Suche:jef gilson

Reissue of the sought after birth act of the Afro- / Jazz-Parisian scene that fascinated so many musicians and music fans throughout the 70s and 80s. Comes in a heavyweight tip-on sleeve.

'At the beginning of the 1960s, at the Berklee College of Music, Byard Lancaster met some feisty friends: Sonny Sharrock, Dave Burrell and Ted Daniel. It is easy to see why he rapidly became involved in free jazz. Once he was settled in New York, he appeared on Sunny Murray Quintet, recorded under the leadership of the drum crazy colleague of Albert Ayler.
'In 1968, the saxophonist and flutist recorded his first album under his own name: It’s Not Up To Us. The following year he came to Paris in the wake of… Sunny Murray. He would come back to France in 1971 (again with Murray) and in 1973 (without Murray for a change). This is when he met Jef Gilson, the pianist and producer who encouraged him to record under his own name again. On Palm Records (Gilson’s label), he would release four albums: Us, Mother Africa, Exactement and Funny Funky Rib Crib.

'Us, the first of the four records was recorded on November 24th, 1973 with Sylvin Marc on electric bass (a Fender… Lancaster?) and the evergreen Steve McCall on drums.
'On the album, the trio works from the John Coltrane model; free jazz shook up by the timely contributions of the bassist, followed by a mesmerizing atmospheric music. Then, Lancaster delivers a sinuous solo path, which is a reminder of his unique tone. On the album’s companion single, the trio launches into great black music of a different genre which would lead the clairvoyant François Tusques to claim that Byard Lancaster is an “authentic representative of soul/free jazz”, to sum up this is Great Black Music!'

On “Cold Sweat,” James Brown famously called to “give the drummer some.” In 1974, Philadelphia vibraphonist Khan Jamal called to Give the Vibes Some, with superb results. Pianist and composer Jef Gilson’s PALM label gave Jamal the platform he needed to deliver a thorough exploration of contemporary vibraphone. After launching PALM in 1973, Gilson quickly demonstrated that he would only produce records not found anywhere else. Give the Vibes Some, PALM number 10, was another confirmation of this guiding principle.

Raised and based in Philadelphia, Khan Jamal took up the vibes in 1968, after two years in the army during which he was stationed in France and Germany. Decisively drawn to the instrument by the work of the Modern Jazz Quartet’s Milt Jackson, Jamal studied under Philadelphia vibraphone legend Bill Lewis and soon made his debuts in the local underground.

Early in 1972, Jamal made his first recording, with the Sounds of Liberation. The band attempted an original fusion of conga-heavy grooves with avant-garde jazz soloing. Saxophonist Byard Lancaster, an important figure in Jamal’s development, contributed much of the solo work. Later in 1972, Jamal made his leader debut with Drum Dance to the Motherland, a reverb-drenched, never-to-be-replicated experiment with live sound processing. Both albums appeared on the tiny musician-run Dogtown label.

“We couldn’t get no play from nowhere. No gigs or recording sessions or anything. So I took off for Paris,” Jamal recalled in a Cadence interview with Ken Weiss. “Within a few weeks, I had a few articles and I did a record date. It didn’t make me feel good about America.” That was in 1974, while Byard Lancaster was recording the music gathered on Souffle Continu’s recent The Complete PALM Recordings, 1973-1974.

Jamal’s record date delivered Give the Vibes Some. At its core, it was an exploratory solo vibraphone album, even if two tracks added (through technological resourcefulness?) a très célèbre French drummer very much into Elvin Jones appearing under pseudonym for contractual reasons. Another track, for which Jamal switched to the vibes’s wooden ancestor, the marimba, added young Texan trumpeter Clint Jackson III. The most notable article published on Jamal during this stay in France was a Jazz Magazine interview. Jamal’s last word there were “The Creator has a master plan/drum dance to the motherland.” “Give the vibes some” could be added to this programmatic statement.

At the beginning of the 1960s, at the Berklee College of Music, Byard Lancaster met some feisty friends: Sonny Sharrock, Dave Burrell and Ted Daniel. It is easy to see why he rapidly became involved in free jazz. Once he was settled in New York, he appeared on Sunny Murray Quintet, recorded under the leadership of the drum crazy colleague of Albert Ayler.



In 1968, the saxophonist and flutist recorded his first album under his own name: It’s Not Up To Us. The following year he came to Paris in the wake of… Sunny Murray. He would come back to France in 1971 (again with Murray) and in 1973 (without Murray for a change). This is when he met Jef Gilson, the pianist and producer who encouraged him to record under his own name again.

On Palm Records (Gilson’s label), he would release four albums: Us, Mother Africa, Exactement and Funny Funky Rib Crib.



A few months after recording “Us”, Lancaster recorded “Mother Africa” along with Clint Jackson III, a trumpeter, partner of Khan Jamal or Noah Howard on other recordings.

On march 8th, 1974, Lancaster and Jackson headed up a group composed of Jean-François Catoire (electric and double bass), Keno Speller (percussion) and Jonathan Dickinson (drums).


Together, they create an immediate impression. From the first seconds of “We The Blessed”, they develop a free jazz which rapidly abandons any virulence under the effect of blues and soul based interventions.

When Gilson’s composition “Mother Africa” begins, listeners are transported into the studio, listening to the musicians setting up: chatting and joking… Then comes the melody: a dozen or so notes of a repeated theme which is accelerated and deformed according to their whims… The jazz played by the association Byard Lancaster / Clint Jackson III is rare: creative AND recreational. “We the blessed”, is apt listening to this again today!

This CD edition contains a bonus track, the magnificent “Love Always” that was originally released on the fourth (and last) volume of the Jef Gilson Anthology series released in 1975.


Recorded on 8th March 1974, it is a beautiful 15-minute-long modal jazz piece. Four notes from the bass (the relentless Jean-François Catoire, who makes up the rhythm section alongside drummer Jonathan Dickinson and percussionist Keno Speller), and the group is up and running!

On piano, Gilson shows the subtle tact of a sideman, leaving the lions’ share of the place to the horns. This allows us to hear the trumpet of Clint Jackson III and the alto (which sometimes sounds almost flute-like) of Byard Lancaster each staking their claim in a long hallucinatory march which moves from moments of direct exaltation to profoundly sensitive collective playing.

At the beginning of the 1960s, at the Berklee College of Music, Byard Lancaster met some feisty friends: Sonny Sharrock, Dave Burrell and Ted Daniel. It is easy to see why he rapidly became involved in free jazz. Once he was settled in New York, he appeared on Sunny Murray Quintet, recorded under the leadership of the drum crazy colleague of Albert Ayler.



In 1968, the saxophonist and flutist recorded his first album under his own name: It’s Not Up To Us. The following year he came to Paris in the wake of… Sunny Murray. He would come back to France in 1971 (again with Murray) and in 1973 (without Murray for a change). This is when he met Jef Gilson, the pianist and producer who encouraged him to record under his own name again.

On Palm Records (Gilson’s label), he would release four albums: Us, Mother Africa, Exactement and Funny Funky Rib Crib. “Us”, the first of the four records was recorded on November 24th, 1973 with Sylvin Marc on electric bass (a Fender… Lancaster?) and the evergreen Steve McCall on drums.


On the album, the trio works from the John Coltrane model; free jazz shook up by the timely contributions of the bassist, followed by a mesmerizing atmospheric music. Then, Lancaster delivers a sinuous solo path, which is a reminder of his unique tone. On the album’s companion single, the trio launches into great black music of a different genre which would lead the clairvoyant François Tusques to claim that Byard Lancaster is an “authentic representative of soul/free jazz”, to sum up this is Great Black Music!
crédits

On “Cold Sweat,” James Brown famously called to “give the drummer some.” In 1974, Philadelphia vibraphonist Khan Jamal called to Give the Vibes Some, with superb results. Pianist and composer Jef Gilson’s PALM label gave Jamal the platform he needed to deliver a thorough exploration of contemporary vibraphone. After launching PALM in 1973, Gilson quickly demonstrated that he would only produce records not found anywhere else. Give the Vibes Some, PALM number 10, was another confirmation of this guiding principle.



Raised and based in Philadelphia, Khan Jamal took up the vibes in 1968, after two years in the army during which he was stationed in France and Germany. Decisively drawn to the instrument by the work of the Modern Jazz Quartet’s Milt Jackson, Jamal studied under Philadelphia vibraphone legend Bill Lewis and soon made his debuts in the local underground.



Early in 1972, Jamal made his first recording, with the Sounds of Liberation. The band attempted an original fusion of conga-heavy grooves with avant-garde jazz soloing. Saxophonist Byard Lancaster, an important figure in Jamal’s development, contributed much of the solo work. Later in 1972, Jamal made his leader debut with Drum Dance to the Motherland, a reverb-drenched, never-to-be-replicated experiment with live sound processing. Both albums appeared on the tiny musician-run Dogtown label.



“We couldn’t get no play from nowhere. No gigs or recording sessions or anything. So I took off for Paris,” Jamal recalled in a Cadence interview with Ken Weiss. “Within a few weeks, I had a few articles and I did a record date. It didn’t make me feel good about America.” That was in 1974, while Byard Lancaster was recording the music gathered on Souffle Continu’s recent The Complete PALM Recordings, 1973-1974.



Jamal’s record date delivered Give the Vibes Some. At its core, it was an exploratory solo vibraphone album, even if two tracks added (through technological resourcefulness?) a très célèbre French drummer very much into Elvin Jones appearing under pseudonym for contractual reasons. Another track, for which Jamal switched to the vibes’s wooden ancestor, the marimba, added young Texan trumpeter Clint Jackson III. The most notable article published on Jamal during this stay in France was a Jazz Magazine interview. Jamal’s last word there were “The Creator has a master plan/drum dance to the motherland.” “Give the vibes some” could be added to this programmatic statement.

Black vinyl / 505mcn paper / 30 x 60 cm Insert with full interview to Khan Jamal II + extended liner notes printed on 300 gram Büttenpapierfabrik Gmund "No Color No Bleach" paper with exclusive pictures & much more!

Personnel:
Khan Jamal - Vibraphone, Marimba
Clint Jackson III - Trumpet
Hassan Rashid - Drums

Notes:
It's quite simple, if you have a good connection with music, to find things that should be reissued due to their exceptional quality, but, like a diviner, being able to unravel the problems related to the licensing of a record, well, that's much more difficult. Finding someone is Sherlock's job! After 4 years, Khan Jamal II (son of Khan Jamal) delighted us with a "Let's go my guy".
Khan Jamal doesn't need much introduction: Born Warren Robert Cheeseboro, he was a jazz vibraphone and marimba player from Philly. He founded the band Sounds of Liberation in 1970 with Byard Lancaster. In 1974, during one of his many trips to the old continent, he recorded this album in France at Jeff Gilson's Palm studio. It is a delicate game of lucid and intense contrasts between Christian Vander's drums provides a rock oriented touch, the marimba and the vibes with influences from the lands of the rising sun of Jamal and the composed trumpet of Clint Jackson III which anchor "Give the vibes Some" in a sort of Space Age Jazz era.
In the end, you know what? This album is a transcendent journey into yourself, like an intense session of meditation...even if "35.007 Feet Up" could easily be played by Jeff MiIls in his DJ Set!

Before coming to Europe, in 1970, pianist Manuel Villarroel was a vet in his native Chilli. A few years later, as leader of the Machi Oul Big Band, he returned to the animal kingdom. A very specific kind of animal, for sure, the Quetzalcoatl, also known as the Feathered Serpent. What is behind this title (also the name of one of the three original compositions on this album released on the Palm label in 1976), is first and foremost a sort of homecoming...

After discovering the jazz of Herbie Hancock, McCoy Tyner, Miles Davis and John Coltrane, Villarroel was taken by the free jazz which was all the rage at the time in America and Europe, and this would inspire the first version of his Machi-Oul, project. This was a septet, with which the pianist would record, in 1971, the tremendous Terremoto (re-released by Souffle Continu FFL085). After this masterstroke Villarroel was invited to record with Perception (Perception & Friends) and with Baikida Carroll (Orange Fish Tears). While these were notable contributions, Villarroel was already looking into other combinations.

“I had to deal personally with my situation as an expatriate, without disavowing it. I tried not to betray my roots, I tried to translate into my music what was essential to me, to reflect my origins – Latin America, its musical and above all human feelings – while remaining faithful to jazz, which is the mode of expression of the musicians in the group”. This then is the ‘homecoming’ we mentioned, which would incite Manuel Villarroel to compose what he would call “structured free music”. In January 1972 the pianist enlarged his formation to reach the size of a real big band: the Septet became the Machi-Oul Big Band. Three years later in January 1975, with producer Jef Gilson at the helm, fifteen musicians including those from the old Septet (Jef Sicard, François and Jean-Louis Méchali, Gérard Coppéré) worked on a rare form of jazz. From togetherness to dissonance, we danse to it “Bolerito” then shake it up on “Leyendas De Nahuelbuta”. As for the concluding serpent, it is a piece which is impossible to pin down: “Quetzalcoat” is as impressive as it is difficult to grasp. To remind ourselves of this, lets listen to it again.

"For a long time, I'd come across these discs without really understanding what connected them, apart from a button and that famous logo designed by René Dessirier. Then, with a little more digging, I discovered the "self-production" link. For choirs, schools, folk singers, young pop groups, popular homes and even great composers who engraved unique copies of certain recording sessions...

The French equivalent of the English "Derby Service", the Kiosque d'Orphée, formerly at 7 Rue Grégoire de Tours in the 6th arrondissement, was taken over by Georges Batard in 1967 and moved to 20 Rue des Tournelles in the 4th arrondissement of Paris. The adventure lasted until 1991. Georges Batard was a sound engineer who used a Neumann tube engraver to engrave acetates from the tapes he received, before printing the precious vinyls in the press factories of the day, where he was able to produce very small runs of between 50 and 500 copies.

Of course, there were other structures for releasing his records, such as Voxigrave or, later, FLVM, but none of them had so many records in their catalog. Le Kiosque d'Orphée was neither a label nor a publisher, but a structure that allowed you to press your own vinyl, at a time when it was quite an adventure to get your first 45 rpm or 33 rpm album released!

Georges Batard was described as passionate and conscientious. His son, bassist Didier Batard, wrote of him:
"Georges was passionate about recording and reproducing the stereo sound of his great passion, music. He paid close attention to distortion rates, signal-to-noise ratios, response curves, rise times and other damping factors in audio equipment. He was looking for the exact reproduction of concert hall sound in his living room (with the same sound level, if possible...). In the late '50s/early '60s, he found other sound enthusiasts in AFDERS (Association Française pour le Développement de l'Enregistrement et de la Reproduction Sonores). He became its honorary president. Every Saturday afternoon, its members met to test au- dio equipment. Their opinions were published in the monthly Revue du Son.

All you had to do was send in your tapes and choose the number of record copies you'd like to take home with you, so you could finally share your creations and, in a way, exist. You could opt for a generic sleeve, available in several colors, directly customizable with your name and credits, or you could design your dream sleeve yourself in your living room or at a printer's.

This "Do It Yourself" temple gave birth to some superb pouches. Stencilled, hand-written, illustrated with paintings, drawings, illustrations by friends or girlfriends of the time, photo prints hastily stuck in the middle of a blank, white sleeve, on which the traces of time would leave their imprints, so that collectors and the curious would come and buy them decades later, with the promise of a musical discovery, unfortunately not always fulfilled...

What most of these records have in common is the youth of their songwriters, whether or not they've had a career. Stories of buddies, of getting by and dreams of glory made up this catalog. Most of them were amateur productions, both in terms of the level of the musicians and the quality of the recordings, made on a two-track or, the ultimate luxury, a 4-track in a teenager's bedroom or parents' living room.

It was the beginning of the home studio, thanks to the advent of the Revox portable tape recorder. A bit of a shaky DIY system, but, in return, the luxury of setting no limits: one-sided tracks, no outside censorship, no artistic director, no manager, no Barclay or EMI/Pathé Marconi logos...

When you finally had your own record, you could give it away or sell it to friends, family or after concerts. You could also drop it off at the nearest record shop, with undisguised pride.

It was also a calling card that could be sent to radio stations or music labels, in the hope of launching a career...

Many of the protagonists in this story tried to sign with labels, but in those days, bridges were not so easy to build between one's hometown, or even one's village, and the major or more specialized label that might have released these records. At the time, the advertisements published in the press by the Kiosque d'Orphée opened up the field of possibilities for provincial composers. It was now possible to make their own record, without having to go through the process of signing with a label.

Some of the composers who have gone on to make a career have used this channel to release their first record or parallel projects (Claude Engel, Dominique A, Andy Emler, Michel Deneuve, Claude Mairet, Mick Piellard, Tristan Mu- rail...) and sometimes even single or very limited pressings of work or promotional copies (Bernard Parmegiani, Jef Gilson...).

This album is the conclusion of a long investigation, begun six years ago. It took a long time to find the records, scattered all over the place, in the homes of collectors and sometimes the musicians themselves, and then to listen to them, sometimes painstakingly, to unearth these moments of grace.

From this work, 23 tracks remain, but there are dozens of others that could have been included, so we had to choose, and the choice had to be as universal as possible. This selection is obviously not objective, but I hope you'll like it.

Today's music is raw, touching and powerful. "

Jean-Baptiste Guillot - Born Bad Records

Have you heard of the Nurse With Wound List? If you are a fan of creative-experimental-unlikely music, certainly. You would therefore be aware that amongst the recommendations that Steven Stapleton slipped into the first album of his group Nurse With Wound, were to be found a few restless frogs: Jef Gilson, Luc Ferrari, Jacques Thollot, Urban Sax, Horde Catalytique and last but not least Jean-Jacques Birgé and Francis Gorgé. Stapleton admired their album Défense de. The two Frenchmen just had to conceive of a fabulous precursor to the channel tunnel (check out the inside of the record, you’ll see) to enable Stapleton to come to France in 1980. The Englishman was looking for contributions to a compilation to be released on his United Dairies label that he had created with John Fothergill, and he naturally called on Birgé and Gorgé, who were then playing with Bernard Vitet in ‘Un drame musical instantané’.

It was a done deal and the compilation would be named In Fractured Silence. Alongside Nurse With Wound and Un drame musical instantané, could be heard Hélène Sage (whom Birgé introduced to Stapleton) and Sema, a project from the experimental British musician Robert Haigh who had participated in key records in the Nurse With Wound discography, such as Homotopy to Marie and Spiral Insana.

The curtain is raised and it is Un drame musical instantané who start the ball rolling. Mystery abounds; synthesisers lurk, percussion clatters and the sounds (creaks, whistles, vocal insertions...) fire in all directions. For the piano, it’s a debacle, the Drame won, Hélène Sage can take over. Heading up a quintette including Gorgé and Vitet, she creates a cushioned chamber music with strings and many silences.

On the B side, it’s the other side of the channel. Sema’s piano first off, which dares everything, even melody, before spilling out its darkest ideas in a raucous requiem. Finally, Stapleton appears, delving into his collection of female voices to devote himself to an iconoclastic transformation and concoct a song which collapses under the assault like Marianne at Agincourt. After having listened to In Fractured Silence, you will simply have to choose sides.

Have you heard of the Nurse With Wound List? If you are a fan of creative-experimental-unlikely music, certainly. You would therefore be aware that amongst the recommendations that Steven Stapleton slipped into the first album of his group Nurse With Wound, were to be found a few restless frogs: Jef Gilson, Luc Ferrari, Jacques Thollot, Urban Sax, Horde Catalytique and last but not least Jean-Jacques Birgé and Francis Gorgé. Stapleton admired their album Défense de. The two Frenchmen just had to conceive of a fabulous precursor to the channel tunnel (check out the inside of the record, you’ll see) to enable Stapleton to come to France in 1980. The Englishman was looking for contributions to a compilation to be released on his United Dairies label that he had created with John Fothergill, and he naturally called on Birgé and Gorgé, who were then playing with Bernard Vitet in ‘Un drame musical instantané’.

It was a done deal and the compilation would be named In Fractured Silence. Alongside Nurse With Wound and Un drame musical instantané, could be heard Hélène Sage (whom Birgé introduced to Stapleton) and Sema, a project from the experimental British musician Robert Haigh who had participated in key records in the Nurse With Wound discography, such as Homotopy to Marie and Spiral Insana.

The curtain is raised and it is Un drame musical instantané who start the ball rolling. Mystery abounds; synthesisers lurk, percussion clatters and the sounds (creaks, whistles, vocal insertions...) fire in all directions. For the piano, it’s a debacle, the Drame won, Hélène Sage can take over. Heading up a quintette including Gorgé and Vitet, she creates a cushioned chamber music with strings and many silences.

On the B side, it’s the other side of the channel. Sema’s piano first off, which dares everything, even melody, before spilling out its darkest ideas in a raucous requiem. Finally, Stapleton appears, delving into his collection of female voices to devote himself to an iconoclastic transformation and concoct a song which collapses under the assault like Marianne at Agincourt. After having listened to In Fractured Silence, you will simply have to choose sides.

'In 1972, trumpeter Baikida Carroll and some of his colleagues from the Black Artists Group (more precisely saxophonist/flutist Oliver Lake, trombonist Joseph Bowie, drummer Charles "Bobo" Shaw and trumpeter Floyd LeFlore) took the advice of their friends in the Art Ensemble Of Chicago and left their native Missouri to come and discover the bright lights of Paris for themselves. The following year they would even get the chance to record their only album which would rapidly attain mythical status and a collector’s item: “In Paris, Aries 1973”.

Therefore, it was not surprising that they crossed paths with Jef Gilson in the capital. He was always on the lookout for new artists for his recently formed Palm label and had been active on many fronts in jazz since the end of the 50s. The French bandleader / pianist / composer / sound engineer had already recorded, in the preceding months other American musicians who would go on to have great careers: Byard Lancaster, Keno Speller, Clint Jackson III, Khan Jamal... Gilson therefore offered Baikida Carroll the chance to record his first album under his own name, which would be the 13th release on the label. Carroll logically asked Oliver Lake to join him. He also recruited Manuel Villaroel, a young Franco-Chilien pianist from the group Matchi-Oul, who had already released an album on Futura in 1971 and would release another on Palm in 1976. The group was completed with the addition of Brazilian percussionist Naná Vasconcelos, who had just released a well-received album on the Saravah label. They were ready to enter the studio for the 3rd, 4th and 5th June 1974.

The first side of the album is divided into two long tracks which send free jazz back to its long-lost African roots. The opener “Orange Fish Tears” indeed rolls out a jungle of percussion of all sorts and sizes -the whole group is involved- which weave and mix together reaching a point where all bearings are lost, lending a sense of wonder to the majestic entry of the brass and woodwinds, flying suddenly out from the undergrowth. “Forest Scorpion” (sic) is a real voodoo ceremony where a venomous percussive groove backs the fiery solos from keyboards and saxophone in a furious trance. A warning; after these two tracks listeners are physically and emotionally wiped out!

The other side is more introspective. Deliberately using dissonance and repetition, “Rue Roger” -the only composition by Oliver Lake- in a long dialogue between trumpet and saxophone, could almost remind us of Terry Riley in his favourite ballpark. “Porte D'Orléans”, the fourth and final track on the album, has the group back to their old tricks in a long hallucinatory jam which owes as much to the contemporary music of György Ligeti as to the most angst-ridden Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack music (remember the heavy chords which beat through “Planet of the Apes»).

With these two sides, and in under 45m, Baikida Carroll and his musicians show just what they can do, from cerebral to charnel without ever simplifying things. This is an essential album if you are a fan of free-wheeling avant-garde music from the Art Ensemble of Chicago to Sonic Youth and including Shabaka Hutchings and Rob Mazurek. For those with good taste, in other words.'

Part of Tele Music Reissue Campaign, 2023 first time reissue, 140g vinyl

Wow! Pierre-Alain Dahan & Mat Camison's Rythmiques is another iconic release in the hallowed Tele Music catalogue. First appearing in 1973, it features tense funk, blunted jazz and heavy breaks all the way. Considered the rightful sequel to Continental Pop Sound, it's a vital album for producers and DJs; and you can probably guess that RHYTHM is central to the record's presentation. And you can really taste what's rhythm, to borrow a phrase. French drummer, percussionist and composer Pierre-Alain Dahan was a key member of the legendary Arpadys, Disco & Co, Voyage, Tumblack (with Wally Badarou, Mallia et al!) and Jef Gilson Septet whilst his partner here, Mat Camison, was a pioneering synth LORD. So, you know this Be With reissue is absolutely crucial.

The album picks up from where Continental Pop Sound left us, opening with the tense, stabbing thriller-funk of "Rythmiques N° 4". The dubbier "Rythmiques N° 5" is no less electric and definitely has a spacey air of wonky funk about it with the slightly off-kilter rolling piano. "Rythmiques N° 6" is more percussive-focussed with a brilliantly hypnotic opening that really stretches the drama out. “Rythmique N° 7” alternates between fast-paced, skipping drums and slo-mo funk, always with the clavinet high up in the mix. Wicked. The dope jazz of “Rythmique N° 8” truly mesmerises with licks of electric piano, funky bass flourishes and varied percussion. “Rythmique N° 9” has great, sloppy-yet-hard intro drums which sound like something Daft Punk could've pilfered circa Human After All, punctuated by a guitar rock refrain that repeats til the end but is never overdone. The A-Side closes with the beautiful, melancholic "Piano + Piano", a reflective jazzy piano track which could easily open a wide-ranging set this autumn and many after it. Stunning.

Opening Side B, "Auto Rythmiques" is a hectic yet compelling funk workout but it's all about the frankly devastating breakbeats on “Rythmiques N° 10 & N° 11” with effortlessly twisted funk bass lines over open drum breaks and enough tension and rhythmic switch-ups to keep your neck-snapping and your mind lifted. Downright essential. Taking leave from the heavy funk break action, the pastoral "Océan Horizon" is perhaps an unfairly overlooked highlight. A gorgeous, softly-aquatic, ambient gem, it's gently percussive with warm, floaty keys decorating the mellow rhythmic bed. The mercifully brief "Super Carrousel" is harmless fun-fair-funk but perhaps best skipped over whilst the intriguingly titled "Gay Shopping" is another throwaway exercise in inexcusable jaunt whilst. To close out this memorable set, thankfully, we're left with "Suspense N° 1" to get us back on course with its unsurprisingly tense mix of urgent stringed instruments that flirt with rhythm and melody yet the longer the track goes on. Deep.

One of the very best French drummers ever, Pierre-Alain Dahan began his career at the Blue Note in Paris with Sonny Stitt, Dexter Gordon and Daniel Humair. Some start, eh?! He also participated in the recording of Serge Gainsbourg's cult album 'La Ballade de Melody Nelson' before going on to make countless KILLER library funk records and be a key member in the legendary Arpadys, Disco & Co, Voyage, Tumblack (with Wally Badarou, Sauveur Mallia et al), Jef Gilson Septet (alongside Henri Texier) and many more. Some pedigree.

The audio for Rythmiques has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring this release sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original, iconic Tele Music house sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

A Tele Music CLASSIC from 1972, Pierre-Alain Dahan's Continental Pop Sound is of those library albums with something for everyone. Breaks? Check. Fuzz guitar? Check. Slower, jazzy stuff? Double check. It's a stunning collection of psychedelic rock, soulful funk and retro pop stylings that's currently going for over £200 on Discogs. And with good reason. French drummer, percussionist and composer Pierre-Alain Dahan was a key member of the legendary Arpadys, Disco & Co, Voyage, Tumblack (with Wally Badarou and Sauveur Mallia) and Jef Gilson Septet. So, you know this Be With reissue is nailed on essential.

Skip the by-numbers opener "Rock Extra" and head straight to the deeeeeep, minimalist groove of "Slowrama", a humid masterclass in low-slung, creeping crime funk with weighty breaks and beefy bass complimented by hypnotic wah-wah and warm electric piano. Sensational. It was sampled by Prince Po in 2004 for his "Love Thang" track. The galloping "Latin Pop Sound" is a percussive, Santana-esque tour de force featuring fantastic guitar shreds over a bassline to die for. "Morning Melody" is a lightweight amble whereas the brief but deliciously psych-rock heavy "Islam Blues" is a must for your mixes when requiring short segue tracks. The A-Side closes out with "Phasing Drums N° 1, 2 & 3", all completely ace. For us, N° 3 is the pick of the bunch, with particularly slooooow and deliberate drums underpinned by a droning, sinister organ. Hip-hop, before hip-hop, no less.

The genuine monster "Pacific Rock" blasts out the gate to usher in Side B, a thrilling and unrelenting pop-rock instrumental that really drives. "Quasimodo Pop" contains great slow mo funk breaks and scratchy guitars that alternate with pretty heavy riffing to create a compelling base track. "Carmel Beach" is as beautiful as the location it's named after, as insouciant guitars glide over super slo-mo beats and dramatic organ before it breaks down to a laconic, reflective electric piano showcase. Sumptuous. "Auto Moto Rallye" is a brief driving funk gem, as you might expect, complete with revved up guitars tuned and played to emulate the irresistible sound of growling race cars.

The upbeat, piano-led rock stomper "V.S.O.P Rock" is all well and good but, what you might really be here for is the trio of tracks that ensure the LP ends on an almighty high. The three most famous tracks “Rythmiques 1, 2 & 3” all come complete with *ultra*-dope breaks. N° 2 is probably our favourite, with the shuffling bassline and breaks combo augmented by the wonderful cowbell. Though on any other day, it could be N° 3! This album is often considered as the “baby brother” to Tele Music's Rythmiques, and this triptych is all the proof you need. Outstanding.

One of the very best French drummers ever, Pierre-Alain Dahan began his career at the Blue Note in Paris with Sonny Stitt, Dexter Gordon and Daniel Humair. Some start, eh?! He also participated in the recording of Serge Gainsbourg's cult album 'La Ballade de Melody Nelson' before going on to make countless KILLER library funk records and be a key member in the legendary Arpadys, Disco & Co, Voyage, Tumblack (with Wally Badarou, Sauveur Mallia et al), Jef Gilson Septet (alongside Henri Texier) and many more. Some pedigree.

The audio for Continental Pop Sound has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring this release sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original, iconic Tele Music house sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

Pierre-Alain Dahan & Slim Pezin's Neo Rythmiques is an absolute KILLER Tele Music library classic from 1976. It's absolutely sensational throughout, all scorching, uptempo jazzy soul funk that Mr James Brown himself would've been envious of. This is serious business with breaks for days. French drummer, percussionist and composer Pierre-Alain Dahan was a key member of the legendary Arpadys, Disco & Co, Voyage, Tumblack (with Wally Badarou, Mallia et al!) and Jef Gilson Septet. With Neo Rhythmiques, he's joined by his eternal guitar colleague Slim Pezin (Voyage, Manu Dibango, Nino Ferrer), so you know this Be With reissue is fundamentally vital.

Opener "Soul Car" is a swaggering, horn-drenched jazz-funk beast whilst the slick JBs funk of "Happy Penalty" is just plain irresistible. Definitely influenced by American funk flavours, it stands alone on its own right as a brilliant piece of music, no question about that. The blazing "Kuzi-Kuza" is again horn-fuelled but has a more exotic, Latino feel, all loose grooves and bastard blues with funky organ and shredding guitars. The stomping, proto-disco of "Mercy Boa" is a guitar-sizzled Bohannon-esque hypno-groove for adventurous dance floors the world over. Outstanding. And if all that wasn't enough from one half of a 70s French library LP, the A side ends with the monumental, stratospheric "Slim Bertha"! I mean, what can you even say about this absolute monster?! Slo-motion, deep drama funk breaks with jazzy guitar and gleaming percussion. Just sensational.

Side B opens with "Country + Country", a rather forgettable slice of piano driven bluegrass funk (?!) Aaaaannyway, "Super Airship" follows and is a driving fuzz-guitar psych-rock workout of the highest order. We're back on track now. The brilliantly titled "Electronic Mutation" is a total highlight, the funk most definitely returning and, indeed, strong in this one with its deep clean breaks (with some particularly ace hi-hats), echoey effects and funky clavs. "Africa Semper" follows, all funky percussion, trippy echo and distorted, psychy guitar licks. To close out the set, "Neo Rythmiques 1 and 2" form a great salvo of top-tier, percussion-heavy synthy-funk-fusion. For our money, the bugged-out echoey space-soul of "N° 2" just about edges it.

One of the very best French drummers ever, Pierre-Alain Dahan began his career at the Blue Note in Paris with Sonny Stitt, Dexter Gordon and Daniel Humair. Some start, eh?! He also participated in the recording of Serge Gainsbourg's cult album 'La Ballade de Melody Nelson' before going on to make countless KILLER library funk records and be a key member - alongside his partner here, Slim Pezin - in the legendary Arpadys, Disco & Co and Voyage. Dahan also featured in Tumblack (with Wally Badarou, Sauveur Mallia et al) and Jef Gilson Septet (alongside Henri Texier), whilst the CCCP Pezin backed, among others, Manu Dibango and Nino Ferrer. Some pedigree.

The audio for Neo Rythmiques has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring this release sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original, iconic Tele Music house sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

Paris, 1965. Pianist François Tusques laid the foundation stone of French-style free jazz with his first, soberly titled, album “Free Jazz”. Also in the team were several future key names of the French scene, (Michel Portal, Bernard Vitet, Beb Guérin, Charles Saudrais and François Jeanneau) all of whom honed their skills at the beginning of the decade in Jef Gilson’s groups, although he was none too fond of the turbulent new face of jazz at the time.

Ten years later, Jef Gilson had obviously changed his tune, as the label Palm that he had created in 1973 was now the launch pad for what would become the cream of French and international avant-garde jazz. This would notably be the case for François Jeanneau and “Une Bien Curieuse Planète”. His first album as leader (after briefly erring into pop with Triangle) was recorded in 1975, a few months after “Watch Devil Go” by his old friend Jacques Thollot, and with more or less the same casting: Jeanneau on sax of course, Jenny-Clark on bass and percussions, Lubat replacing Thollot on drums and Michel Grailler (plucked out of Magma) was called in as a reinforcement for his completely ‘out of space*’ synthetiser sounds. Thus began a strange trip to a very strange planet, at the border of experimental jazz and swinging avant-garde.

From 1960 to nowadays, from Georges Arvanitas to Laetitia Shériff, from Manu Dibango to “Mama” Béa Tékielski, everyone has wanted to play with François Jeanneau at some point. There is a good reason for this. The saxophonist is a formidable improviser, but also a solid composer, as he demonstrates on this record with, for example, the monumental “Droit d’Asile”, the spooky “Theme For An Unknown Island” or the Coltranesque “Mr J.C. For Ever”. Over half a century later, the planet seems far more familiar to us. And François Jeanneau is always on the front line for a guided tour.

Jérôme « Kalcha » Simonneau

With a discography held in such high esteem amongst fans of conceptual French pop and soundtrack composition, the likelihood of finding an unturned stone amongst maestro Jean-Claude Vannier’s fertile psychedelic rockery falls somewhere between slim and skeletal. Even the most intrepid explorers of the most fearless and fastidious nature should naturally expect to encounter one or two shadowy characters when braving the oblique corners of the Vannier vault, but few lost souls cast a darker silhouette than the cinematic obscurity known only as La Bête Noire (The Black Beast).

Lost and presumed missing for decades the soundtrack tapes to this lesser-known 1983 French thriller (featuring a cast culled from films such as Alphaville, The Modern Couple and Sweet Movie) captures the revered composer and arranger of Serge Gainsbourg’s Histoire De Melody Nelson embarking on a darker exploration of free jazz, frenzied batucadas and cyclic carousel psychedelia. Counting key players of the French jazz scene within its ranks, The Insolitudes group comprises a crack team of Palm/Futura/Actuel/Saravah regulars such as saxophonist Philippe Mate´ (Acting Trio/Mate´-Vallancien/Tacet) alongside drummer Bernard Labat (Mad Ducks) and legendary Arpadys/Voyage rhythm masters Marc Chantereau and Pierre-Alain Dahan (Brutus Drums) all of whom alongside Michel Zanlonghi (Ensemble De Percussion De Paris) make up this thunderous, tumultuous, four-headed rhythm machine bridging an authentic gap between The Jef Gilson Groups and France’s signature “cosmic” revolution. Naturally these previously unheard compositions are spearheaded by lead pianist and composer Vannier and for devotee’s of his 1972 concept album L’Enfant Assassin Des Mouche there is much to admire and cross-reference herein.

Having been the most loyal and long-running guardians of Jean-Claude’s monster archive over the past two decades Finders Keepers Records are proud to present this first catch of newfound vintage Vannier discoveries on this limited and unlikely free jazz 45 single (which should find a perfect home between coveted Euro jazz 7”s by Krzysztof Komeda, Franc¸ois Tusques and Brussels Art Quintet). Almost 15 years since Finders Keepers once liberated the

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)

In November 1976, Jef Gilson’s phone rang. What a surprise! It was Serge Rahoerson, one of the musicians he had met in Madagascar at the end of the 60s and who had played on his first album “Malagasy”. Rahoerson announced that he was in Paris for a few days.

Immediately, Jef wanted to organise a recording session, starting the next day. He thought of a trio including Serge, Eddy Louiss on organ and cellist Jean-Charles Capon, who had also been on one of the trips to Tananarive and so had also known Rahoerson there. Unfortunately, Eddy Louiss –who had already played with Gilson and Capon on the album “Bill Coleman Sings And Plays 12 Negro Spirituals” in 1968- had to drop out at the last minute: he was delayed by a session with Claude Nougaro. Jean-Charles Capon had also become a sought-after studio musician since his trip to Madagascar in 1969. He appeared on several key albums on the Saravah label including the now famous “Comme À La Radio” by Brigitte Fontaine, “Un Beau Matin” by Areski and “Chorus” by Michel Roques, without mentioning the album by his own Baroque Jazz Trio. He was also to be found with Jef Gilson for his album on Vogue with the ex-drummer from Miles Davis’ first great quintet, Philly Joe Jones, or also in the orchestra led by Jean-Claude Vannier for the album “Nino Ferrer & Leggs”. He also played regularly on albums by Georges Moustaki.

Jean-Charles Capon and Serge Rahoerson found themselves thus in the studio, with Jef at the controls. He had decided to record the rhythmic structure right away. He would find the soloists later, that didn’t worry him. Serge Rahoerson was on drums. Though a saxophonist by training, Jef remembered that Serge was also capable of great things behind a drum kit: he was the improvised drummer on their cover of “The Creator Has A Master Plan” on the album “Malagasy”... The great memories came flooding back (the nod on the title “Orly - Ivato”), and the old magic worked again.

Brought in momentarily from Europamerica, Gilson’s new big band, in which JC Capon also played, the saxophonists Philippe Maté, from France (another Saravah stablemate) and the American Butch Morris (soon to be a key member of David Murray’s band) were invited to record their parts later and Gilson mixed it all as if it had been one single session (as he had already done on other albums, with the tracks by Christian Vander recorded before the creation and success of Magma).

The album would not appear until 1977, on Palm, Jef’s own label, and was dedicated to the memory of Georges Rahoerson, Serge’s father, who had also played on the album “Malagasy” and who had died prematurely at the age of 51 in 1974.
“I only received my own copy of the album in 1981 when I came to live in France definitively”, a still-moved Serge Rahoerson told us in 2013. “I was playing in a club one night and Jef turned up by surprise with a copy of the album for me, I was so pleased to see him again. When I arrived in France, I told everyone that I had played with Jef Gilson a few years previously, and I was surprised to learn that so few people knew of him. For us, he was of one of the great jazz visionaries.” (Jérôme "Kalcha" Simonneau)

With a discography held in such high esteem amongst fans of conceptual French pop and soundtrack composition, the likelihood of finding an unturned stone amongst maestro Jean-Claude Vannier’s fertile psychedelic rockery falls somewhere between slim and skeletal. Even the most intrepid explorers of the most fearless and fastidious nature should naturally expect to encounter one or two shadowy characters when braving the oblique corners of the Vannier vault, but few lost souls cast a darker silhouette than the cinematic obscurity known only as La Bête Noire (The Black Beast).

Lost and presumed missing for decades the soundtrack tapes to this lesser-known 1983 French thriller (featuring a cast culled from films such as Alphaville, The Modern Couple and Sweet Movie) captures the revered composer and arranger of Serge Gainsbourg’s Histoire De Melody Nelson embarking on a darker exploration of free jazz, frenzied batucadas and cyclic carousel psychedelia. Counting key players of the French jazz scene within its ranks, The Insolitudes group comprises a crack team of Palm/Futura/Actuel/Saravah regulars such as saxophonist Philippe Mate´ (Acting Trio/Mate´-Vallancien/Tacet) alongside drummer Bernard Labat (Mad Ducks) and legendary Arpadys/Voyage rhythm masters Marc Chantereau and Pierre-Alain Dahan (Brutus Drums) all of whom alongside Michel Zanlonghi (Ensemble De Percussion De Paris) make up this thunderous, tumultuous, four-headed rhythm machine bridging an authentic gap between The Jef Gilson Groups and France’s signature “cosmic” revolution. Naturally these previously unheard compositions are spearheaded by lead pianist and composer Vannier and for devotee’s of his 1972 concept album L’Enfant Assassin Des Mouche there is much to admire and cross-reference herein.

Having been the most loyal and long-running guardians of Jean-Claude’s monster archive over the past two decades Finders Keepers Records are proud to present this first catch of newfound vintage Vannier discoveries on this limited and unlikely free jazz 45 single (which should find a perfect home between coveted Euro jazz 7”s by Krzysztof Komeda, Franc¸ois Tusques and Brussels Art Quintet). Almost 15 years since Finders Keepers once liberated the Mouches it is now time to set free another Black Beast amongst discerning listeners.