Michel F. Côté's previous Bruire album was released in 1995. One cannot expect him to record anything similar six years later, especially since this project has undergone important transformation for each one of its incarnations. For this fourth opus (fifth, if one accounts for the cassette-only release Muss Muss Hic!), Côté recalled Jean Derome (on baritone saxophone) and turntablist Martin Tétreault, who both contributed to the beautiful 1995 L'Âme de l'Objet, and recruited jazz bassist Normand Guilbeault. The music is entirely improvised but set to a theme: rupestrian songs. The musicians favor atavistic forms of expression: grunts, heavier, coarse gestures. Not to say Chants Rupestres lacks subtlety, but Côté succeeded in giving it a prehistoric feel. As far as the Bruire project is concerned, this is not as compelling as L'Âme de l'Objet or as seductive as Les Fleurs de Léo. It stands aside, closer to the drummer's other main group, the trio Klaxon Gueule at its beginnings. Concept aside, these four musicians are excellent improvisers and a lot could be written about the chemistry taking place between Derome and Côté. So the best descriptive would be to say this is a strong free improv session, Ambiances Magnétiques style. The cardboard sleeve is adorned with hand-glued pieces of handmade paper to enhance the "primitive" theme.
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AllMusic Review by François Couture