Two new cds from two reputated canadian musicians. Both are successfull in adding new aspects to their already considerable volume of work. André Duchesne surprises with a trio with Pierre Tanguay on drums and Jean René on alto violin. Duchesne plays classical guitar as he did on his solo effort Réflexions releasesed in 1999. Like Duchesne (Conventum, Les 4 gutiaristes de l’Apocalypso Bar, Locomotive) Pierre Tanguay is known from many other Ambiances Magnétiques releases. In 2000 Tanguay delivered his first and very tasteful La Musique de mon Disque. For Jean René it is his first appearance on this label. He studied composition and conducting and became solo violist for the Orchestre Métropolitain in 1991. He is active in a number of chamber music groups and is interested in the new music, both written and improvised. So this trio must be an interesting context for him, as the music is all about modern chamber music and improvisation. In the older work of Duchesne rock was never far away. In this new work on the other hand he moves away from music that is in one way or the other related to rock. With Polaroïde we enter into the world of modern chamber music. Concentrated and complex music. Igor Stravinsky is somewhere in the neighboorhood. René is very prominent on this cd. He is a very sensible violist and it is a joy to listen to him.

Jean Derome tells us that he “always has been fascinated by catalogues, lists and dictionaries. They are our somewhat naive attempts to conquer the diversity and complexity of the world around us.” How shall I order my collection of stamps? Land by land, birds by birds, etc.? This are superficial but maybe relevant criteria to bring order into a diversity. From this fascination originated his new cd Le magasin de tissu (The Fabric Shop). He recorded 69 short improvised pieces. Each piece has one instrument. He uses reeds, flutes and all kinds of percussive instruments and objects. It is a catalogue — not exhaustive — of the instruments and sounds Derome makes use of in his music. All pieces last about 69 seconds. In between the pieces they are 13 seconds of silence. After compiling this catalogue of 69 soundpieces he put them in some order in the following way. The pieces were distributed on three different cds. So each one has 23 tracks. Derome played these three cds simultaneously in shuffle mode and re-recorded the result. That is what we have in our hands. So it is one of many possible worlds. Is it the best of all possible worlds…? Composed as it is in a very extrinsic way. A naive attempt to compose music…? “This project was designed to allow chance to show its beauty” Derome concludes…

Jean Derome is one of the co-founders of the Ambiances Magnétiques label, a Montréal-based label specialising in avant-garde, new music, improv, and contemporary creations. He plays all sorts of instruments, but especially flute and saxophone. He studied jazz, improv, contemporary, twelve-tone, atonal, folk and even pop. All this comes forward in his presentation of 23 short pieces of pure improvisation. He compiled this record at random, by playing three discs of each 23 different pieces in a shuffle mode, letting chance be the sole reign in compiling this album. While at first the music doesn’t seem to capture you in any way but annoyance, after a while, when you get used to the abstract tones and the free form improvisations which are seemingly without any structure, the album grows slowly but steadily. A big plus is that Derome never takes himself and his music too seriously. The overall tone is light and almost playful, and the fun which he had while making it shows very obviously. The music meanders between harsh atonal noise and soft spoken words, and everything in-between. This all is made by several different (mostly acoustic) instruments, most of them unrecognisably altered. There is a whole, underlying theme explaining why Derome made this recording in this particular way — it has something to do with dictionaries, fashion and catalogues, believe it or not — but it would take too much time and effort to present it all here.

Le magasin de tissu is a nice album if you’re into pure, abstract improv music, and if you are, you surely will be able to enjoy Jean Derome’s music. However, it doesn’t reach new levels in the Ambiances Magnétiques catalogue. Therefore, this album will only be really interesting if you’re a complete fanatic or if this is your first encounter with music from this label.

Turntablism that has absolutely nothing to do with hiphop. These soundconstructions come from the comunity around the Ambiances Magnétiques label, and that information ought to be enough to start some serious drooling on the avant-garde fanatics, such as myself. Diane Labrosse and Martin Tétrault are the soundsculptors on the Parasites album, and their tool, among modern electronic equipment and other toys, is the turntable. Not that it can be identified as such. But there are more unidentifiable aspects: where is the melody? Where is the songstructure? Where ends one track and begins another? The answer to all three: unknown. This completely improvised electronic soundscape varies in atmosphere and texture and does this without adding any kind of melody or structure. And why they bothered to cut things up into 15 tracks and name each track in both English and French as well, we’ll probably never know. I could mention that Bad Amoeba sounds like this and Stop Interfering! like that, but why? The sonic exploration goes by continuesly, without pauses. This adds to the hypnotic effect the music surprisingly has. When at first the soundscape tends to float by leaving anything lasting, at a certain moment you’re just getting into it, and you’ll slowly be sucked in the electronic swamp. And although there is a complete absence of melody or even a steady and comfortable drone, that swamp is far from unpleasant.

A mitzvah, this album, I’m telling you! Without a cover to tell you otherwise, you would swear this was the latest offering from one of downtown NYC’s plethora of latin/klezmer/Balkan/jazz juggernauts on John Zorn’s Tzadik label. Instead, Ipso Facto turn out to be Montréalers, featuring David Buissieres on guitars, Chantal Bergeron on violin, Simon Dolan on standing bass and Francis Roberge on percussion.

The quartet plays with verve, restrained passion, and a healthy dollop of humour. Though lovingly and seriously executed, most every track betrays a little glint in the corner of the eye, a little “Yiddish Meshuggas” (as the second cut is entitled). Ipso Facto effortlessly slide between rhythms and styles, with the hearty acoustic voice of Bergeron’s violin usually taking the lead. Time changes between and even within the cuts make the twelve-track CD appear to contain even more tracks. A lively latin dance tune will suddenly slow down to catch its breath and continue as a reggae stroll; a cowboy hoedown will take sharp, jazzy turns during the refrain.

All the tunes have been penned by Buissieres (save one on which he shares a writing credit with Bergeron), and thus La spirale de l’escargot is also a compact showcase presenting the broad talent of a first-rate composer. And Buissieres leaves plenty of room for his compadres to follow their own muses in short bursts of inspired improvisation.

Life-affirming chamber stylings, compellingly composed and impelling the listener up onto the dancefloor, imaginary or hardwood.

La Spirale de l’Escargot (“The snail’s spiral”) introduced this young instrumental band from Quebec. An acoustic quartet of guitar, violin, double bass and drums/percussion, Ipso Facto cooks up an interesting recipe of world jazz fusion. Elements of Klezmer, tango, folk and fusion jazz are blended in simple but colorful compositions. The unchanging instrumentation ensures a cohesion from piece to piece that the wide palette of styles used could not provide. In terms of influences, one hears the progressive folk of Conventum (in a piece like Volapük in particular) and Art Zoyd in their acoustic beginnings (and without the bleak atmospheres), but also Astor Piazzolla and Jesse Cook. If most of the pieces have good rhythm, sometimes the melodies are thin, giving an impression of hollowness (De temps en temps, Les bleus). Through the creative countrapuntal voices and cross-stylistic arrangements one also finds something mechanical in the interpretation — as if the musicians were still prisoners of their parts, not completely comfortable. But when things click, they do marvelously: Yiddish meshugass is a great take at neo-Klezmer, the violin melody in Soleil rouge gives you something to dance to, and the aforementioned Volapük shows how the group can tastefully tackle more complex compositions, leaning toward the avant-garde — they should actually try more of that, it gives their music a more precise identity. A good debut.

For Ohmix the Quebec based Avatar Foundation invited eight composers to plunder the back catalogue of its OHM Éditions imprint and produce new work through their remixes and transformations. German recyclist Ralf Wehowsky, of P16.D4, kicks things off with a steadily building shimmer that peaks in a flurry of samples followed by a gentle, pulsing decline. Montréal turntablist Martin Tetreault’s brief contribution collapses muitiple sources into a jittery flux, music and voice sped up and whisked into an agitated state. French composer Christian Calon produces a tense dystopian piece in which an impoverished and seemingly distressed human voice is hemmed in by shadowy electroacoustic forms. Terre Thaemlitz contributes Transit(ional Edit) a clicking gridlock of synthetic horn sounds, an angry and terminally immobile jam. There are two pieces from arch plunderer John Oswald. Ohmigone (re)constructs a radio phone conversation, empty words drifting amongst inhuman sounds in a communication vacuum. Ridge builds from ripples to waves to a breaker of lush piano music. Spikier piano runs through an animated piece by Diane Labrosse, who has played with the groups Wondeur Brass and Justine. Tinkling bells, organ chords and reedy blasts, cartoon squeaks and distorted human voices are among the other elements in this soundtrack to some enigmatic narrative. Ambient technician David Kristian spins out an enigma of another kind. His Ohmite gradually intensifies from pinpoint to full glare without ever revealing the source of its luminous throb. Finally Alexandre St-Onge, an improvising associate of Kristian, drains the remaining air from the Ohmix atmosphere, mimicking the micro rhythms of a puncture or a gas cylinder with an open valve. A long, measured breath out. The OHM policy of taking risks often results in albums that include arresting episodes yet are uneven overall. A more selective project, Ohmix is consistently worthwhile.