Diane Dusfresne and Péloquin Sauvageau: Richard Meltzer's Quebec

 

CLICK THE PICTURE ABOVE TO READ

Let's be honest, my schtick here from Day 1 was I was the only American who cared about music from Quebec. Of course that was never true, although I had thought I was the first one to write about it, as I never saw anything anywhere else.  So, imagine my surprise when I found this Richard Meltzer review of not one,  but two Quebecois records in the March 1974 issue of Creem magazine.  My man beat me to the punch by 30something years!

Richard Meltzer in the 70's shown above

This may speak to Meltzer's ennui at that point, as he has written repeatedly about, prior to the arrival of punk rock, being burned out and disillusioned with the state of the corporate rock n roll world in the mid 70s..  And certainly to me, that was something that attracted me to Quebec's music: it was different from American and British stuff. So, I dig getting this message in a bottle from another music connoisseur separated by time and space. 

Meltzer starts off the review by telling us Quebec is "better'n Toronto, Ontario, and Prince Edward Island put together."  (Fact check: this is true)  He then explains he is in Montreal for the press party for Diane Dufresne's album A Part De D'Ça, J'Me Sens Ben / Opéra Cirque.  

Perhaps I'm being uncharitable, but I'm assuming Meltzer took the invite for a free trip to Montreal (wouldn't you?) and didn't know or care much about the act.  This is not pure conjecture, this is the era where Meltzer was, again, totally fed up with the Rock Biz and would do things like review a Neil Young concert he didn't go to by saying Neil Young read a bunch of poems in the middle of his set and they were really good, and then he would print a bunch of poems actually written by one R. Meltzer.  

Anyway, Meltzer has bad things to say about the aesthetics of the ceiling of the Montreal planetarium  (perhaps foreshadowing his architecture critic period of a few years later), but good things to say about Dusfresne:

 Eg.the very near end of “La marche nuptiale des condamnes a mort’’ where she screams/ cries/moans/ sobs/ whimpers/ yodels her pepsi arse off like it ain’t been done. Scout’s honour. Got Bonnie Bramble and Janis beat by the diameter of Neptune. Yoko too. 

He is perhaps a little more genuine in his praise for the poet Claude Peloquin and his record with the synth player Jean Sauvageau:

Nother time up in New France I’m drinkin Labatt with Claude Peloquin the poet and author of books that even Belgians read. He’s as pop-yule-r locally as Rod McKuen in Podunk but he writes more like one of those whatstheirnames like Michael McClure or somebody. Knows Jodorowsky. Digs Buddy Rich and circus clowns. Believes in physical immortality! Lotsa luck chum but he’s o.k. and will talk to anglo-honkies in their native tongue.

I have been buying Quebecois records for over 20 years, but have to admit, I was not conversant with the work of Claude Peloquin. But, Meltzer is right, the Péloquin Sauvageau album is a banger.  Like the missing link between the Silver Apples and Suicide. It was reissued in the past few years, so getting a vinyl copy is pretty easy nowadays (and highly recommended).  Listen below:

Going through Claude Peloquin's Discogs page, I realized I should know the name, he wrote the lyrics to the song Lindbergh by Robert Charlebois, the first musician from Quebec I ever wrote about. 

I figure this dilettante Meltzer goes up to Montreal once (ok, TWICE) and makes mincemeat of me on my turf. Forget Christgau, this guy is the dean of the rock criticism game!  But, turns out, in the mid-70's, Meltzer was as charmed by Montreal as I am, and had been there "seven, maybe eight" times (by his count, as noted in his book "L.A. Is the Capital of Kansas") before he considered moving there:

Montreal, but an hour from LaGuardia or JFK in case I got homesick, boasted at the time an offbeat, essentially French-flavored rockscene only I, among U.S. anglophones, had chosen so far to chronicle, this appealing to the elito-archaeologist in me. In addition they had a real wowser of a sportscene, deep both in content (major-league hockey and baseball; CFL football; TV access to usual American crap) and consciousness (hipper fans than I'd seen for anything anywhere else; sportswriters, some of whom I'd had drinks and laughs with, who seemed to know their ass from Uranus), which appealed-ain't-the-word to my latent sportswrite pretensions. Hey, here was my change to finally kiss this teenage rock-roll bluh bluh goodbye, to at least begin to finesse a transition, and better timing than the Montreal Olympics on tap for the following summer?   And the summer, that year: '76, Did I really want to endure the BICENTENNIAL in America?  I did not. (Points for Montreal.)

But, much as I'd always liked snow, even slush, Montreal winters were Something Else; muffle up, I'd been told, or lose your earlobes. And I'd have to learn French, really learn it, not just rehash a couple-three verb drills from high school, or run the risk (Come the Great Quebec Heave-Ho) or being one lonely chien anglais, my bilingual French chums no longer willing to English me (and my Anglo chums long gone to Toronto). Plus I'd probably have trouble with work papers, customs charges on my possessions and shit- so scratch Canada.  

It's too bad he didn't make it happen, as Metlzer soured on LA and ended up in Portland, which is definitely not as cool as Montreal (but is warmer in the winter). But, it's really cool that Meltzer plugged some Quebecois records in, at the time, the hippest music magazine in America.  Unless there were some readers in Plattsburgh, NY or upnorth Vermont, I can't imagine any fan reading this had a chance to check out the Peloquin Sauvageau album at their local disc emporium (Oddly enough, the Dusfresne record is one of a handful of Quebecois records that I see often enough in the bins in New York and New England).  It would have been fun had Meltzer continued in this vein.  After all, Lucien Francoeur has the same sort of spoken word rap as Peloquin and the first few Aut'Chose records are very proto-punk in spirit, would have been fun to have seen that reviewed in Creem alongside import copies of the first Doctor Feelgood album in '75. 

Donald Seward

When I started buying records at the dawn of the digital era,  entire generations of collectors were dumping their vinyl for CDs and stores were pricing shit to move.  

It's difficult to adjust to an era where former dollar bin staples like Fleetwood Mac and Eagles go for 20 bucks because the kids need something to play on that Crosley they got for Christmas. Fine, you say, who cares?  Let people overpay for junk, for I am a person of taste!  Cool, well Double Nickels on the Dime by the Minutemen now costs 100 dollars...  Basically, if you don't already own a copy of certain things yet, be happy with the mp3 or hope that those great folks at VinylMePlease make your hidden gem the record of the month for August.

But, all is not lost!  If your record wants haven't been recently used in a Netflix series, mentioned by an influential podcast host, or put on the type of world music compilation record that boutique hotels used to play in their lobby bars during Sunday brunch, you may be in luck.  Although the price of super common garbage records and rare high end stuff has gone up, the price of many mid-range records has gone down.  Some of this is due to technology (if anyone is still sampling drum breaks in 2020, they can do so off an mp3), some of it is just due to record trends (today's GOTTA HAVE IT is tomorrow's MEH), and some because the internet has shown that records previously considered rare or exotic were actually pressed up in considerable quality (just not close to you, dog).  This doesn't explain how discovering there are 100,000 copies of a funky Polish prog record has lowered the cost, but each of the 20 million copies of Rumours is now worth 10 times what it was 10 years ago. Many of the Wall Of Fame records of the early 2000's can now be found for less than the price of a Record Store Day Billy Joel Glass Houses (clear vinyl pressing) reissue. 

I recently got a copy of Donald Seward À L’Orgue for 8 dollars.  This is a record I used to see on the wall of every record store in Montreal for at least 50 bucks, and one that used to sell for upwards of 100 bucks on the Internet.  

This would be an interesting lesson in supply/demand, but I doubt that many of these were ever pressed.  It's on singer Tony Roman's Revolution label, best known for a few experimental albums with FREAK OUT TOTAL written on their back sleeves, and for quite a few leftfield pop/rock 45's with a tinge of psych. 

Although Tony Roman was a young man at the time, he had the mentality of an old school music business huckster and would put out anything for a buck (hence the release of Stéphane Chante Engelbert Humperdinck Et Tom Jones), and this record sort of splits the difference between the two sides of the label.  If you want to hear cocktail lounge organ jazz played by a garage rock band, this is the record for you. And I basically just mean "YOU" because this record is an acquired taste, and hence why it now goes for under 10 bucks.  

For the life of me, I have no idea why anyone would ever pay more than 20 bucks for this record.  Even the coolest song on it, "Studio 'B' Funk" is not actually that funky, it's just a fun garage rock jam. If the entire album were nothing but songs like that, I still wouldn't pay 100 bucks for it.  For a white guy from Quebec, Seward does have a nice feel for funky organ material and I'm sure he was great live, but in a world (and a continent) where Jimmy Smith and Johnny Hammond already exist, he's not breaking any barriers.

There are one or two burners on it where the band gets out their fuzz pedals and fucks shit up, but for every track like that, there's two generic blues shuffle instrumentals.  I feel bad for the band, these were guys too old and seasoned to be making actual current experimental music in 1969, but too young to be making easy listening records.  It reminds me a little bit of the first El Chicano record, in the sense that it's the product of young people who are used to entertaining the tastes of older folks (and El Chicano covers "Cantaloupe Island" and Donald Seward covers "Watermelon Man").

El Chicano basically left the lounge roots of their album behind and went on to play more rock based material and had a successful career.  Donald Seward put out another, slightly funkier, organ instrumental record, bought a bar, and by 1975 was out of the music game and selling insurance. C'est la vie.  If you appreciate 60's instrumental records and like fuzz pedals, I highly recommend this record if you can find it for under 20 bucks (and you can).  You can hear "Studio 'B' Funk" here: https://apresski.bandcamp.com/album/studio-b-funk

Donald Lautrec

A whole show of Quebecois pop circ. 1970... Claire Lepage, Marc Hamilton and more...  a great time capsule...

Diane Dufresne: "Un Jour Il Viendra Mon Amour"

Last week I was visiting my parents and went to the movies with my mom. We saw a new movie from Quebec called Sarah préfère la course, which had been screened at the Cannes Film Festival in 2013. I didn't think too much of it; it's one of those indie movies where not a lot happens and there are long...    long...   long...    pauses between every line of dialogue and you can't tell if this is because the director thinks this is how people really speak or if they are creating some terrible artifice.

Sarah is a middle distance runner at a high school in Quebec City who wants to continue running at MacGill College, but doesn't have much money. Her co-worker Antoine suggests they get married and move to Montreal together to take advantage of a government program that gives financial aid to young married students.  They do so, with Sarah looking at it purely as an arrangement of convenience and Antoine having other ideas. Somewhat confusingly, Sarah's old high school track rival is from Montreal and is also on the MacGill track team. There is some tension between them that turns very sexual, no more so than in a karaoke scene at a party.

Zoey, Sarah's rival, is called to sing. She replies she will, but there's only one song she'll sing. Her friends groan, either because they are sick of hearing that song or because it's the type of tune that will bring down the party. She then gets up and sings "Un Jour Il Viendra Mon Amour" by Diane Dufrense.

I will admit, despite my friend Simon featuring the song in a post on his blog, I did not recognize it.  I had to wait until the end of the movie and read the credits to try to figure out which song it was out of the 20 or so in the movie (not to pat myself on the back too hard, but when I saw the name Francois Cousineau listed, I knew that had to be the song). Anyways, Zoey sings this great romantic 60's ballad and it basically gives Sarah a panic attack, because I am guessing that is the moment she realizes she might be a lesbian. This scene was by far the best in the movie, and not just because the song is so good.

It's an interesting choice for the scene, because the song is not a huge classic. This is not Scarlet Johansson singing "Brass In Pocket" to Bill Murray.  If Zoey's peers at the party know this song, it is because it's her personal favorite. Although Diane Dufresne became a big star in Quebec in the early 70's, she was relatively unknown when she recorded this track in 1969. I believe it was her first released vocal; she did not have tracks released under her own name until a year or two later.

In fact, the song is from the soundtrack for a softcore porn movie called L'initiation. Here's a (dubbed) PG rated clip to give you an idea.  There was also a 45 released, as the picture at the top of the page shows.  Judging from current price and availability, the 45 sold more than the soundtrack LP.  I wish I could find some old radio charts to see exactly how big the song was back in the day. There is some great footage on Dailymotion of Dufresne performing the song in 1970, and it certainly gets some applause of recognition.

I am actually more curious how the song found its way into this movie. Perhaps there was a hip musical supervisor working, perhaps it was the director's mother's favorite song, or perhaps they saw it on Simon's blog? Who knows?  In any case, it's exciting to see great old songs being featured so prominently in new movies. At least one of the Youtube comments on the video of "Un Jour Il Viendra Mon Amour" mentions they were listening to the song because of Sarah préfère la course. You know what? Me too.

The song itself is one of those great orchestrated mid-tempo 60's ballads that just sounds better in French. People like Sandie Shaw, Dusty Springfield, or even the Walker Brothers have material that has that Continental vibe, but it somehow is missing something. Want proof? Check out the English version, "Here and Now":

Somehow it's not nearly as cool, sultry, or sophisticated in English... 

Drum Breaks: Quebec Style pt 3- Les Mersey's

In the the 1999 book, Ego Trip's Book Of  Rap Lists, there is a list of "A Few Of Biz Markie's Favorite Things," meaning things he owns. In between the mundane (his collection of Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots) and the mythical (his 12" copy of "Take Me To Mardi Gras" by Bob James that has no bells on the drum intro), he lists "my collection of every version of 'Get Out My Life, Woman.'"

"Get Out Of My Life, Woman" was written by Allen Toussaint and originally recorded by Lee Dorsey in 1966. It starts out with a monster drum break. The drum break seems so important to the feel of the song, you can't really cover the song effectively without it. So, someone buying records for breakbeats would probably buy every version of "Get Out Of My Life, Woman" they could get their hands on, from Iron Butterfly to Bill Cosby.





However, I am going to bet that Biz didn't have Les Mersey's version back in 1999. I have never heard anyone else talk about it, and since there is no indication by its French title as to what song it is, it would most likely evade a label reading beat digger back in the day.

The career arc of Les Mersey's is very representative of that of Quebecois beat groups as a whole. They formed in 1964, having previously played together in a band called The Blue Men (who I am guessing were an instrumental combo based on The Shadows or the Ventures, though this is purely conjecture on my part). They added a vocalist in 1964 and started playing R&B and British Invasion covers (the name "Les Mersey's" being derived from the Mersey River in Liverpool, and term "Mersey beat," usually applied to the Beatles, Gerry and the Pacemakers, and other Liverpudlian bands). They ended their career around 1970, with their last LP coming out in 1969. It consists mostly of a mix of bubblegum pop covers and originals. However, the last track on the album, "Freakout," is aptly named and you can hear the drummer get his:


I don't own this record, having never come across it cheaply. It sort of pains me to blow up my own spot and post about it before it lies in my hot little hands, but the game is sometimes meant to be told, not sold.

,

Since this post is about giving the drummer some, might as well shine a light on the drummer giving it to us. In this case, it's Richard Tate, who went on to have a long career, playing and recording with Les Sinners, Boule Noire, Michel Pagliaro, Nanette Workman, Johnny Hallyday, and many more.  He also recorded a few records as band leader. The first Tate a tete has more of a rock feel, though there are a wide variety of tracks on the album. I've put two of my favorite tracks from this record "Ce N'est Jamais Mon Tour" and "J'Viens De M'Reveiller" at the bottom of the page.

The 2nd, Richard Tate, is more of a funk record, and was recorded using Muscle Shoals sidemen like Roger Hawkins and David Hood. In fact, Tate doesn't even play drums on it, focusing instead on singing, writing, and arranging. It still has some moments.




Comment Peux-Tu Me Quitter- Les Mersey's (Get Out Of My Life, Woman)

Ce N'est Jamais Mon Tour- Richard Tate

  J'Viens De M'Reveiller- Richard Tate

Sheila: L'Agent Secret (pt 2)

I realize I have not updated in a long time. I haven't had a chance to go to Montreal in a while, so I don't have that many new French records to write about. But, rather than use that as an excuse, I'll try to take advantage of the huge amount of French and Quebecois videos that are on Youtube that weren't when I started this blog!

The song above, "L'Agent Secret" is by Sheila and was one of the first songs I posted about way back in 2007. It is still really awesome. However, the video clip is about 100 times better.

First of all, Sheila looks like a stone fox in that black jumpsuit. The fact that she is also sporting those long pigtails gives both the S&M contingent and schoolgirl fetishists something to enjoy.

As for the video itself, there is literally nothing "modsier" in the world than a girl frugging while doing karate kicks with James Bond cut-outs in the background. And all while lip-synching.

At about two minutes in, there is an extended choreographed fight sequence that even involves someone getting hit over the head with a chair. Jackie Chan would be proud. This is all done to the beat of a fuzz guitar solo/freakout section that is NOT in the version I have on 7" EP. Naturally, this set off a spree of frantic googling to find out if this longer alternative version was on an LP. Turns out it wasn't, but it is available as a CD bonus track. In fact, there are four different versions of "L'Agent Secret" on the bonus CD, including two labeled as TV versions. I curious as to what the other TV version is, as the one in this video sounds the same to me (it is cool to see the fight sequence is the same as well!).

Of course, none of Sheila's versions can hold a candle to the immortal Rene, a man who seems to have a Youtube channel dedicated to him singing along and dancing to Sheila's records in his lavishly modsy apartment.

Drum Breaks: Quebec Style pt 2- Les Lutins

The only thing worse than buying a bad album solely for its drum break is buying a good album solely for its drum break. It's like buying a Mercedes just so you can wear the hood ornament around your neck. And while Les Lutins' second LP, "En Orbite", is not nearly as good as their first, it's still a great album.

It's not as much a garage record as their first. It is both poppier and more psych influenced. The only duff track on the record is the goofy pop tune "Monsieur Le Robot," (yes it has a silly robot voice in it) which, frustratingly enough, was the main single off the record and turns up everywhere. The track with the break, "La Junglomanie" is sort of a mock R&B record, in almost the same way that "The Gift" by the Velvet Underground is a mock Booker T and the MG's record, although this one has no story recited on top of it, just jungle noises. Gotta dig the fuzz bass, too.

I believe this record was known to beat diggers from back in the day just for it's drum break. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it was the international psych mafia who coveted it? It did, after all, make an appearance on the Trap Door psych mix CD.

My favorite tune on the record is probably "Girl", a nice raunchy psych rave-up, with a few odd starts and stops.

La Junglomanie

Girl