The Montréal trio Évidence approaches Thelonious Monk’s songbook from a new-jazz perspective. Alto saxophonist Jean Derome, electric bassist Pierre Cartier, and drummer Pierre Tanguay all have extensive experience in avant-garde music fields. This first album, simply titled Musique de Thelonious Monk, was recorded in October 1992, six years after the trio’s inception. The repertoire highlights classic Monk compositions like ’Round Midnight, Misterioso, and Well You Needn’t, but also gives attention to lesser-known tunes such as Hackensack and Ugly Beauty. Évidence’s second album, Live à la Casa (2000) will feature more adventurous choices. In any case, the selection itself matters little, the force of this trio residing in its arrangements. The lack of a pianist gives these tunes new life, thanks mostly to the way Derome uses split-tones to simulate Monk’s minor seconds (especially in Hackensack) and plays around the chords to suggest them. The musicians interpret Monk’s music the way they hear it in their heads. Respect for the original was a ground rule, but since the pianist himself was known to take many liberties with his compositions (and those of others), Derome, Cartier, and Tanguay didn’t refrain from pursuing their pleasure… and ours. Yet, Musique de Thelonious Monk sounds more sober than its follow-up.

Poet-singer Jerry Snell released his only album in 1992 on the Montréal avant-garde label Ambiances Magnétiques. Supplying his words, he was helped by drummer Michel F Côté (Bruire, Klaxon Gueule), guitarist Claude Fradette (Locomotive), and saxophonist Claude Vendette (Abbittibbi) for the music. They had worked with Snell for the dance troupe Carbone 14, where Snell’s beyond-the-grave screams left an indelible mark. The same raw energy can be found on Life in the Suicide Riot. His words of despair and denunciation fit his gravelly voice. When he whispers, he sounds demented; when he starts screaming, shivers run up and down your spine — it’s actually hard to stay where you are when starts screaming “Run, you son of a bitch, run.” The music can sound very straight at times (the overlong Preacher Bob), but it mostly takes the form of either punchy avant-rock songs (Glory, Run, No Alarm Clocks in Heaven) or more atmospheric climates following the inflections of Snell’s narration (A Conversation on Morality, Eternity and Copulation, on a text by Charles Bukowski, Edmund Kemper Lives Next Door). Snell is not a singer: he declaims, whispers, screams, but does not sing. If his message is not that powerful, his voice rips wallpaper and you can be sure the neighbors will summon you to stop that infernal racket. The overall sound on Life in the Suicide Riot could be compared to André Duchesne’s CD Locomotive: rock with a sharp edge. All but one song are in English.

Les métamorphoses clandestines is one of Robert Marcel Lepage’s first compositions for the stage or the screen, in this case a choreography by Louise Bédard. It was released by Ambiances Magnétiques (of which Lepage is a co-founder), in the label’s Archives Magnétiques cassette series, in a very limited edition of 250 copies. This album features Lepage on his trustworthy clarinet, but also on bass clarinet, saxophone, synthesizer, and percussion. The only other contributing musician is trombonist Michael Wilson. The music ranges from clarinet solos to more textural pieces. It doesn’t have the strength of his suite for string quartet Les choses dernières, also written for a choreography, but it displays a nice balance of the seriousness and playfulness found on his first album La traversée de la mémoire morte. The rarity of this little-known album endows it collectable value, in addition to being enjoyable, even though it is clearly not an essential item in Lepage’s discography.

Released on Archives Magnétiques, Montréal label Ambiances Magnétiques’ line of archival recordings, L’oreille enflée (The Swollen Ear) is a tale for children and generally young at heart avant-garde lovers. Narrated by Marie Ouellet, this story features a young girl with a vivid imagination and a host of characters played by Ambiances Magnétiques musicians such as Jean Derome, André Duchesne, and Joane Hétu. An allegory on the necessity to break the mold of conformity, this tale is accompanied by untypical music for a children album. Composer Danielle Palardy Roger was a member of the seminal avant-garde all-female bands Wondeur Brass and Justine: her writing calls for angular rock structures, staccato melodies, acoustic instruments such as saxophones and flutes, and disquieting atmospheric settings. These musicians have all released much better performances elsewhere, but the whole thing is very cheerful and provides a perfect occasion to introduce pre-teens to something else than radio-friendly pop music. There is one big obstacle though: the tale is narrated in French.

[…] Le pari de Geneviève Letarte était d’innover dans le genre plutôt figé de la chanson à texte. […] On ne peut que s’incliner devant cette promenade dans l’inconnu qui ne se compare à rien de ce qui existe ici. Sinon au travail que Letarte elle-même a entrepris il y a quelques années sous forme de poésie-performance. Et l’album, qui résume ses deux derniers spectacles, supporte aisément la comparaison. Le son s’est raffiné, l’approche s’est franchement aiguisée.[…] premier disque très réussi […]