Joane Hétu is a composer, saxophonist and vocalist who has been a pivotal figure within Quebec, Canada’s vibrant avant-garde, experimental music scene. The title of this album translates to “She has a say in the Matter.”

Hétu is joined on this album by Sarah Albu (another voice), Émilie Fortin on trumpet, Julie Houle playing tuba, Luzio Altobelli on accordion, Noam Bierstone and Michel F Côté on percussion with Côté adding electronics to her musical repertoire, and all of the musicians mentioned sing and manipulate objects in addition to playing their primary instruments. The result of Joane Hétu’s musical genre is somewhat ethereal. Fair to say, it refuses categorization.

The group opens with a piece entitled, Elle n’a pas de mot that translate to “She Has no Words.” It sounds like what I would imagine the universe to sound like. Mysterious humming, that hangs in space like clouds. An instrument that sounds like a flute, dances across the arrangement, produces a ringing in my ears that is pleasant and captivating. Her press package explains that ‘whirly tubes’ were used to create these soundscapes. These are ribbed hoses that are spun professionally above or beside the players.

The next composition features vocalist Sarah Albu to the forefront to interact with the percussionist. She presents a semi-operatic performance that is quite rhythmic, singing in a language other than English. I’m assuming it is French, since the album title and song titles are all in French. This arrangement is very percussive, even the vocals.

The next song titled Elle n’est pas un animal translates to “She is not an animal.” There are several vocals used on this song, including male and female singers, vocal harmony and individual voices. Whistle sounds, spoken word and percussion creates a cacophony of moods. There is very little music during this experimental track.

A composition Joane Hétu calls Un idéal uses voices once again with percussion to create a mood. Using a texture of voices with sharp instrumental punctuations, it almost feels like sound effects instead of a song. Then comes Avoir le motton, a composition from 2001 that features Hétu’s saxophone intertwining with Emilie Fortin’s trumpet talents. Human gasps and coughs enter the production unexpectedly, including a somewhat grotesque vocal solo. It’s quite experimental.

This musical experience demands an acquired taste. It’s both experimental and avant-garde. Her original music explodes into the universe, blending feminist discourse, spoken word and phonetic delirium into her arrangements with unexpected and purposeful abandon.