In these pages, from the first issue, I have had the pleasure of spreading the joys and infinite universes of literature. Now, here I am settling down on the banks of song, a literary art if ever there was one, which I practice in my spare time as a songwriter. The theme of this new issue lifts us up and is perfectly suited to the name of this emerging section, intended for Québécois or French-language music: song prescriptions, which I humbly offer you as remedies for the storms and tempests of life. Happy listening!
“L’amour” a song from the album C’est drôle la vie, from Christophe Maé, 2023
After looking everywhere for happiness on Il est où le bonheur, Frenchman Christophe Maé tackles another enduring cliché on “L’amour” as a duo with Malians Amadou and Mariam: love. Some will be allergic to it, like the rest are to happiness, but the official video clip is enough to win over even the most jaded. The Ugandan group Masaka Kids Africana, which shares the joy of dance with orphans in the country, is invited to the floor first, and the children move with all their soul and a smile to convince us that this is a pervasive feeling, dizzying and stirring all at once. So strong that it can make us “fumer une cigarette” (smoke a cigarette), but then make us butt out almost instantly! Amadou and Mariam’s synthesizers will quickly loosen up your legs, and Maé’s gravelly voice will reconcile you—or not—with the cliché which is nicely reactivated at the turn of childhood.
Suite pour personne an album from Jeanne Côté, 2023
A big winner in 2023 at the Francouvertes competition, Jeanne Côté has a gift for the bittersweet. Her album Suite pour personne is a collection of songs that have their feet in the water—and yet, their current never swallows us, because their wind is lively and brisk. Two titles particularly attract attention in this sense. In “Ouragans,” with its piano in tendrils and waterfalls, we keep our distance from reality, but with the Other, we can restitch the bond, with that gentle call to “Serre-moi la main” (shake my hand). Because it’s well known that “des fois, faut que la vie nous arrose, pour se mouiller” (sometimes, life has to water us to get wet). And with “Y peut mouiller,” Jeanne Côté fights back against the bad weather of a Sunday evening where the air is heavy; how can we combat this fever of greyness and these shady areas that assail our lives? When we have nothing left to lose, why not welcome the rain? And “tourner dans l’orage, courir comme un chien fou” (turn into the storm, run like a mad dog). A soothing, hypnotic album.
« blood pareil » a song from the album monde autour, from Comment debord, 2023
If you are not yet familiar with Comment debord, a group whose album homonyme featured titles such as “Chalet” and “Ville fantombe” that stood out on the radio, their recent offering has all the groove it takes to expand their fanbase. I admit that I had a big weakness for the first track, “blood pareil,” in which singer Rémi Gauvin clings to a tele- phone booth to reinvent his ideals. To put it bluntly, he dreams of a world where a social project can be synonymous with the search for other people “qui veulent aller danser après le souper” (who want to go dancing after dinner). Nothing less. It may seem frivolous, but “ça serait-tu blood pareil” (don’t you feel the same in your blood)? All the melodic and percussive lines are entitled to their solo, then get tangled up in a joyous harmony. And then, there is a desire for the horizon that rumbles in living rooms…
“Y a-tu du monde qui ont envie de s’embarquer dans quelque chose de plus grand qu’eux autres Y a-tu du monde qui ont envie de s’arranger pour modifier leur petit bonhomme de chemin” (“Are there people who want to embark on something greater than themselves? Are there people who want to find a way to change their little path?”)
Inuktitut an album from Elisapie, 2023
Although Elisapie’s fourth album is one of covers, it is nevertheless one of her most personal. Drawing on resurfaced musical memories, which constituted refuges for her people and herself against the erasure of their culture in the Far North, the Inuk artist translates a dozen pop and rock hits, from Fleetwood Mac to Led Zeppelin, into her language. The result is captivating and gives the original music a new aura with which it will never be able to part. The song “Qimatsilunga” (Queen’s “I Want to Break Free”) resonates with volcanic power, and Metallica’s “ The Unforgiven” becomes, with “Isumagijunnaitaungituq,” a bed of moving waters while adorning itself more than ever with its legendary calling. But with “Uummati Attanarsimat” (Blondie’s “Heart of Glass”), Elisapie hits a home run, the love story becoming as mystical as it is enveloping. An essential object of reappropriation, atmospheric and earthy.
