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.

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.

Quelle étrange aventure nous proposent de nouveau Martin Tétreault et Otomo Yoshihide, bruiteurs, avec 3. Ahhh, finale de leur trilogie exploratoire amorcée par 1. Grrr et 2. Tok. Nos deux chercheurs de son mettent à nouveau à contribution leur tourne-disques pour élaborer une trame sonore plus planante et apaisante ponctuée de frottements progressifs et de silences. Pour le plaisir des sonorités brutes et primitives.

La trilogie marathon (trois albums en moins d’une année) entamée par le duo de platinistes Tétreault/Yoshihide s’achève comme toute séparation amicale devrait se clore: dans un puissant et vivace éclat de rire: un «Ahh» jeté à la face du vent et qui charge dans son cortège les exhalaisons de leurs précédants albums.

Érigé et conditionné par le biais des mêmes instruments que sur les deux précédents numéros, ce «Ahh» argue pourtant avec une plus grande sérénité vers des contrées atmosphériques calmes et apaisées. Après le bruit («Grrr») et la déstructuration («Tok»), voici venu l’avènement de la création, ou tout du moins de l’apaisement.

Leur pratique de tri sonore (les lives ayant été donnés en différents lieux et à divers moments) au long de ce triptyque sonore donne un relief insoupçonné à la dualité de leur ménage, une carte rare de toutes les émotions et sensations que peuvent porter des instruments comme les platines détournée de leur usage classique.

Libre à chacun, ensuite dans un jeu de puzzle complexe de retracer la trame et la disposition originale des concerts, que ce soit par le biais géographique ou temporel.

Une étude intelligente et passionnante.

The first part of Martin Tétreault and Otomo Yoshihide trilogy entitled 1. Grrr is still fresh in our memory when we received the first part of this project. The difference between both albums could not have been greater. 1. Grrr is a harsh noise album with an extremely high level of energy, whereas 3. Ahhh is very low key with soft crackling. It’s like (contact) mics have been put in a room where a minimum of activity takes place. Both turntablists have gathered their calmest live recordings from Brest, Nijmegen, Orleans, Grenoble and Geneva. Although volumes and velocities have been scaled down, their work remains very interesting. Detailed improvisation with enough busyness and occasional loud squeaks and strange unidentifiable noises to keep the listeners attention.

Volume 3 of a three-part series documenting Martin Tétreault and Otomo Yoshihide’s April 2003 European tour, 3. Ahhh presents the ambient side of the turntablist duo, after the harsh noise of 1. Grrr and the concrete popping of 2. Tok. Tables softly turn on empty, quiet electrical hums provide background textures — most sounds are of the sustained kind. The Quebecer and the Japanese sculpt them into strange moving landscapes. One can completely forget that they are working with turntables, as their electro-acoustic aesthetics separates the music from the instrument. Things remain very calm, almost peaceful, for a gentle late night listen, but there are crescendos that push things beyond the comfort zone (the wonderful Orleans n^o 2 / Astrolabe 27.04.03) and moments of feedback that escalate to regions neighboring 1. Grrr (Genève n^o 1 / Cave 12 29.04.03 masterfully grinding to a halt). Actually, 3. Ahhh is the best-balanced volume in the series, the most representative of the duo’s work. At this point, one could question the relevance of fragmenting the duo’s persona into three characters, sold separately. It surely is debatable and several listeners would rather have a triple CD set presenting three complete shows from the tour instead of these themed best-of’s. Then again, people who don’t care about turntable noise-fests can skip volume 1 altogether. In any case, if you are thinking about giving this series a try, you may want to start with this last installment and work you way back.

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.