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A further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919). "Iivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka’s kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category. Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis. Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way. During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18). Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll’ tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it. The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived. The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release." — Arja Kastinen

A further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919). "Iivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka’s kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category. Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis. Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way. During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18). Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll’ tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it. The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived. The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release." — Arja Kastinen

Ike Yard remain a legendary band of early '80s New York City – at once immensely influential, yet obscured by a far-too-brief initial phase. Their debut EP, the dark and absorbing Night After Night, sounds almost like a different group, so rapidly would Ike Yard evolve towards the calmly menacing electro throb of their self-titled LP.
Originally released on Factory in 1982, the album put Ike Yard's indelible mark on the synth-driven experimental rock scene then emerging all over the planet. While historical analogues would be Cabaret Voltaire's Red Mecca or Front 242's Geography, opening track "M. Kurtz" makes starkly clear that Ike Yard is a far heavier proposition.
With a thick porridge of bass, ringing guitar and strangled/stunted layers of voice, these six pieces are densely packed and perversely danceable. "Loss" sounds like a minimal techno track that could have been made last week, while "Kino" combines Soviet-era imagery with sparse soundscapes à la African Head Charge's Environmental Studies.
Ike Yard somehow pull off the toughest trick in modern music: making repetition hypnotically compelling through subtle variation. The effect of Ike Yard's first LP can be heard in many genres – from industrial dance labels like Wax Trax to electro-punk bands and innumerable European groups (Lucrate Milk, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, etc.).
The fact that the cover artwork does not include any photos of the band, but rather features the original catalogue number (FACT A SECOND) only further illustrates the release's importance and Ike Yard's timeless mystique.




Editions Mego reissue the 2001 release Asuma by Finnish artist Ilpo Väisänen. Originally released on CD this is the first ever vinyl issue, remastered by Rashad Becker. 2001 is a landmark year for the artist following a wave of success from the notable outfit Väisänen formed alongside Mika Vanio, Pan Sonic (as they were now known then). Following a string of highly acclaimed and influential releases such as “Vakio”, “Kulma”, “A’ and “Aaltopiiri” Pan Sonic had toured the globe extensively leaving a trail of blown expectations and rumours of all manner of objects in venues cracking or falling apart due to the immense sound the duo concocted with their unique instruments.
Taking a break from the ecstatic cacophony of Pan Sonic, Väisänen retreated to work on a solo release which conjured the spirits of the former outfit whilst simultaneously carving out a more personal take on these new electronic forms.
Asuma is a precise study of drones, rhythms, clicks, ambience and gentle confusion. Whilst inhabiting a zone of abstraction the results also move in a natural field as Väisänen’s native Finland permeates these recordings as much as the idea of experimentation itself.
Autioitu 1 opens the album as delicate pinball rhythms bounce across the spectrum as a hairy drone hovers underneath. The mood is both intriguing and unsettling. Tukahduttaja is a delightfully disorientating sound sculpture that is hard to pinpoint what it actually is. Klikki is comparable to a microscopic version of Pink Floyd’s “Several Species Of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together In A Cave And Grooving With A Pict”. Asumaton is a foreboding miniature acting like a segway to Vallitseva which embraces the icy clicks that punctuates much of the Pan Sonic output. Arvioimaton Ongelma is an audio riddle whilst Jaettu jitters around a dancefloor crawl. Autioitu closes proceedings as a gentle ambient thumper. Asuma is awash with contradiction and mystery. This is time wrapped in twisted turns and rewards a neat payoff for those interested in the absolute fringes of electronic ‘dance’ music.

フィンランド電子音楽界の生ける伝説であり、Mika Vainioらと共にPan Sonicでも活躍した実験的作家、Ilpo Väisänenによる2022年の12インチ作品をストック。今この時間も繰り広げられ続けている、無視できない殺戮と破壊に対する、鎮静と鎮魂が込められた、力強く瞑想的な、漆黒のポスト・インダストリアル作品。版元は、「自由と独立のために戦うすべての人々に捧げる」ウクライナの新しいレーベルであり、MuslimgauzeやMerzbow、Noémi Büchiの作品も発表している 〈I Shall Sing Until My Land Is Free〉。Noel Summervilleによるマスタリング&カッティング仕様と盤質も万全。
「この侵略には依然として反対だ。夏は最高だが、一部の人にとってはそうではないのだ。ロシアはウクライナで残忍な戦争を続け、民間人を爆撃し、民間人を殺害し、都市や村を意図的に破壊している。
戦争は続いており、ロシアの戦略はそれを長引かせ、西側諸国がいつかすべてを忘れるようにすることである。プーチンは、エネルギーと食料を武器として使い、我々の団結を破壊しようとしている。
現在、ヨーロッパで大量虐殺が起きていることを指摘したい。ちくしょう、今ここにあると。忘れるな!」
- Ilpo Väisänen

Dave Huismans (ex_libris, A Made Up Sound) presents In Transit, a self-titled LP of arresting downtempo vignettes, with origins dating back to over a decade ago.
Renowned for some of this century’s most notorious rhythmic advances, the work of Dave Huismans (fka A Made Up Sound and 2562) continues to provide a blueprint for new generations of innovation-obsessives. After a long hiatus from releasing original material, he returned in 2025 with two beloved EP’s as ex_libris. Now he returns to FELT as In Transit, following up on his remix of Civilistjävel! from 2023.
Borrowing its name from the closing dialogue of a novel by Dutch author Hella S. Haasse, In Transit was written in just two weeks in the summer of 2013 on a Korg ESX sampler. Since then, he has patiently refined its constituent parts.
Over the course of 38 minutes across six tracks, In Transit maps out an absorbing vista. The music shimmers with a celestial quality, underpinned by rhythmic stamina and creeping intensity. Tangential to Huismans’ previous work, the beats here are decentred and further scattered, acting as buoys to the constantly evolving and intricate narratives of layered textures.
In Transit marks a fascinating new addition to Huismans’ sprawling catalogue, a truly remarkable racket to be crafted with such humble means, finding a suitable context within FELT’s continued venture into parallel sounds.


In the midst of a series of great domestic new age/ambient reissues this year, including works by Mkwaju Ensemble, Motohiko Hamase, and Joe Hisaishi, here comes the long awaited pure ambient masterpiece! The monumental 1983 debut album by Inoyama Land, a synthesizer unit formed by Makoto Inoue and Yasushi Yamashita, former members of the still active techno-pop and avant-garde group Hikashu, has been digitally mixed down from the original multi-track tapes. The original 1983 album was digitally mixed down from the original multitrack tapes and reissued for the first time in 35 years.
The original 1983 album was released on MEDIUM, a subsidiary of the YEN label hosted by Haruomi Hosono. The original version of the album was released in 1983 on MEDIUM, a YEN label owned by Haruomi Hosono. The original version was known to be one of the most sought after by enthusiasts around the world, and both the LP and CD versions were extremely expensive. The origin of the album title comes from a childhood memory of Yamashita's friend playing with the song "Dan jin dan posidon! The title of the album was taken from the scene where Yamashita's friends used to play while saying "Dan jin dan posidon! The album was recorded using the "Water Delay System," a method devised by Hosono in which microphones and speakers are installed in a tank of water to create a unique, crystal-clear sound. From the ambient sounds colored by meditative synth layers, to the lovely home recordings, to the premature electronica feel, to the occasional avant-wave appearance, this is a masterpiece of originality and a playful piece of work. This is the pinnacle of unique music that lies somewhere between new wave and ambient. This is a masterpiece that is highly recommended for all environmental music and new age fans, including Hiroshi Yoshimura, Midori Takada, Yumiko Morioka and others!
In the 1980s, there was a unique music in between new wave and ambient. In the 1980's, there was a unique music between new wave and ambient, and Japanese music released in that period is now being heard around the world. Inoyamaland is one of the rarest of them all, and has not been forgotten. I was still involved in the release of the album 35 years ago, but the submission of the lost homework was a fresh surprise. The strange comfort of the region called Inoyamaland, like listening to a weather report, has not changed.
Harumi Hosono, July 11, 2018

Originally recorded in the early 1990s, inrain's 'Rise' sweeps up the only material from A.R. Kane's Rudy Tambala and Cranes vocalist Alison Shaw, a long-lost bridge between shoegaze, dub, electro and trip-hop. Essential listening if yr into Seefeel, Locust or Zurich. Back in 1991, inrain appeared on Rough Trade's Singles Club series with a brief but brilliant 7" that sounded as if it'd been beamed in from another planet. A.R. Kane had been forward thinking, sure, but these three tracks - 'Grow', '...And Julie Rose' and 'Sleep' - juxtaposed Shaw's dreamy vocals with dubby, spacious electronics and shimmering guitars in a way that wouldn't really rise to prominence until years later. Music From Memory does the heavy lifting here, remastering that original 7" from the original DAT tapes and adding the extra track 'Biology' and an alternate version of 'Sleep' to bump up the package. But it's those original tracks that have us by the throat - we really can't believe they've been so slept on over the years. '...And Julie Rose' sounds like it should have been picked up for a Duophonic release a decade later, while 'Sleep' completely pre-empts Seefeel's 'More Like Space EP' that wouldn't appear for another couple of years. Prophetic stuff.
At the end of 1970, having worked on his free jazz “made in France” and, with his Intercommunal Free Dance Music Orchestra, sung the blues with all the regional accents of the country, François Tusques made his contribution to the traditional music of a region he knows well: Brittany. With the electric bass of Tanguy Le Doré and the bombards and bagpipes of Jean-Louis Le Vallegant, Gaby Kerdoncuff and Philippe Lestrat, the Intercommunal becomes a kind of Brotherhood Of Breizh. But if the swell and the sway remind us of Chris McGregor, the repetitions and dissonances soon rock the boat. Bracing, the wind in Brittany!
If the jazz of François Tusques is “free”, his spirit is even more so: having recorded Free Jazz with other like-minded Frenchmen (Michel Portal, François Jeanneau, Bernard Vitet, Beb Guérin and Charles Saudrais), the pianist had covered a lot of ground, with Barney Wilen (Le Nouveau Jazz) or even solo (Piano Dazibao and Dazibao N°2), so as not to repeat himself…
In 1971 he founded the Inter Communal Free Dance Music Orchestra which, as the notes the this album stated, “is an interpretation of a music which sythesizes the different communities living and working in France.” In 1976, on the first album (L’Inter Communal) we can already hear Tusques playing without borders in the company of Carlos Andreu (vocals), Michel Marre (trumpet and saxophone), Jo Maka (saxophone) and Ramadolf (trombone). It is a meeting between jazz and music from Catalonia, Occitanie and Africa. So far so good, but what about Brittany, that, Tusques knows “by heart”?
Having lived for a long time in Nantes, he would expand his ‘brittanitude’ on the canal linking the aforementioned city to Brest by playing with, for example the Diaouled-Ar-Menez. With these “devils from the mountain” who, under the baton of Yann Goasdoué, worked throughout the 1970s on the renewal of music from Brittany, Tusques met, notably, Tanguy Ledoré and invited him one day, with trois bombards and some bagpipes (Jean-Louis Le Vallegant, Gaby Kerdoncuff and Philippe Lestrat), to join the ranks of the Intercommunal. And so they set of towards a new music from Brittany, as the title states; Vers une Musique bretonne nouvelle!
With percussion from Samuel Ateba and Kilikus, the association launches the ‘bombardier’: the repetitions and dissonance of the different members all serve a common cause however: the dance, which is always the reason for the party. This sets a whole universe spinning, which can bring to mind Chris McGregor’s Brotherhood Of Breath (“La rencontre”) when not taking on board waltz, swing, blues and gavotta or even revealing mysteries like those of Gurdjieff (“Les racines de la montagne” or “Le cheval” sung by Andreu). Only one thing to say to this Brotherhood Of Breizh: Mersi!

At the end of 1970, having worked on his free jazz “made in France” and, with his Intercommunal Free Dance Music Orchestra, sung the blues with all the regional accents of the country, François Tusques made his contribution to the traditional music of a region he knows well: Brittany. With the electric bass of Tanguy Le Doré and the bombards and bagpipes of Jean-Louis Le Vallegant, Gaby Kerdoncuff and Philippe Lestrat, the Intercommunal becomes a kind of Brotherhood Of Breizh. But if the swell and the sway remind us of Chris McGregor, the repetitions and dissonances soon rock the boat. Bracing, the wind in Brittany!
If the jazz of François Tusques is “free”, his spirit is even more so: having recorded Free Jazz with other like-minded Frenchmen (Michel Portal, François Jeanneau, Bernard Vitet, Beb Guérin and Charles Saudrais), the pianist had covered a lot of ground, with Barney Wilen (Le Nouveau Jazz) or even solo (Piano Dazibao and Dazibao N°2), so as not to repeat himself…
In 1971 he founded the Inter Communal Free Dance Music Orchestra which, as the notes the this album stated, “is an interpretation of a music which sythesizes the different communities living and working in France.” In 1976, on the first album (L’Inter Communal) we can already hear Tusques playing without borders in the company of Carlos Andreu (vocals), Michel Marre (trumpet and saxophone), Jo Maka (saxophone) and Ramadolf (trombone). It is a meeting between jazz and music from Catalonia, Occitanie and Africa. So far so good, but what about Brittany, that, Tusques knows “by heart”?
Having lived for a long time in Nantes, he would expand his ‘brittanitude’ on the canal linking the aforementioned city to Brest by playing with, for example the Diaouled-Ar-Menez. With these “devils from the mountain” who, under the baton of Yann Goasdoué, worked throughout the 1970s on the renewal of music from Brittany, Tusques met, notably, Tanguy Ledoré and invited him one day, with trois bombards and some bagpipes (Jean-Louis Le Vallegant, Gaby Kerdoncuff and Philippe Lestrat), to join the ranks of the Intercommunal. And so they set of towards a new music from Brittany, as the title states; Vers une Musique bretonne nouvelle!
With percussion from Samuel Ateba and Kilikus, the association launches the ‘bombardier’: the repetitions and dissonance of the different members all serve a common cause however: the dance, which is always the reason for the party. This sets a whole universe spinning, which can bring to mind Chris McGregor’s Brotherhood Of Breath (“La rencontre”) when not taking on board waltz, swing, blues and gavotta or even revealing mysteries like those of Gurdjieff (“Les racines de la montagne” or “Le cheval” sung by Andreu). Only one thing to say to this Brotherhood Of Breizh: Mersi!

Concert at Prades-le-Lez marks the origins of the Intercommunal Free Dance Music Orchestra. In 1974, François Tusques and his companions (Michel Marre, Jo Maka, Adolf Winkler and Guem), in the spirit of Don Cherry or Chris McGregor, playfully dismantle all borders and all styles of creative music. On this first volume, the Intercommunal takes its audience from New Orleans to Brittany and on to North Africa. The journey was bold, without a doubt—and its memory remains unforgettable. “The music that we make is primarily meant to be listened to live,” warned a leaflet from the Intercommunal Free Dance Music Orchestra. This is precisely why the (restored!) reissue of the two volumes of Concert at Prades-le-Lez, recorded on January 25 and 26, 1974 by François Tusques and his comrades, is such an important event. In 1971, after recording a series of albums that would leave a lasting mark on French jazz (Free Jazz, of course, with Michel Portal, François Jeanneau, Bernard Vitet, Beb Guérin and Charles Saudrais, but also Le Nouveau Jazz with Barney Wilen, or the solo Piano Dazibao), François Tusques founded the Intercommunal—a grouping whose very name called for the fraternization of the various communities making up the country: Our music will help, we hope, to resolve the contradictions that exist between workers belonging to different communities, by breaking down various forms of national chauvinism, and more particularly the chauvinism of certain French people toward the cultures of Third World countries… Long live the friendship between the peoples of the whole world! Among the great records made by the Intercommunal Free Dance Music Orchestra, the two volumes of Concert at Prades-le-Lez come first, before L’Inter Communal, Vol. 4, Le Musichien, and Après la marée noire (four titles already reissued by Souffle Continu). François Tusques and his companions (Michel Marre and Jo Maka on saxophones, Adolf Winkler on trombone, and Guem on percussion) performed on January 25 and 26, 1974 at the Moulin de Prades-le-Lez, a few kilometers from Montpellier. It was thus in the southern region of Occitanie that the first echoes of this musical vision of a borderless brotherhood were recorded. “We’re not among the Colonels,” the Intercommunal reassures us right away, performing a stride piano tune carried by African winds that the audience cannot resist for long. The energy is already striking and it never lets up throughout these two recordings, from start to finish: jazz, blues, traditional music, minimalism, even funk… The musicians of the Intercommunal have heard a lot of great music and now delight in reinventing it by mixing it all together. “We want the song form to take its place as a weapon in the struggle against capitalist exploitation and all those who oppress us morally and materially,” declared an Intercommunal leaflet, quoting Jean-Baptiste Clément, author of the lyrics to “Le Temps des cerises.” The struggle was therefore serious—but it did not prevent François Tusques and his group from waging it in a festive spirit: each piece on Concert at Prades-le-Lez sends out a call for love and fraternity. Fifty years later, the message remains as relevant as ever—and once again, it is François Tusques who makes it heard.
