Animatori dello show radiofonico Napalm Jazz presso l’emittente quebecoise CKIA-FM, presto mutatosi in vero e proprio progetto musicale, Aimé Dontigny e Érick d’Orion hanno da qualche anno mutato denominazione in morceaux_de_machines mantenendo peraltro inalterata l’energia apocalittica della band originaria. Lo dimostra nitidamente l’album d’esordio liberum arbitrium che, prendendo le mosse dall’opera di Anthony Burgess e Luigi Russolo, si distende o piuttosto si aggroviglia in un infernale impasto impro-rumorista di ferocia inaudita. Un urticante attacco massimalista via carta vetra all’apparato uditivo, ed era da tempo che non se ne sentiva di così convincenti. (7/8)

Did you ever stop in your tracks while cooking dinner to listen to the sonic possibilities of this pot or that pan? Well, you should. Magali Babin acted on this impulse and has since developed an art form out of kitchen utensils and discarded metal objects. Chemin de fer is her first album. The title means “railroad” but is more accurate when translated literally: “road of iron.” This is not bang-on-a-can noise. Babin studies metallic sounds up close, using close miking to capture all the subtleties of her tappings and scrapings. Her approach bears similarities with lowercase and microsound esthetics — indeed, she puts her “instruments” under the microscope. Looping, filtering, but most of all exploring all the sonorities contained in them, she improvises strange, captivating pieces. However odd they sound, they remain vaguely familiar. Triturations and Petit jardin stand out, simply because they take a form more constant and eventful than the other pieces. Jogging dans la maison hantée was created with producer Mario Gauthier and sound engineer Alain Chénier taking part (although their roles are not specified). Pluie de homards is an improvisation over the noise piece Rain by Ian Nagoski. Ma tribu begins with a simple sound (what?) and builds up to an abrupt end, Francisco López-style. L’entonnoir is the noisiest track, recalling some of GX Jupitter-Larsen’s experiments, but without the macho “subliming violence” vibe. Even in her harsher moments, Babin keeps her art under a feminine touch. Impressive.

Of the four CDs the label No Type released upon its launch in May 2002, Podweek is the most straightforward. Compared to Magali Babin’s microsonic metallic studies and morceaux_de_machines’ digital noise, the tunes of Oeuf Korreckt (aka Frédérick Blouin) derive from early techno and keep rhythm and melody as immutable constants. The quirk in Oeuf Korreckt’s music resides in the means of production. He still uses pre-Windows assembling software like Scream Tracker, connecting him to the 1980s pioneers of the techno scene. Still, besides an affiliation to the “vintage” sound, similar results could have been obtained with more up-to-date techniques. The real interest in these pieces is more in the way they sound fresh, positive, and entertaining. If it weren’t for the heavy rhythm tracks, one could think of naive electro-pop figures like Felix Kubin or Reznicek. The pieces collected on this very generous album (78 minutes) date from 1995 to 2001, making it a retrospective of sorts. There is plenty to go around, maybe a bit too much considering the rather limited sound palette used. But the tracklist offers many highlights, from the crude opener Get Binary and the cute Alright Well Okay (featuring a child’s voice) to hardcore rompers like King of the Elephants and A Ride in Elephant City.

Volume 3 in the Canadian Electroacoustic Community’s Presence series came out in June 2002. Once again a 2-CD set, it presents 29 works by as many artists. These composers are for the most part rarely seen on record (only Laurie Radford, Adrian Moore, and a couple more have full-length releases available). The series’ intent is to give exposure to the work of CEC members, not to produce easy-flowing albums. The listener is meant to dive in, take what he wants and retreat. That explains the alphabetical track list, but the CDs can still be listened in full with some enjoyment. The music ranges from musique concrète to sound synthesis and environmental recordings. Half of the tracks last between 3 and 4 minutes. The others are either slightly shorter or longer, none going over 9 minutes. Beside one piece by Martin Alejandro Fumarola dating from 1989, all works are recent. Stand-outs include James Bentley’s Double Exposure, academic but very well done; Ian Chuprun’s I Was Very Safe… In My Dream, a disturbing juxtaposition of children talking about their dreams (and their mother’s lie: Daddy’s microphones aren’t turned on) and adults laughing at a party; David Hirst’s Mon Dieu, where tennis, boating and religion come together; David R Mooney’s ambient The Llama Strut; and Steven Naylor’s Irrashaimase, a beautiful reminiscence of urban Japan.