Buscar:ciel why me

Under the alias Ciel, Xi'an-born/Toronto-based producer, pianist, DJ, and Discwoman affiliate Cindy Li embodies the social conscience of progressive electronic music. She is at once a local and global artist, having flourished at the fringe of cutting-edge club culture since 2015, firmly rooted in her adopted city while reaching increasingly outward, her sets echoing from Berlin’s Berghain to Chicago’s Smartbar to Lisbon’s Lux Fragil. Back in Toronto, she co-runs the label Parallel Minds and event initiative Work In Progress, an extension of her radio show in both name and M.O. to improve female representation in the scene. She’s helped write safe space policies, hosted DJ workshops, and applied activist pressure on promoters through varying methods with a single-minded resolve. Those efforts have evoked responses, which Li has spent time reckoning with over the past two years. Now, manifesting as a self-guided reaction to her experiences as an artist and activist is Ciel’s Spectral Sound debut, Why Me?, a deeply personal and physical work.

Ciel’s stylistic pocket as a producer remains that of “soft-touch slammers,” but fans will note the material on Why Me? hits harder. “I wanted to write something that was heavy,” she says of the title track, the result of processing the noise leveled at her specifically after she amassed a database of female and nonbinary talents to highlight the lack of bookings amongst a subset of clubs in the community. “I was dealing with a lot... anger, despair, paranoia, feeling unjustly targeted.” She channeled these antiphons into her art. The cut’s namesake is sourced from the foregrounded sample, a snippet of dialogue from an old film about a man who believes he’s been abducted by aliens. Pulsing metallic drum patterns steer through the hypnotic passage; permeating beneath the beats are lush pads, washing the rattled urgency with unease.

Hardware-built tracks “Go Fish” and “Uri’s Song” came together over studio time with friend and occasional collaborator Colin Sims aka Wiretapping. Ciel brought her sampler to the sessions, with Sims contributing additional drums, which she’d arrange further at home, adding synth parts and basslines and effects, distilling it all down to its most potent core. The latter track — an effervescent minimal techno exercise both tender and tough — expresses Li’s reflections on today’s cyclical conditions for activism, dissension, and, ultimately, optimism. “These are harsher sounds but they also have elements that are really beautiful about them. I wanted to communicate that nothing is permanent, that there’s always hope for understanding and resolution.”

To write these few lines, we spoke to saxophonist François Jeanneau, an old friend of Jacques Thollot who also played on several of his albums, including the “Watch Devil Go” which interests us here. He told us a story which, according to him, sums up the personality of Thollot. A noted studio had reserved three days for a Thollot recording session. The first morning was devoted to sound checks and putting some order in the score sheets which Jacques would hand out in a somewhat anarchic manner. Then everyone went for lunch. When the musicians returned to the studio, Thollot had disappeared. He wasn’t seen again for the three days. When he reappeared, he had already forgotten why he had left, The music of Jacques Thollot is in the image of its’ author: it takes you somewhere, suddenly escapes and disappears, returning in an unexpected place as if nothing had happened.

Four years after a first album on the Futura label in 1971, Jacques Thollot returned, this time on the Palm label of Jef Gilson, still with just as much surrealist poetry in his jazz. In thirty-five minutes and a few seconds, the French composer and drummer, who had been on the scene since he was thirteen, established himself as a link between Arnold Schoenberg and Don Cherry. Resistant to any imposed framework and always excessive, Thollot allows himself to do anything and everything: suspended time of an extraordinary delicacy, a stealthy explosion of the brass section, hallucinatory improvisation of the synthesisers, tight writing, teetering on the classical, and in the middle of all that, a hit; the title-track - that Madlib would one day end up hearing and sampling.

“Watch Devil Go” was in the right place in the Palm catalogue, which welcomed the cream of the French avant-garde in the 70s. But it is also the story of a long friendship between two men. Jacques Thollot and Jef Gilson had known and respected one another for a long time. Though barely sixteen years old, Thollot was already on drums on the first albums by Gilson starting in 1963 and would play in his big band (alongside François Jeanneau once again), ‘Europamerica’, until the end of the 70s.

In a career lasting half a century and centred on freedom Jacques Thollot played with the most important experimental musicians (Don Cherry, Sonny Sharrock, Michel Roques, Barney Wilen, Steve Lacy, François Tusques, Michel Portal, Jac Berrocal, Noël Akchoté...) and they all heard in him a pulsation coming from another world. (Jérôme "Kalcha" Simonneau)