And yet more Monsieur Dhomont! He is busy, isn’t he? Well, actually Jalons is a collection of eight works dating from 1985 through to 2001.And yet more Monsieur Dhomont! He is busy, isn’t he? Well, actually Jalons is a collection of eight works dating from 1985 through to 2001. A chance to hear some of his individual smaller works as opposed to big conceptual ones. There’s quite a variety to it as well.

This is even evident in the first track Vol d’Arondes which moves around a lot, notably nodding to Parmegiani and Bayle in its use of granulation and sound crunching, along with lots of nice subtle pitch delay. Contrastingly En cuerdas is Dhomont’s own version of a work he did with guitarist Arturo Parra, taken a step further away from Parra’s guitar, and all the better for it. Les moirures du temps is pure sonic fabrication, and shimmers almost indescribably, whereas the following Studio de nuit places that type of sonic structure against more clatters and crunches, along with snatches of text discussing aspects of human perception at night. Such invention continues throughout, in Lettre de Sarajevo with its angular concrete counterpoints and wedges of sound, Un autre Printemps different in that it’s a film score that uses snatches of Vivaldi, Drôles d’oiseaux all made up of chopped and mangled bird twitters, and finally the tiny closing track L’électro which amounts to a jokey collage of laughter and chattering. A chance to hear some of his individual smaller works as opposed to big conceptual ones. There’s quite a variety to it as well.

This is even evident in the first track Vol d’Arondes which moves around a lot, notably nodding to Parmegiani and Bayle in its use of granulation and sound crunching, along with lots of nice subtle pitch delay. Contrastingly En cuerdas is Dhomont’s own version of a work he did with guitarist Arturo Parra, taken a step further away from Parra’s guitar, and all the better for it. Les moirures du temps is pure sonic fabrication, and shimmers almost indescribably, whereas the following Studio de nuit places that type of sonic structure against more clatters and crunches, along with snatches of text discussing aspects of human perception at night. Such invention continues throughout, in Lettre de Sarajevo with its angular concrete counterpoints and wedges of sound, Un autre Printemps different in that it’s a film score that uses snatches of Vivaldi, Drôles d’oiseaux all made up of chopped and mangled bird twitters, and finally the tiny closing track L’électro which amounts to a jokey collage of laughter and chattering.

All pure concrete this one, a storming melange of sonics and environments, that writhe and shatter. It’s engrossing and perplexing, in that it always seems to be going somewhere, yet the clues are vague and you’re always left guessing. As sounds clunk and (again) shatter, they regroup in strange cacophonies, and I’m often reminded of late-1960’s works of Pierre Henry and Francois Bayle, yet it’s obviously 21st Century music, with a sparkling sound and clarity.

Cet album nous fait entrer dans un monde réfléchi et engagé qui utilise des éléments sonores du réel alliés à des sons synthétiques pour transmettre des atmosphères et des messages d’une grande subtilité. Créatrice d’une des Symphonies portuaires en 1998, Monique Jean détient assurément certaines clés importantes de la musique contemporaine, car elle est d’une originalité peu commune et d’une créativité sans cesse renouvelée.

[…] Speaking of the No Type-ers… After what has been some public critique of Mutek, even on this list, No Type presented a label showcase at the Studio yesterday that enraptured the crowd, sucking them into a vortex of noise and improv electronic performances. […] No Type held attention despite the soundsystem’s relatively quiet range, with Samiland travelling a wealth of minimalist and dub territories, from sparse and deep broken beats to ambience, leading into the madness that was to follow: two sets of collaborative & improvised performances featuring A_Dontigny, first with the precise workings of veteran improvisational artist Diane Labrosse — on what appeared to be a theraemin device, at times; this performance was intricate, yet harsh in its metallic clamouring of sound-events. Then came morceaux_de_machines who, after an enthusiastic shout-out from Aimé, did not disappoint with his collaboration: vitriolic improvised noise from strange devices, high-pitched and jagged waves, from this real beast of a man, getting down and into it — morceaux grabbed the crowd and spun them round degree by degree. To end was Vancouver’s Coin Gutter, the enigmatic duo of Graeme and Emma carving out one of their more delicate and restrained sets, and, although improvised, moving through a taste of their sound, from experimental electroacoustic to noise, field recordings, media samples, and dark soundscapes. […]

Une rencontre symbolique entre deux générations de créateurs, Télépathie fait le pont entre le cercle d’Ambiances Magnétiques et la culture mp3 de l’étiquette No Type. Diane Labrosse manie l’échantillonneur comme un poème: identifiables ou non, ses sons nous arrivent métamorphosés. Aimé Dontigny (du duo morceaux_de_machines) a une approche plus bruitiste, carrée. Son ordinateur crache plus qu’il ne susurre. Et ce disque voyage entre ces deux pôles. Atmosphérique, truffé de textures crépitantes au début, il se laisse pervertir par le bruit blanc et les hurlements numériques vers la fin. Dénué de rythmes et de mélodies, ce disque est néanmoins captivant, grâce à la télépathie des improvisateurs. 8/10