Les Buveurs de Brume is a little bit perplexing. Consisting of two works for dance by Hervé Diasnas, it presents only one half of a project (the other half being the choreography). It feels like listening to someone talking on the phone: you hear only one side of the conversation. The same applies here and Diasnas provides no explanation as to what goes on, not even a list of credits to confirm that he is sole responsible for the varied instrumentation (keyboards, percussion, accordion, objects, electronics). The main opus is the music for Les Buveurs de Brume, a dance quintet. Thirty-five minutes in duration, it occupies the first nine indexes on the disc. It opens on a poem read by Olivier Piechaczyk, "Nous Sommes des Buveurs de Brume" ("We are fog drinkers"). This first piece ends in a beat-heavy mood, but everything that follows hovers delicately, pairing skeletal melodies with strange yet familiar sounds: an accordion whining out of the fog, bowls and fluttering brushes on pans -- all evocative and friendly sounds detailing pieces that caress the ear without leaving a lasting impression. The other work is the ten-minute "Passage Éclair d'une Libellule (Sans Aile et au Ralenti)," which translates to "dragonfly quickly passing by (without wings and in slow motion)." The music for this aerial dance solo consists of electronics and percussion. The insect-like computer treatments and sine waves contrast sharply with what came before. Despite it being more demanding (or because of it?), it strikes the imagination with more strength. Considering the total duration of the album, it would have been possible to make it a CD-ROM and add one or two Quicktime movies of the dance performances. That would have helped put the music in context.
AllMusic Review by François Couture