•
Rating:
What a beautiful album, ladies and gentlemen.
Let's say it right away, so we get it out of the way.
And let's also say it's a work for a large ensemble (18 pieces) of jazz origin, but absolutely recommended even to those who are not familiar with blue notes.
And that Fred Pallem's “friends” are among the best musicians on the young jazz scene across the border. And it shows.
Additionally, the album is dedicated to André Popp, a French composer, author of television programs and a symphony titled “Piccolo Saxo et Cie”, leader of an orchestra that had great success in post-war France. I read online that Pallem coins for him the curious definition of “missing link between Messiaen and the variety show” (!?!) Three pieces by Popp, reinterpreted by Fred's sparkling vein, are featured on the record.
Finally, let's clarify that the ironic reference to Stravinsky you've noticed in the title is not a joke: his ghost is also present, within the folds of the surprising mix offered by Le Sacre du Tympan.
But don’t fear encountering a cerebral and snobbish operation.
It’s a highly enjoyable, fun album: a carousel you won't want to get off once you get on.
Leading the way, with “Horny Biker”, are the brass in full swing, playing around a western guitar that seems to step out of, but wearing a tuxedo, the famous Pulp Fiction theme. The keyboards offer an additional “vintage” touch before the drum solo that precedes the theme reprise for the fantastic trumpet-flaring close.
This taste will capture your attention, drawing you into the album's mood, tinged with bizarre noir.
But it's the 13 minutes of “Train Fantôme”, a true concentrate of atmospheres and solutions, that encapsulate its soul.
Unease, melancholy, and suspense. A movie for the ears, with a plot envisioning numerous scene changes: from the uncertain prologue (a flashback on the protagonist's mysterious past, cigarette and three-day beard, bleary eyes?) to a rainy Parisian night with surveillance, from the solitary interior overlooking a gray suburb to hectic filming at an old amusement park. Up to the uncertain light of dawn (tragic?) leading to a happy end with epic crescendo, as the camera focuses on the sun, a blinding sphere over the trembling horizon, for the end credits. This is the film I saw, but I’m sure each of you can do better.
Then the pastiche of Latin rhythms and hypothetical themes of old TV serials in “Motorpsycho Blues”, the ironic retro elegance of “Sérénade Pour L'Entarteur” where between spins on the shiny dance floor, rustling dresses and old-timey fragrances, a suspended parenthesis designed by the vibraphone opens.
Cocktail music and western mood, orchestral jazz and '60s film soundtracks, transformed progressive and Zappa-like flashes are just some of the ingredients of the mix. Often present in the same track, as well as the rhythm changes that ensure dynamism and fun, avoiding approximations and monotonies: the orchestration is perfect, the album is surprisingly organic, flowing, brilliant.
Take two of André Popp's three pieces, placed towards the end: “Coeur Mécanique” starts gently and sparsely, but has a progressive and free heart that appears suddenly, beats convulsively, and then disappears, leaving us in the middle of a bucolic setting from which the piece begins anew. In “Bloody Serenade”, after an opening that relies on the moves of a little march seeming to lead us elsewhere, the electric guitar dialoguing with brass evokes Uncle Frank’s mocking smile.
The conclusion of the time and style journey is entrusted to the hybrid, between subtle and mournful jazz setting and epic western tones, of “Splendeur & Mort”.
But the temptation to resurrect and start over is one you will gladly yield to, having no intention of resisting after the first listen.
Because the irreverent but amused vein that runs through the reinterpretation of an impressive amount of historical references is supported by a meticulous attention to detail, a splendid richness of changing colors, and a variety of pressing rhythms spread throughout all 9 tracks.
The result is an album that never lets go, delivering an almost perfect sequence, a mechanism of sonic pleasure, a very personal synthesis with an ironic and “cinematic” flavor, in the unusual and eclectic version of a great jazz orchestra offered by Fred Pallem & Fiends.
So, ladies and gentlemen, I have nothing left to do but wish you bon voyage.
Speaking of André Popp (who also penned the jewel “Sexy Sax,” the penultimate track played by the ensemble in sly and sparse tones), it is worth noting that listening to this album generates great curiosity about the character.
I highlight an album made in '58, which I will try to procure as soon as possible, and which seems to have enchanted Monsieur Pallen: “Delirium in Hi Fi“. Even the title, with its programmatic tone, plays in its favor: we shall see.
Loading comments slowly
