD set of live recordings. There’s lots of space, conversation and a wide variety of texture. On top of that there’s an odd feeling one gets that these two have listened to their share of pop music. And we are all better for it.

Tre volumi dell’etichetta canadese Ambiances Magnétiques raccolgono materiale registrato durante il tour europeo della primavera del 2003 dal duo di giradischi Martin Tétreault e Otomo Yoshihide.

La scelta è stata quella di spezzare il continuum delle singole serate per raggruppare la materia sonora a seconda del “clima” su cui veniva impastata: ecco quindi il primo volume 1. Grrr che raccoglie i momenti più “forti”, nel senso di rumorosi e aggressivi, mentre 2. Tok si compone di materiali più frammentati e 3. Ahhh concede alle orecchie — come suggerisce il titolo — la meritata quiete [sempre intesa con i benefici del caso…]

È chiaro da subito come questa scelta “classificatoria” sia la chiave d’accesso ai suoni contenuti nei tre volumi: quello che accade in un concerto è assai diverso, gode di un suo andamento dinamico, di una — per quanto peculiare — struttura narrativa, di una dialettica tra vuoti e pieni, di climax e anticlimax; gode ovviamente anche dell’energia del momento, del “vedere” come i due musicisti “trattano” i loro giradischi, del feedback del pubblico…

Non potendo su disco trasferire l’integrità della rappresentazione, specie questi ultimi aspetti, Tétreault e Otomo decidono di rinunciare del tutto alla coerenza della singola serata e “impacchettano” l’esito secondo coordinate che sono tanto banali quanto efficaci: non solo infatti si offre così all’ascoltatore una piena immersione nella gamma prescelta, ma gli si permette anche di confrontare come in differenti circostanze i due lavorino materiali analoghi.

Come è prevedibile attendersi da questi due “specialisti”, l’uso dei giradischi è ovviamente molto radicale, quasi sempre svincolato dalla loro funzionalità [suonare un disco] per ritrovarsi capovolto concettualmente [risuonare in un disco] e brutalizzato materialmente, attraverso sfregamenti, utilizzo di oggetti, colpi, feedback…

Stando così le cose, il primo volume, capace di accostare veri e propri muri di suono, sibili, lacerazioni uditive, è ovviamente il più “sgradevole”, ma anche molto efficace nell’offrire un doloroso spaccato del delirio tecnologico, quasi che tutte le macchine che ci circondano si fossero messe a funzionare male, al massimo volume, a pochi centimetri dal nostro cervello!

2. Tok svela una serie di sfumature particolarmente incisive [si ascolti il ribollire di Lyon n^o 3 / Kafe Myzyk 28.04.03] e permette di apprezzare meglio la contrapposizione tra i due artisti, mentre 3. Ahhh apre uno squarcio su un paesaggio emotivo che sembra l’unico esito possibile dopo il tuono del primo volume e lo sbriciolarsi del secondo.

Perché quello che sembrano dirci Tétreault e Otomo in questa decostruzione delle loro esibizioni è che alla fine di tutto non c’è il silenzio, ma il ricordo, lontano e struggente di una condizione di rumore primigenio… la musica è una pura illusione… Valutazione: ★★★ 1/2 [complessivamente]

Si vous doutiez de ce que des platines tourne-disques sont des instruments de musique à part entière, Martin Tétreault et Otomo Yoshihide vous convaincront du contraire. Cette trilogie contient des enregistrements de concerts donnés par le duo en Europe en 2003. Les platines ne sont pas vraiment là pour nous restituer les sons d’enregistrements sur microsillons, mais plutôt les sons des microsillons eux-mêmes, ainsi que ceux des platines éventuellement couplées à d’autres corps sonores, le tout passé au travers d’un dispositif de traitement «lo-fi» (pédales, etc.). Craquements, bruits de surface, rayures et dérapages d’aiguilles, tels sont quelques-uns des ingrédients qui composent cette mixture, le tout avec une distorsion immodérée. Sur le premier disque, 1. Grrr, l’univers sonore évoque des appareils électriques qui dysfonctionneraient en permanence sans, pour autant, jamais se résoudre à réellement tomber en panne, soit une sorte d’agonie infinie d’un couple de mange-disques qui aurait consommé des substances illicites sans modération. On est dans le registre des événements brefs mais répétés. Le second volume, 2. Tok, est bardé de sons itératifs qui rappellent des machines en mouvement, mais on y trouve aussi divers craquements, petits et gros. Ce disque est traversé de sons distordus, de corpuscules bruiteux divers développant un ensemble très fragmenté et saturé. La trilogie est clôturée par 3. Ahhh. On peut considérer que le titre reproduit le cri de soulagement poussé par l’auditeur à la suite de l’exposition prolongée aux sons harmoniquement chargés des deux premiers opuscules (et d’ailleurs le mot «harmonique» est étranger à cet univers). On se retrouve essentiellement dans des textures moins denses, moins torturées, avec des continuums parsemés de craquements ou des passages presque statiques. Pour conclure, on peut dire que si l’utilisation des sons créés par de platines tourne —disques en création musicale n’est pas une nouveauté, rarement cette utilisation aura été aussi poussée et concentrée, à l’exclusion de tout autre instrument ou catégorie de sons.

Let’s be honest, duos mining the so-called experimental music field are not new. But then again, can you really call the turntable a “new” instrument? People have “played” the turntable, on it, beside and inside it, for years now. Luckily for us (partially due to the popularity of rap) over the last two decades, there has been a resurgence of this neglected instrument. These three discs document the 2003 collaboration of two of the most innovative turntablists around: Quebec-based Martin Tétreault and Japanese Otomo Yoshihide. Together they create a maelstrom of turntable fury.

1. Grrr was meant to document the noisiest moments from the duo’s 2003 European tour. To be fair, it’s not the chaotic and obscenely ferocious acts of turntable mutilation that I take pleasure in on this CD. What excites me most are those quiet and pensive moments (such as on Nijmegen n^o 4b / Extrapool 25.04.03) that turn the preconceived sound of the turntable upside down. There is a definite pulsing beat to this piece. You hear a warm, glowing core here, not a human machine used to play LPs. This is one of the signs of a great duo, of a duo that is more than happy to experiment to get fresh results and unfamiliar sounds deep from their instruments. How many other turntable duos do you know that can make their instruments mimic a duo of a (high-pitched) alto player and a bassist? Final word of warning – 1. Grrr is not for the faint of heart. It is for those that need a huge jolt with their usual dose of mundane music.

I think 2. Tok was meant to showcase the more cut’n’paste approach to both musicians’ work. The album alternates between the obscure and the bizarre in a matter of a minute and the listener gets taken for a wild ride. The effect is quite spectacular. Tiny shifts in timbre, pitch and essence, this time around the music is about the texture rather than pure shock value. Pieces are dense but palatable to the ear. There’s more crackle than pop as the sounds are strangely pasted and layered in a fashion one could not imagine. This isn’t necessarily a sign of maturity (their work stands fine on its own merit – age has nothing to do with it). Simply put, both men needed to outline a part of their working relationship that didn’t get much exposure in the past. Abrasive to some, while welcoming to others, it’s best to let the sounds take their own course and declare a verdict afterwards. 2. Tok then is not about style, it is about the means in which an idea gets put across.

Finally, to close off this trilogy we get 3. Ahhh. Whether you’d like to take this literally or not (“Ahhh” could be a sign of relief as much as it is a declaration of restful state), the record is the most quiet one of the bunch. Now, the duo concentrates exclusively on the art of silence. It’s the state of the unheard, the art of the less explored that the duo are mining. Sure, you need patience for this record as the individual pieces develop slowly, often times leaving us without a resolution or a climax of sorts. Rather, it’s the journey that excites the two. Sound is suggested and implied. There is no direct over-the-top delivery here. You really have to listen to hear – to truly HEAR this record. Subtle pulsing heartbeats, huge machines revving up but never starting and that warmth are all here for the taking. In fact, the entire record proves that turntables can be very human, very organic and most obviously very lovable instruments.

If I had to pick a personal favourite, from a conceptual standpoint, 3. Ahhh turns out to be the highlight of the trilogy. Kudos go to the record label [Ambiances Magnétiques, distributed by DAME] that decided to push the entire trilogy as stand-alone releases to the market.

The story so far: back in 2003, Tétreault and Yoshihide, who manipulate sound using extensively modified/misused turntables, embarked on a 15-date tour. Many of their improvised performances were recorded for posterity, and the best bits were culled for a series of three “themed” live albums. The first volume, 1. Grrr, featured the segments most likely to cause torrents of blood to gush from listeners’ ears. 2. Tok focuses on the rhythmic elements of the duo’s performances; they even go so far as to describe it as “beat-driven”.

Don’t be fooled by that phrase! Yes, 2. Tok’s material is more rhythm — and percussion — attuned than anything on 1. Grrr (most of which sounds like what a mosquito sitting on your index finger hears when you run your fingernails down a blackboard), but calling it beat-driven is like describing being chased by a herd of angry bulls as “a spot of exercise”. Beat-harried, more like.

2. Tok’s rhythms come without design or deliberate meter, which isn’t surprising — these are improvised performances, after all, and “rhythm” in this case refers to the sonic fluctuations created by applying a turntable stylus to a cymbal, or a piece of sheet metal, or another turntable stylus (no notes are provided regarding the specifics of the duo’s performance; we’re just guessing based on liner-note photos and recognizable sound-nuggets). Despite the lack of conventional musical form, 2. Tok’s stylistic remit allows for a far more varied dynamic range than 1. Grrr’s balls-out loudness. As a result, we’re treated to drone and flutter-based pieces such as Nijmegen n^o 4a / Extrapool 25.04.03, which sounds like someone attempting to tune a very loud short-wave radio while a lawn-mower runs nearby. The source materials are a lot more recognizable when the volume is lowered: we can actually identify needle-drops in Orléans n^o 1 / Astrolabe 27.04.03, among others, and Genève n^o 4 / Cave 12 30.04.03 includes identifiable turntable scratching.

If you’re not a noise aficionado or a sonic endurance buff, 2. Tok makes a far more accessible point of entry into Tétreault and Yoshihide’s oeuvre. That’s purely relative, of course — don’t plan on putting either disc on your iPod unless you’re a professional interrogator.

Second volet d’une trilogie annoncée, 2. Tok est une membrane composite, agrégations de multiples concerts donnés en divers coins de l’Europe (Suisse, France, Hollande), et qui sous couvert d’un agencement rigoureux et d’une fine relecture a posteriori s’offre à notre écoute.

En premier lieu, souligner les points d’accords et d’achoppements qui définissent cette seconde étape au regard de la première.

Il semble que les 2 platinistes aient pris le parti de prodiguer des sensations/perceptions réparties selon une gamme échelonnée d’impressions, depuis la quiétude, la relaxation jusqu’à l’atermoiement, la douleur ou la curiosité. Si 1. Grrr s’attachait plus particulièrement à souligner les déchirures de syntaxes musicales, les conflits, frottements, et zones de tensions, 2. Tok semble principalement orienté sur une visée négocicée, discutée, et disons-le plus abstraite de l’improvisation.

2. Tok semble débuter là où s’achève 1. Grrr. Les volutes sonores cisaillees, fragmentées redécouvrent peu à peu les vertus du silence, laissant œuvrer en arrière-plan, variations et oscillations spontancées des tourne-disques.

Les deux hommes s’apprécient et se connaissent bien. À tel point que l’intuition et la complicité semblent avoir remplacé la part d’improvisation et de découverte pure qui gouvernait jadis leurs productions. La tension et l’étonnement sont pourtant tactils, dans les bourdonnements incessants des fréquences basses électro-minimales de Yoshihide ou par le biais des aiguilles, diamants et surfaces préparées du canadien Tétreault.

Un album de trés bonne tenue, une transition heureuse dans l’attente prochaine du troisième et dernier volet du triptyque, 3. Ahhh.

2. Tok della coppia Tétreault-Otomo è il secondo capitolo di una trilogia atta a documentare un lungo tour europeo dei due abili turntablists svoltosi nella primavera del 2003. E se 1. Grrr (BU #81) sin dal titolo metteva in scena l’aspetto più cruento del live set dei nostri, il presente volume rimane comunque adeguatamente torvo e feroce, pur declinando — a ben ascoltare — su un asse di minor intensità siderurgica e più intime geometrie di layering organico-materico. Difficile a credersi, ma son solo giradischi…