Quebec has one of the most heterogeneous avant-jazz scenes in the world, and all that hard work bending the form has found an outlet for at least twenty of them to let off a little extra steam in the form of Fanfare Pourpour.

Under the direction of Jean Derome, the grand poobah of Montréal’s musique actuelle scene, and Némo Venba, who plays trumpet and manages the label, half of them have written tunes hitched together in one fifty-six minute long freight train hurtling along but never going off the rails for this, their fourth release.

Inside the beautifully-designed wallet, there is a photo of the orchestra gathered round the dinner table (stocked with oranges and bottles of wine) which immediately brings to mind the famed portrait of Bob Dylan and The Band on The Basement Tapes. Another crowd of equals vastly enjoying one another’s company. It’s impossible to say for sure, but it seems that everybody gets at least one solo. Still, the main thing is the flawless ensemble play — made more impressive by the fact the whole record was recorded live in the studio.

Literally beginning with a chugga-chugga choo-choo rhythm and conductor’s whistle, we are off on a milk run to Vaudeville with stops at the circus, a gypsy camp, a Balkan booze-up, a Jewish wedding, and a village fête in rural Quebec. Fanfare Pourpour freshens up classic popular music forms like the tango, waltz, pasodoble and chanson, and treats us to unclassifiable anthems to joy like Pour des ours (which ends with a meow).

The band includes actor/guitarist Luc Proulx, who sings the first of only two songs, Partir, like M. Hulot on a day not fraught with small catastrophes. Nicolas Letarte brings out his singing saw. Violinist Guido Del Fabbro, who presides over a large ensemble of young improvising experimentalists in his Mouvement de Musique Présente, has penned three wildly divergent numbers. Argentinian-born saxophonist Damian Nisenson, reputedly ”a man who will say anything and can play anything”, is true to both his roots and the motley nature of this crew helming an hilarious avant-klezmer tushy-shaker which translates as “Big Magpie”. Marie-Soleil Bélanger, experimental vioinist, is right in her element, as her day job is to play with traditional genres.

Also on board are demon accordionist Luzio Altobelli, Dany Nicolas and his banjo and lugging the biggest instrument, Christine Lajeunesse on euphonium.

Lajeunesse gets to blow that leviathan on Willi grosse baleine, big-band reggae showcasing the brass section; the waltz Transport Suzanne by Del Fabbro is diginified and actually quite moving. It’s nice too sit one out, too, and cool off in the tiki-lounge breeze of Croise le pont.

As each new number queues up, a different kind of smile crosses your face.

Et puis la chute. Et puis plus rien. Et puis beaucoup trop. Combat contre la surtaxe d’images perdues, d’époques mortes. Vétustes choix (de carrière). Le recul comme couteau au cœur, le demain comme cauchemar nécessaire. Inéluctabilisme profond d’une condition humaine gâchée. Suivant les traces chantées de Steppe, Josée Lalonde raconte en duo avec Émilie Laforest l’histoire d’un désordre. Lori Freedman, Pierre-Yves Martel, Philippe Lauzier et notre chef mécanique, Isaiah Cecarrelli s’occupent du reste. La fermeture de l’usine a tué papa. Les résidus du culte d’autrefois tueront maman.

Artiste-performeuse, slammeuse expérimentale, électronicienne lo-fi, Alexis O’Hara a plus d’un tour — et d’une langue — dans son sac. Ellipsis la présente seule (mais beaucoup de musiciens participent ici et là, dont Michel F Côté, Bernard Falaise, Alexandre St-Onge, Brian Lipson et Sophie Trudeau). Une pop électronique expérimentale aux textes audacieux, ludiques, parfois lubriques, à l’humour déjanté et à la réflexion acidulée. Très heureux d’y trouver Twenty-three qui faisait partie du spectacle La Salle des pas perdus des Filles électriques.

Un nouveau projet du percussionniste Michel F Côté, soit un trio d’improvisation avec le trompettiste Ellwood Epps et le bassiste Alexandre St-Onge. Appelons cela une continuation de (juste) Claudette à travers Klaxon Gueule — les différences sont marquées, mais le même esprit rebelle anime les trois projets. La première écoute ne s’est pas imposée, mais j’y reviendrai.