Relatively young arrivals on the avant music scene,
Rouge Ciel achieve a nearly perfect balance in their music -- composition vs. improvisation, electronic vs. acoustic, abrasiveness vs. lyricism -- with no single element overshadowing another. On the quartet's third album, 2010's
Bryologie, the band picks up where it left off at the conclusion of the preceding Veuiller Procéder: in the world of electro-acoustic improvisation. The group's sophomore outing featured four brief "Bond Précisionnel" improvisations as bridges between more thoroughly scored material. Veuiller Procéder ended with "Bond Précisionnel 4," and
Bryologie kicks off with "Bond Précisionnel 5," rattling, thumping, clattering, and buzzing along its noisy two-and-a-half-minute path toward an abrupt finish, as sudden as if somebody pulled the plug when the band was just getting started. Some avant improvisers play entire sets like this and are greeted by standing ovations. Second track "Imbroglio" begins as a composed contrapuntal duet between trumpeter Némo Venba and guitarist Antonin Provost, but the pace soon begins to accelerate, Venba moves from horn to drums, and the band locks into a tight and crazy meter with keyboardist Simon Lapointe blasting out an organ solo across the top. After a sudden shift, violinist Guido Del Fabbro makes like a 21st century
Sugarcane Harris with plenty of distortion and wah-wah on his own wild solo as his bandmates discover the ideal indie rock-funk hybrid to support him.
"Agitato" tips toward acoustic voicings, with Lapointe rolling through piano arpeggios and the band cruising along with Del Fabbro's lyrical violin stating the themes; this is
Rouge Ciel harking back to
Conventum and the very roots of musique actuelle in a blend of classical, folk, and jazz-rock, avoiding anything too sweet by shifting into dark off-minor chords and dissonance before finding resolution. "Tess" might be the album's most beautiful track, however, its simple theme given added gravitas by a shift in key and a bevy of electronics that threaten but never overtake its heartfelt nature. The epic "Antimémoire" could be
Univers Zero mixed with a post-grunge/noise/electro band (with Lapointe's avant jazzy piano a wild card in the deck) and the title track is darker still, with a relentless pounding beat of seeming animal/mechanical origin eventually drowning in a tide of electro improvisation -- Art Zoyd seem like easy listening in comparison. The album's final track, "Jubilation Protozoaire," is all over the place, often improvisation-based but teasing with composed interludes that ultimately lead down blind alleys; the foursome's dialogues could in fact accompany the skitterings of single-celled organisms -- maybe they were using the cover of their debut album as a graphic score. Taken as a whole,
Bryologie provides a lesson for other avant artists, whether newcomers or aging legends: to engage the listener in a musical style that's free to go anywhere and include anything, a sense of balance is key. And having a band with talents as deep as
Rouge Ciel helps a lot too. ~ Dave Lynch